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xserenemeadowsx · 2 years ago

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Unconditional Love (Chapter 6)

By xSereneMeadowsx

Link for Chapter 5: https://www.tumblr.com/xserenemeadowsx/719876599243227136/unconditional-love-chapter-5?source=share

A/N: Thank you everyone for the likes and follows! I really appreciate it! :) Life has been busy and my health has been a major priority as of late. I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

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Chapter 6

“We should get moving,” Peach said as she stood up and stretched. “We can start gathering some apples, bananas, and melons.”

The plumbers and mushroom man all got up and stretched as well.

“Shall we split up?” Mario asked.

“I think that would be good,” Peach responded. “I can go with Mario and Luigi can search with Toad. Sound good?”

“Sounds good to me,” Toad said nudging Mario and winking at him.

Mario looked at Toad with a raised brow.

“This means you get to have some alone time with the princess,” Toad whispered.

Mario shook his head. He will admit that he did find Peach to be beautiful and fun, but it’s not like she was romantically interested in him. He was sure she just saw him as a good friend. He decided he could live with that. Hard as it may be.

“Well, let’s get going,” Luigi said. “Times a wasting.”

“Mario and I will head north. You two take the south,” Peach pointed out to show directions.

“On it!” Toad said.

The four split up into to their assigned teams and began to search for the fruits previously mentioned.

“I really hope Y/N is doing okay,” Peach said to Mario as they trekked through rainforest like terrain. “I feel awful letting her get captured.”

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Mario said trying to comfort the princess. “We’ll get to her. I am worried too, but we can’t give up.”

“Right. I shouldn’t worry so much. Usually, it’s me who’s super hopeful with everything.”

“Well, even hopeful people can get down at times. That’s why it’s good to have others around you to help bring in some positivity,” Mario attempted in making the princess feel better.

She smiled, “You’re right. We’ll get her back. We got this.”

“That’s the spirit!”

The princess and plumber continued to chat about various topics until reaching a tree that had more apples than one could count for.

“Wow! Impressive!” Mario took in the tree with awe. Never had he seen so many apples. It was astounding to see such a tree produce so much fruit.

“Yep, pretty incredible.” Peach smiled, amused at Mario’s reaction. “Shall we start picking?”

“Yeah. Let’s get to it!” Mario said.

The two then began picking out some apples.

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Y/N sighed as she finished singing Almost Lover. She wiped her eyes of the tears that had cascaded down her face. Should she say something to Bowser about this whole songwriting being pointless? Could she endure what his reaction would be if she chose to say anything? She didn’t want to be in the same position as before. The grip he had on her when she was grabbed was strong. The claws from him could easily pierce her skin and she didn’t want to get such injuries.

She shook her head. She needed to keep herself safe until rescue arrived. She wanted to still believe that Mario, Peach, and the others would be coming to her aid. She wished they were already here, but she had to give them time. It can’t be easy storming a castle of this magnitude with many guards and troops at the ready. Plus, Bowser was very terrifying when he wanted to be. She was sure they were planning out some sort of strategy to get to her.

She annoyed herself with these repeating thoughts about Bowser. She felt like a broken record stuck on the same verse of a song. Then again though, what else was she supposed to ponder over? She liked the time spent with Bowser in the library and could see his soft side. She genuinely wanted him to be happy, but how was she supposed to express that when he could easily blow a fuse?

Perhaps, maybe it was best to let everything play out. She knew it would hurt him, but she just didn’t know what else to do. Maybe, if she waited for a certain moment to arrive, she could tell him. Part of her still wanted to tell him that he should move on. She wasn’t sure either on when the right moment would be. Maybe her gut feeling could help her out with that. Having learned her lesson that she should always listen to her gut feeling before, she could use that to her advantage.

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Bowser was resting his eyes and concentrating on images of his Peaches. Her beautiful, long blond hair, dazzling blue eyes, and her pink dress that suit her perfectly. He smiled when seeing the image of the princess. He then pictured himself and her sitting outside, he plays his song on the piano, and she sits on top of the piano as he sings to her. She was smiling at him with tenderness as she took in his words. Bowser gazed up at her with glee in his red eyes.

The words and notes flowed with elegance as the scenery around them brought about serenity. The waterfall cascading and the gentle breeze brushing the blades of green grass helped to make the scenery that much more enchanting. The princess and king were locking eyes with one another and slowly leaning in. The turtle grew nervous, but excited as their faces inched closer to each other.

Suddenly, the image of Peach disappeared and changed into a different silhouette. The silhouette revealed itself to have (hair length and hair color) and (eye color) gazing at him with adoration. She sat upon the piano and smiled at Bowser. Y/N had once again made herself appear at the most inconvenient of times. Bowser opened his eyes and shook his head. He sighed irritably as the image of his princess was again replaced by his songwriter.

Maybe it was time for him to be rid of her? No. He couldn’t do that yet. He still needed her to play the hostage. Perhaps it was high time to treat her as a hostage once again by keeping her in a cage. Only this time, put her in a cage that is in his dungeon. Yes. That should do perfectly. He smirked to himself as he got up from his bed.

“Kamek!” He called out.

The wizard instantly appeared, “Yes Sire?”

“Bring the songwriter to the throne room. I have some details to discuss with her.”

“Yes, my King.” The wizard bowed and disappeared.

Bowser walked out of his room and made his way toward his throne room. He reached the room in no time. He sat down and waited for the wizard to return with the human.

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Knocking on the door startled Y/N out of her thoughts, “Uh yes, come in.”

The wizard opened the door, “His majesty is requesting your presence in the throne room.”

“Oh, okay.” Y/N got up from her bed and followed Kamek out of her room.

Both walked in silence to the throne room. There sitting in his chair was Bowser. Kamek brought Y/N up to him and then stood back.

“Songwriter, good to see you,” Bowser said as stood up.

“Um…good to see you too…” Y/N said feeling slightly awkward.

“Kamek, close the doors,” Bowser ordered his wizard.

“Right away Sire,” Kamek responded and did as his king told him.

“So, Y/N, I have something important to tell you. Before that, I was curious. Why could I hear you sounding like you were on the verge of tears earlier?” Bowser decided he would go ahead and ask her about that anyway.

Y/N’s eyes widened. She wasn’t expecting him to ask her that so suddenly. She didn’t even think he heard her, and he had. Her gut feeling came on, telling her she needs to tell him now. She was scared, but what was she supposed to do otherwise? She supposed, if he listened, she could intertwine it with her own personal experience in the matters of the heart.

“I uh…” Y/N took in a deep breath in and out, ‘Don’t be nervous.’ She calmed herself and began again, “I was thinking about a time I went through with heartbreak…”

Bowser was now intrigued, “What happened with that?”

“I was…played a fool. The guy I was with, I really liked him, and he didn’t like me in return. He deceived me. He acted like he really cared about me when in the end he didn’t. It was a joke to him.” Y/N’s eyes began to water a little bit.

Bowser took notice of this and decided to not interject for now.

“He was in love with someone else the whole time. He just used me on the side for entertainment. He wanted a good laugh for himself and with his friends. I fell for his act. I was blinded by my own infatuation of him that I couldn’t see what he was really doing.” Y/N sputtered, and the tears came crashing down.

Bowser was feeling heavy now for Y/N. How horrible to be used in that way and yet, here he was using her. Granted, not for the same thing, but still using her…he had to follow through though. He had to for the sake of his sanity. He wanted Peaches to be at his side forever. He didn’t want Y/N to interfere.

Y/N calmed her crying down, “Bowser I…” This was it. She had to say something to him now. “What happened to me, I don’t want to happen to you. I know how you feel about the princess, but it’s not worth it to have your heart broken. You know how the princess feels about you-“

“The princess is not like that guy from your past! She will fall in love with me, and my heart will not be broken!” Bowser roared. He was determined to have his Peaches by his side.

Y/N, stunned from the yelling for a few seconds, recovered, “It’s worthwhile to go after someone who genuinely feels the same as you. I don’t want to see you hurt. The princess will never feel the way you do for her.”

Bowser’s eyes glowed in rage with a fire of fury, “Just because you had that heartbreak doesn’t mean I will have that heartbreak. My ending will not be like yours. Mine will be happy and joyful, not sad, and miserable.”

Y/N was trembling. She had told him what she wanted to and yet, it didn’t make a difference. Of course, one must choose what to do for themselves. One can say as much as they want to, but at the end of day, the person in question must decide on what they will do. She had just hoped that maybe he would consider her words, but this was a moment meant for daydreams only.

Bowser once again felt heavy for speaking to Y/N in such a way, but he had to follow through on his plans, “I have decided to put you in the dungeons. You will play your part as I had originally intended for you. The part of the hostage. Kamek will take you to your new lodgings now.”

Y/N gasped as she looked up at him with sadness. Why? Why did he have to harden his heart? She thought maybe he was trying to be better, maybe he would see what she was getting at, but it all seemed to be a lie. She put her head down and Kamek, using his magic, bound her wrists together in chains behind her back.

“Get her out of my sight,” Bowser spoke coldly.

“Yes Sire,” Kamek responded. He then transported himself and Y/N out of the throne room.

Bowser walked back to his chair and sat down. Now that he had put Y/N in the dungeons and would begin to treat her as a hostage, he felt he could really focus on what was important. Making Princess Peach his and making her see that he could give her everything and more. He closed his eyes and imagined his princess once again. He wanted to present the song to her very soon. He would have to plan to travel to the Mushroom Kingdom shortly.

Wait a second…with Y/N playing hostage, he could just let the princess come to him. Now that he thought about it, he was sure that Peaches along with those pesky plumbers were on their way here. Yes. Let his love come to him and he had the perfect bait. Y/N. He could then have the princess come with him to the music room where he would sing his heart to her. After that, Peaches will fall in love with him, and he would get another shot at his fairytale wedding.

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“How about these bananas? They look good,” Toad asked holding them up to Luigi.

“Yeah, I think those would be alright,” Luigi said.

“You know that Mario likes the princess, right?” Toad asked as he put a few bananas into his backpack.

“I do. I’ve told him before he should just tell her. I think she may feel the same way. Why pair us off together and her and my brother together otherwise?”

“Exactly! We should try to set them up on a date after we get Y/N back!”

Luigi chuckled, “I agree with you. I think my brother needs it.”

“I think so too. How about you. Anyone in your life?” Toad asked.

“Uh, not really…I mean, I haven’t exactly dated a whole lot myself. I would like to find a nice woman and settle down one day though. Just haven’t met the right girl yet.” Luigi felt a bit embarrassed.

“Hmm…I wonder…” Toad had an idea for Luigi but didn’t want to say it yet.

“Huh? Wonder what?” The plumber asked.

“Ah nothing to worry about now. C’mon, let’s head on back to Mario and the princess. I think we have a good amount of food,” Toad said.

Luigi gave the mushroom man a suspicious look but decided to play along, “Alright. Yeah, we have enough food.”

The two made their way back to the area they had stayed at earlier and waited for the other plumber and princess to return. Luigi sat down against the tree trunk and Toad joined him.

“So, what about you Toad? Dating?” Luigi decided to pop the question back at the mushroom man.

“Na. No interest right now. Plus, it is hard to find a female among so many males in the Mushroom Kingdom,” Toad answered.

“Ah, yeah, that is tough,” Luigi agreed. He did see many more males than females when having been through the Mushroom Kingdom.

The two decided to rest their eyes while waiting for Mario and Peach to return.

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“You think that the kongs will really be okay with riding on Yoshies?” Mario asked.

“I would like to think so. If not, I know the Yoshies could still help us out and the kongs can bring whatever is easier for them,” Peach replied.

“Yeah, that’s true. Hey, want to bring this melon along?” Mario held up a big melon.

“That one looks good. Let’s take it,” Peach said as she inspected it. “I think we have enough food for now and I’m sure Luigi and Toad found a good amount.”

“I think so too,” Mario agreed.

The two made their way back to the tree they had taken shelter at earlier to find Luigi and Toad sleeping.

“As much as I don’t want to disturb them, we need to get a move on,” Peach said.

“They’ll understand,” Mario replied.

The princess and plumber in red made their way over to the plumber in green and mushroom man.

Mario put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “Hey Lu, wake up. We need to get going.”

Luigi groggily opened his eyes and looked up at his brother, “Okay.” He slowly got up and stretched his limbs.

“Toad, time to get up,” Peach said as she lightly shook the mushroom man by his shoulder.

“H-Huh?” Toad slowly opened his eyes and looked up at the princess. He got up and stretched.

After Luigi and Toad had finished stretching, the four of them talked about how they were going to lure the Yoshies to them. They wanted to each catch a Yoshi and then make their way to the Jungle Kingdom before it got too dark out. They all decided to stick together to catch the Yoshies.

They each set up a trail of the various fruits and hid in some nearby bushes waiting for some Yoshies to come up to the delicious looking fruit. The waiting wasn’t too long. Soon, 6 Yoshies came up to the trail and began eating some of the fruit. The Yoshies were pink, yellow, red, blue, purple, and green. The four friends slowly walked out from behind the bushes and carefully made their way over to the occupied Yoshies.

Peach carefully made her way over to the pink one, gently petting it and picking up an apple to feed it to the Yoshi. The Yoshi was startled but calmed down and ate the fruit the princess was offering.

“That’s it. We won’t hurt you. We need your help,” Peach spoke in a calm voice. “Would you please help us?”

The pink Yoshi nodded in agreement and lowered itself so that the princess could climb onto its back. The princess sat down on the red like saddle the Yoshi had and held onto the back of it. She waited for the plumbers and mushroom man to get a Yoshi.

Mario, spotting the red one, quietly crept up behind it picking up a banana along the way. He tried doing what he had seen Peach do by gently petting it and offering the banana to the Yoshi.

“Hey there Yoshi. We really need your help,” Mario said in a relaxed voice. “Would you please aid my friends and I?”

The red Yoshi looked at Mario in question and nodded. It ate the banana from Mario’s hand and lowered itself down. Mario got up onto the red Yoshi.

“This is sort of like riding a horse,” Mario said as he was steadying himself.

“Riding a horse?” Peach asked.

“Oh. Guess you haven’t seen horses. They’re tall and they have saddles you sit on to ride them. They are taller than the Yoshies. I could show you a picture of a horse later,” Mario replied.

“So, it sounds like you have done horseback riding before?”

“Eh, not really. Lu and I knew someone who did horseback riding before, and we had watched him perform a few stunts in a big competition with his horse. Pretty tricky stuff.”

“Sounds like it, but it does sound interesting.”

“Well, come back to our world and maybe we can take you to one of those shows.”

“Including riding lessons?”

Mario rubbed his hand on the back of his head, “Uh sure…the lessons aren’t cheap though. They are expensive to get. Maybe we could work something out with that friend of ours…”

Peach smiled, “That would be great!”

“I’ll see what we can do later then,” Mario said smiling back at the princess.

Luigi and Toad eventually got onto their Yoshies. Luigi chose the green one while Toad chose the yellow one. The blue and purple Yoshies had left after getting more of their fill from the fruit left on the trail.

“Looks like we’re ready to go,” Peach said.

“I think so,” Luigi responded.

“Alright. To the Jungle Kingdom!” Toad said excitedly.

The princess began leading the way and the other three followed her. The sun was nearing dusk, but Peach could tell that they were still making good time and would arrive at the Jungle Kingdom soon.

‘We’ll get you away from Bowser soon Y/N. Just hang on,’ Peach thought as she and the others continued riding the Yoshies.

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“In you go,” Kamek said as he lightly pushed Y/N into the cell. The two had entered a dungeon covered with stones.

Y/N stumbled a bit but remained on her feet.

The wizard closed the large steel bar door and locked it.

Y/N watched the wizard walk away and crumpled to the stone floor beneath her. The place was cold and dreary. She was heartbroken. Bowser was using her just as she should’ve expected. Of course, she knew he wanted her to help him out, but still. When she had been with him in the library, it was so nice to see the kind side of him. She was hoping that maybe slowly the king of the koopas was changing.

He had once again done a 180 on her. He acted aggressive and uncaring toward her. She was nothing more than a tool for him to use against the princess. Y/N could tell that he was going to force the princess to love him. She shook her head. Of course, he wasn’t going to listen to her. He would learn his lesson the hard way then. She hated being cuffed up. The cuffs were beginning to irritate her skin. She knew she was slowly getting angry red marks on her wrists.

Y/N sighed and scooted herself over to sit against the stone wall behind her. She leaned her head up, staring at the stone ceiling. She was tired. So tired of being thrown around from one place to another. Being told to stay in a cage like a bird, next being treated better, then going into a dungeon. Why couldn’t she be locked up in the room she was given?

Oh. Right. Because Bowser wanted to treat her as a hostage. No duh Y/N. She closed her eyes and decided to try and think about the happier times in her life. Her life hadn’t been all bad. There were some good moments. It was wonderful getting the opportunity to do a job she enjoyed and live in a new place. While scary, it was exciting. She got to meet Mario and Luigi who were so nice and kind to her.

Meeting Peach and Toad was fun as well. She appreciated how much they took their time with showing her around the Mushroom Kingdom and the castle. Getting to sing one of her favorite songs for her friends was nice too. The jewelry and dresses that the princess had in her castle were gorgeous. Y/N smiled over these memories and next thought about her family.

How grateful she felt to have a loving mother, father, and sister. They all had done so much for her, and she appreciated that. She hoped that she would be able to see everyone again. She was grateful too for the people from her job. Her coworkers were wonderful and fun to work with. Though she hadn’t been with them long, they all showed her so much kindness and care. It’s always fun to go to work when you can work with people who are a joy to be around.

Y/N opened her eyes and stared at the bars in front of her. She didn’t like being caged up again. She decided that she would no longer try to do anything for Bowser in terms of helping him with his heart. If he wants his heart broken, so be it. She had already tried to say everything she could to him, and he didn’t want to take it. She would instead hope that he would truly learn his lesson through this heartbreak and decide to do better for himself later.

She wanted to try and go back to thinking about happier times in her life. She once again closed her eyes and let some of her fun childhood memories play in her mind.

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Bowser had left his throne room to practice more of his song for Peaches. He played each note with care and sang with as much love as he could. Peaches is the only person who can make him happy. He smiled as he looked at the picture of the princess in pink. He couldn’t wait to look at her in person, not having to stare at a photograph anymore. His heart swelled with excitement at that thought.

The scenery in the music room had reflected the scene he wanted to use for the princess. The waterfall, grassy field and the moon shining brightly. It was a perfect setting. As cliché as it was, the king did not care. He wanted his confession to be like that of a fairytale too besides having his wedding be like that. He would work hard on making all of this come true. After he played his song and after Peaches said she felt the same, he would ask her again to marry him.

The princess would be delighted and say yes, giving him a big smooch. She would wear a different dress from the one he had her wear last time. It would be elegant and fit her in all the right places. It would be white, but it would be more decorative too. Not overly so, but just enough to show off intricate details while still being elegant.

She would walk up the aisle toward him and he would be dazzled at her appearance. Her hair would be done up and decorated with flowers. Her veil would be white covering her face and go to about mid back. She would have a train with her dress extending out a few inches. She would wear a necklace of matching flowers and earrings. Her shoes would be made of glass and high heeled with a flower on top of them. She would literally take his breath away. The perfect image of a beautiful bride.

Bowser got giddy thinking over all of that. As he smiled, someone else made an appearance in his mind. Someone he wished would disappear completely from his thoughts. Y/N. His heart felt annoyed and yet heavy. He will not deny that he enjoyed the time they had together in his library, but she is not the love of his life. Why was he feeling almost melancholy towards her? Because of what he said? Because of what he did to her? He knew he shouldn’t be questioning himself this way. He knew the answers.

He knew he had to do them. If he didn’t, she would continue to plague his mind. Yet, even as he did everything, she still invaded him. How he hated that she showed up whenever he would try to picture his precious Peaches! Y/N was getting the way of everything! Even his mentality! He can’t get rid of her yet. She still needed to be the hostage.

Bowser growled irritably. Why had he gone so soft on her in the library? Why had he done the playful the banter? Why did he find her cute? Why did he find her voice beautiful? Why is he asking himself all these questions?! He roared and slammed the lid of the piano case. He knew all these answers. He didn’t want to admit it, but…he couldn’t deny it to himself. He did have a fondness for Y/N. He was hurting because he hurt her.

His stubbornness wouldn’t allow him to express that fondness to Y/N any longer. He wanted to focus on the princess just as he originally planned. He had to. He didn’t want to do things any other way. Yet…this lingering feeling of…what was it? Regret? It filled him up. He knew he shouldn’t have treated Y/N the way he did…but it’s too late now. She probably despises him at this point. He should be happy with that because he could then get his priorities straight. However, deep down inside…he couldn’t focus.

What was he to do with his mentality, his thoughts on Y/N? Did he want Y/N to…have fondness of him too?

Link for Chapter 7: https://www.tumblr.com/xserenemeadowsx/724798091751030784/unconditional-love-chapter-7?source=share

#bowser #bowser x reader #the super mario bros movie 2023 #mario #luigi #princess peach #toad #romance #adventure #fanfic

25 notes · View notes

bubblyhoney · 3 years ago

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sarah i have thought of another fic request or like a cute idea i guess! i didn’t have anyone in mind when i thought of it so you can write it for whoever you want honestly :)

okay so the reader is a streamer but streams games like animal crossing, standew valley, etc. then (insert who you’re writing for) says they don’t like that game, but later ends up buying it and the reader is like “i thought you said you didn’t like this game” and they’re like “well i like you” and they confuses their feelings and they end up playing the game together and reader gives them a tour of their island or farm

i feel like this request isn’t good, but the scenario seemed cute and i wanted to share it. sorry if this is confusing or just too specific cuz i know it can be hard to write requests like that! but yeah i hope it gives you inspiration and you like the request <3

new horizons

warnings: language, a Marvel reference (hint: natasha said it about tony), stupid idiots who don’t realize they like each other, use of pet names, Uno rage, Hasan Piker's presence

words: 1473

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

A/N: i’ve been trying to catch up a little on my requests (i’ve only got a couple so i’m not super overwhelmed) but school and outside life has been taking up most of my time so this one took me a while to make! tbh— ive never played animal crossing so i did google some of the game mechanics and i apologize if anything is inaccurate about the game…. but i liked relaxing and writing this cute one so thank you for requesting hails :3

requests/inbox status: open

“This game is trash.”

Your head quirks, fingers stopped on the screen. You’re in the process of giving your character a cute new nickname; it’s kind of hard to decide between “awkward dude” and “elderly skater”.

“Excuse me?” Your chat comes alive with emotes and ‘KEKW’s, obviously entertained by you and your almost-more-than-friends-friend.

There’s a story for that later.

Sapnap’s rough laugh comes through your headset and he audibly swallows, the sound of a water bottle dropping onto his desk echoing.

“I’m just saying—it’s boring. It’s like Minecraft but you don’t like… do anything.” The grainy image of his bearded face shifts and you see him pull out his phone.

“It’s— you can’t even compare it to Minecraft! It’s a completely different game system—you actually interact with other people live in the game.” You huff out a dramatic sigh, slumping in your chair with a pout. “Just because you go into this lucid state where all you know is ‘touch block, hit George’ doesn’t mean this game isn’t fun.” (He scoffs at your awful impression of his voice. Your viewers love it.)

“Jeez,” he mumbles, fumbling with the cap of his water bottle. “Touched a nerve there, bud.”

You roll your eyes, getting back to the village in the game.

“Don't ‘bud’ me.”

The call falls comfortably quiet, the sounds of him tapping obsessively on his phone and you clicking away filling the silence. A gentle bedroom-pop YouTube playlist remains in the background, prompting you to hum along and glance at the chat to see a flood of “check twitter” and “Y/N TWITTER!!”.

“What happened on Twitter?” You mumble, confused, and pull the website up on another monitor. Sapnap just makes a curious noise, swinging back and forth in a circle. “Oh my God,” you say to yourself, fingertips brushing your parted lips.

“What?”

“Hasan Piker just followed me and retweeted one of my not even remotely political old tweets. Like from a year ago.”

“That’s— wow. Congrats?” Sapnap’s voice cracks, and his ears flush pink the tiniest bit when you glance at his face on Discord.

“I’m gonna go on record and say that he could get it.” You shake your head in disbelief.

Sapnap falls uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal, so you look past the frenzied chat and to his screen— wait. He muted and turned his camera off.

“Um,” you start, furiously typing question marks in your private chat. “Where’d you go?” You mute and turn screen share off for your stream, concerned that he might’ve fallen off his chair and broken his neck and needs you to call the ambulance.

The characteristic ding of a twitter notification sounds through your bedroom, and you look at your phone quickly.

“That’s where I went.”

Sapnap Tweeted: “all Y/U stans can choke on my dick”.

“Jesus, Sapnap,” you say, and rapidly refresh to read the replies. This tweet was deleted. “That’s so— that barely makes sense, bro. Why— literally what?”

His snicker floods your ears and you relax in your chair. Crisis: averted. “Don’t fucking— what’s wrong with you?”

“I thought it would be funny,” he offers, shrugging, and fiddles with the straw in his water bottle, smile fading. “And also Hasan pisses me off.”

“Why, ‘cause he wants a piece of this? Jealous?” You think back to your viewers, knowing they’re probably spamming question marks and coming to ludacris conclusions about both of your absences. No offense to them. You remember your stan days very vividly.

“I mean, kinda.” He rubs once at his nose, glancing at the camera (and what feels like you) before taking a sip from his water bottle.

“Wow.” You watch one strand of his hair fall from beneath his hat and brush against his full eyebrows. “I’m uh—I’ll get back to my stream. You coming? Or is it time for a Sapnap-snack?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He snorts and leans his chin onto the balance of his arm.

“That means you like to take a little snack break mid-stream and come back approximately nine hours later and you didn’t even eat.”

“You know what— fuck you.” He flicks the camera as you laugh at the look on his face.

The teasing mood is easily kept as you switch games from Animal Crossing to Uno, all the while slamming Sapnap with +4’s and skipping the newly-arrived BadBoyHalo at any chance you can get. It unironically pisses him off and he has to take a Sapnap-snack break midway through (only a fifteen minute break this time, during which you and Bad take a “What Kind of Bread Are You?” quiz). The rest of the night is filled with devious cackles (you), loud and sudden bangs that sound suspiciously like someone hitting their desk in anger (Sap) and the stupid barking of Rat, AKA Lucy (Bad). She’s cute but a menace to the sound quality of Bad’s microphone. You sign off stream around 2 a.m. with various forms of thanks and kisses blown to the camera. It’s been a refreshing night, actually; you’ve been busy organizing a partnership stream all week and all your friends have been busy filming or editing or what-not. Quackity had time for a little Roblox every couple of days, though. He’s got your back.

The next time you see Sapnap is after a two hour stream of him try-harding in Valorant and you finishing responding to an email from your partnership in the VC.

“Okay, I’m back.” You hear him shift in his chair and click a couple more times on his keyboard. You perk up in your chair, closing the email browser you’d been looking at.

“Do you want to play anything else? I’m down for anything.”

“Absolutely not Uno. You can go to hell for giving me 6 cards that one time,” he jabs. You scoff, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair.

“Okay, the +4 was on me but it’s Bad who gave you the last two. That’s not my fault, sweetie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, trailing off as the clicking of his keyboard stops. “Hey, um—Guess what?”

Your heart beats loud in your ears at the tone of his voice. He sounds nervous; that’s never good.

“I’m scared to guess,” you try, playing with a little Minecraft dog figurine you have on your desk with fidgety fingers. “What?”

“I bought Animal Crossing.”

Silence. You stare at his discord icon blankly, trying to reroute the wires of your brain.

“Tell me you love it.”

“Well… I haven’t actually played it— but you said you liked it, so.”

“So,” you repeat him, ears warming but continuing on. “Is that what you tell all your friends when you buy something they like? That it's because of them?”

He seems to choose his next words carefully, pausing a beat to consider your questions.

“Well, I don’t have a crush on all of my friends.”

“You—what?” You stutter, caught off guard and stumbling. What did he just say? “Don’t tell me you mean you have a crush on me.”

“I’m almost positive I just did.” His discord icon stares right back at you, taunting.

“You know, you’re very casual for someone who just admitted they like-like me.” Your cheeks flush pink and you have to press a hand to your chest to keep your breathing sounding stable.

“Yeah, I’m kind of cool like that,” he offers, a huff of a laugh punctuating his statement. The conversation moves into a lull that you can’t help but know is because of you. He must expect you to say something about it, right?

“You are very cool, Sapnap.” You tilt back in your chair, sucking in a breath to prepare yourself for your next words. “And—Isortakindofhaveacrushonyoutoo.”

He must understand you, for you can hear the grin in his voice when he asks “Really?”

“Y-yeah.” You feel like a preteen again, all shaky and giddy in front of the boy you just asked to a middle school dance.

“Um, alright. What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” you answer genuinely and swing in a happy little circle in your chair. “We could play Animal Crossing.”

“I’m down.”

You swear you’ve never heard more beautiful words.

He keeps his camera off for most of the time you two play, too focused on creating his island and asking you questions about how to fish to turn it on. He silently flips it on when you help him decorate his lawn, needing to show you in real-time the decorations he has bought and where you think he should put them. He looks cute. I mean, of course he does. He always does.

You tell him goodbye late in the night, eyes saying a little more than just “see you tomorrow”.

You like him. He likes you.

It’s even better when you two have matching gardens.

A/N: anybody and everybody (especially my precious hailey) let me know what you think!! :]

#sapnap #mcyt #sapnap x gn!reader #sapnap x reader #sapnap x you #sapnap fluff #sapnap drabble #sapnap oneshot #bubblyhoneyfics #honey answers #mcyt x reader #🥚except small

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goldenroutledge · 4 years ago

Note

“ Look at how he’s/she’s treating you — are you really okay with that? ” with Rafe 🥺

butterflies

pairing: bestfriend!rafe cameron x reader

wc: 0.9k

warning(s): mentions of cheating, swearing, but some good ole rafe fluff

rafe masterlist

“You deserve better.” You zoned out listening to your best friend over the phone, repeating himself for the millionth time. Rafe sounded like a broken record. Trying to remind you of your worth but nothing seemed to get through to you. He would never stop trying. “Hello?” He questioned after a long pause of silence on your end.

“Yeah. I’m here.” You spoke, barely loud enough.

Your boyfriend had been with someone else for a while now. Not only did you suspect it but the entire island of Kildare did as well, whispering the rumors around town that spread like wildfire. You just didn’t know how to confront him. Especially when he acted as if nothing was wrong, as if the rumors didn’t even exist. He chose to ignore it in hopes it would go away, smiling in your face and tiptoeing around the truth.

“Can I come over?” Rafe suggested, wary of the response he presumed he’d get.

“No. I don’t want company right now.”

“Y/n, please? I just wanna see my best friend.” He pleaded through the phone, a door audibly shutting on the other end to punctuate his statement.

“Rafe, what are you doing? Are you in your truck? I told you not to come over.” You grumbled, hearing his truck start up in the background. “I look like a mess right now.”

“You look perfect. As always.” He reassured, earning a small smile out of you that he couldn’t see. “I’ll be there in 15, okay?”

You sighed, knowing there was no way to talk him out of it now. “Okay. Drive safe.”

Sure enough, 15 minutes later, Rafe was entering your home with his loud footsteps and 2 cups in his hands. “What’s that?” You asked as he traveled up the staircase of your home, flashing you a bright grin.

“Snow cones. Watermelon still your favorite flavor?”

“Wow, I’m surprised you remembered.” You challenged.

“Of course I remembered. You cried when we were 9 at the carnival when they ran out.” He teased.

Your cheeks heated up at the memory, but nevertheless it was still a bit humorous. You chuckled. “Yeah. I was always the first one in the lines from then on. Couldn’t risk it.”

Rafe followed you to your bedroom window, opening it and helping you out to sit in your spot on the roof. “You always wanted to race and see who’s tongue could get stained the fastest.”

“And it was always me.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Maybe. But don’t forget you always had the first brain freeze. I told you to slow down.”

“You’re no better than me. You asked the lady if the flavor Tigers Blood came from real tigers.”

He laughed, nudging your shoulder with his. “Chill out, okay? I was inquisitive.”

“Yeah, whatever.” You rolled your eyes playfully, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Thanks, Rafe.”

“For what?” He asked, mouth full of shaved ice as he glanced at you.

“For the snow cone. And making me forget that my life is in shambles. You always help me take my mind off things.”

“Of course. That’s what I’m here for.” He reminded. “But while we’re on the topic..”

You let out a heavy sigh, already knowing the conversation ahead of you. “Yes?”

“Why won’t you just break it off with him?”

“I don’t know how to bring it up.” You responded. “In fact, I don’t even know if the rumors are true. It’s not like I’ve seen it for myself.”

“Look at how he’s treating you — are you really okay with that?” His eyes now bore into yours, preparing to detect a lie. “Answer me honestly, Y/n/n.”

“I don’t know, Rafe. I really don’t.” You answered reluctantly. “It’s hard to tell when you set the standards so goddamn high.” You mumbled under your breath. But you both were sitting so close together, there was no way he couldn’t hear you.

“What?”

You sat up straighter, stiffening at the new change of topic. “Nothing. Nevermind.”

“No, Y/n. I heard you. But what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Forget I said anything, okay? I-I didn’t even mean it like that.”

“You didn’t?” Rafe’s tone was hinted with heartache, the best he could do to mask it. You tried to respond, but no words came out. You weren’t sure what to say. “Did you or not, Y/n? I need to know what the fuck you meant.”

“Fine. I meant it, Rafe.” You surrendered. “I mean, you treat me so well and I have so much fun being around you. Like I’m living in the clouds or some shit.” He was frozen, but never taking his eyes off you as you gazed out onto the property surrounding your house. “But you’re not my boyfriend. So it doesn’t even matter.”

“It matters to me, you know.” He admitted hopefully.

“Well. I shouldn’t have said it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I have a boyfriend? That’s not fair to him.”

“Forget that loser, Y/n. He’s an asshole who doesn’t deserve you. If you wanted to be with him right now you would be, right?” He stammered, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to make sense of it all himself.

“Yeah. probably.” You nodded. “But instead, I’m here. Having snow cones on the roof with you. Where I should be.”

His lips curled into a smile at the reassurance, looking down sheepishly to avoid your stare. “I’m glad you agree.” You leaned over to kiss his blushing cheek, which was only reddening under your touch. “Are you gonna break up with him?”

“Yeah. I am.” You affirmed, stomach fluttering as you came to a decision. Rafe was more responsible for the butterflies in your stomach than you were, though. “Give me some time. I wanna tell him in person.”

“Okay.” He beamed, brushing your soft cheek with his thumb. Unbeknownst to you, those same butterflies were going rampant and wild inside of his body too. “I’ll wait.”

a/n: i’m happy with the way this turned out :)

taglist: @ilovejjmaybank @missevi @nxsmss @cameronsrafe @msgorillagripcoochie @bibliophilewednesday @tovvaa @freddymaybank @annab-nana @babeyglo @sunsetholland @moniamaybank @outerbankspreferences @laneybobeczko-g @jjpouggues @j-j-may-bank

rafe taglist: @vintageobx @givetaylorherscarfbackjake @drewstarkeysbitchh

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #obx rafe #outer banks rafe #drew starkey #my valentine’s sleepover

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castiel-kline · 4 years ago

Text

happy birthday @angelfishofthelord !!!

here’s Cas being Old and talking about dinosaurs to hopefully make you smile <3

---

“Hey, there you are!”

Castiel is tucked in a corner of the library when Dean’s voice startles him out of the book he’s reading. He stands up, a million things that could have gone wrong racing through his imagination at top speed.

“Dean. Is everything alright?”

He waves a hand in dismissal. “Yeah, no worries. Me, Sam and Jack are gonna watch Jurassic Park. You wanna join us?”

Castiel wrinkles his nose. He’s seen stills from that movie, and those plus the references Dean has made to it over the years make it sound like an inaccuracy-riddled insult to the beautiful creatures he once watched over.

But Cas has never been one to refuse time with his family, so he follows Dean through the bunker’s halls and takes a seat next to Jack on the sofa.

Sam passes him a bowl of popcorn.

“You made it!” he says, looking uncharacteristically relaxed. It’s… nice.

“Of course,” Castiel says, passing the popcorn to Jack’s eager hands and returning the boy’s smile. He’ll enjoy it more than Cas will. He cares much more about the people than the snacks or the film, anyway.

He takes in Sam’s easy smile again, and the calm in Dean’s posture where he stands preparing the DVD. Even Jack looks toward the blank television screen in excited anticipation, despite having learned by now not to trust Dean’s taste in cinema. Jack much preferred getting to explore films on his own, and Castiel was always thrilled to be included in his late night Netflix adventures.

He clears his throat, unsure why he’s so nervous. He does like dinosaurs, after all. “So… you like this movie, right?”

“Hell yeah we do,” Dean says. “Sam and I watched it in theaters when it first came out. He wouldn’t shut up about velociraptors for months.”

“I was ten,” Sam protests, pink creeping across his cheeks. “Besides, it wasn’t even velociraptors. It was... dilophosaurus.” He’d trailed off into a barely audible mumble in his embarrassment, but it was still loud enough for Dean to hear.

“Oh, that’s right!” he laughs, eyes alight with the delighted gleam of a sibling collecting ammunition to tease with. “He’d sit in the library for hours searching for any mention of the damn thing. I always said he’d be better off with a T. Rex obsession like a normal kid, but no-o.”

Castiel leans over, nodding in Sam’s direction. “Well, I think dilophosaurus is a very good choice of favorite dinosaur.”

Sam looks surprised, and Jack, who’d been watching the conversation like a tennis match, looks to Cas directly.

“You know about dinosaurs?”

Castiel frowns, confused. “Yeah, of course I do.”

They’re cut off by Dean, who keeps talking as he’s sitting down on Jack’s other side with the remote control.

“Could’ve sworn we watched this one with you before, Cas. When we found it at that movie rental place in Minnesota, after that ghoul hunt?”

“We would’ve,” says Sam, tone caked in playful bitterness. “But you wanted to get Mars Attacks instead, remember?”

Dean looks a bit sheepish. “Hey, sometimes you need a good B movie after a day of ganking monsters. Today, though, we gotta get the kid another check off the list of Spielberg must-sees, right? Cas, too. We’ve waited long enough as is.”

Castiel has just enough time to hope once more that this movie is of a better quality than many of Dean’s other favorites, and then his thoughts are swept away by the opening sequence lighting up the television.

---

Jack enjoyed the movie immensely. He liked the scares and the way it made his heart beat faster. He liked the way Dr. Grant was so protective of the kids. Most of all, of course, he liked the dinosaurs.

He’d found a book about them the other day when he was cleaning in the library with Sam, and when Dean overheard their conversation he immediately suggested this movie.

Jack thought Cas would be just as interested in dinosaurs as he was, but the angel spent the whole movie with a frown on his face and a furrow between his eyes.

As the brothers stand up, Dean to turn on the lights and Sam to collect the empty snack bowls, Jack nudges Cas’ arm with his elbow.

“Are you okay?”

Cas meets Jack’s gaze with gentle eyes.

“I’m fine. I- I thought that the ending was a bit sad.”

Jack frowns. “How was it sad? Almost everyone got off the island.”

“That’s not…” Cas shakes his head, and takes a moment to compose himself before giving Jack a small smile. “You don’t need to worry about me, Jack. It just made me remember when the dinosaurs died.”

Shocked silence falls upon the room like a fog. Jack knows he’s gaping in disbelief, and feels Sam and Dean doing the same.

Cas glances around, taking in everyone’s surprise. “What’s wrong?”

“Dude,” Dean says. “Did you… are you…”

“Were you really there when the dinosaurs died?” Sam manages, sounding strained.

Cas answers slowly, eyes narrowed. “Yes? It was very sad, but it was a long time ago. I’ve had time to mourn.”

“But you were there!” Dean repeats, dumbfounded. Cas continues staring.

“Yes, Dean, I was there.”

“I mean, what- what was it like?” Sam asks, wonder in his eyes.

“Well, um. It was hot. And fiery.”

“It was hot and fiery,” Dean says, broken record. “Wow.”

“I don’t understand. Why are you… why is this such a surprise? I thought the dinosaurs’ extinction was common knowledge.”

“Yeah, but talking to someone who saw it is… it’s amazing,” Sam says. If he wasn’t holding the butter-greased popcorn bowls, Jack is sure he would be gesturing every which way. “Why didn’t you tell us about it before?”

Cas blinks. “I didn’t know that you were interested. I thought if you wanted to know, you’d just ask me.”

“Dude. We didn’t know we could ask! I mean, we knew you were older than the pyramids, but the dinosaurs? That’s, what, fifty million years?”

“Sixty-five,” chime Sam and Jack, in unison.

“Wait a minute, how old do you think I am?”

That gives them pause. Jack exchanges hopeless glances with Sam and Dean, the three of them clambering for any exact number in the recesses of their minds. Jack draws a blank, both because Cas doesn’t really talk about his past and because time is a little twisted for him to begin with.

He knows he’s almost two, and that two years is not a long time, but to Jack it feels like forever.

He knows his mother was thirty-nine when she died, and he knows Sam and Dean are hovering somewhere near forty. Cas has lived millions of years, and though Jack can’t quite wrap his mind around that vast length of time, he knows that makes Cas near eternal. Like Jack’s supposed to grow up to be.

Oddly, it’s a comforting thought.

“How old are you?” He asks it to put an end to the silence, and because he’s realized he really wants to know the answer.

Cas hesitates, brow creasing in thought. “It’s hard to say. The first thing I really remember is the tiktaalik, so I suppose that makes me…”

“Holy shit,” Sam breathes. He must know what the tiktaalik is, Jack thinks. He’ll have to ask about it later.

“Three and a half billion. Approximately,” Castiel finishes.

Jack can almost hear Dean’s jaw hit the floor.

“That old, huh?” Dean asks. His voice is strained, and he sounds faint.

“I might be closer to four billion, actually,” Cas muses.

“Okay, whoa,” Sam interjects, before Dean’s brain melts entirely. “That’s… that’s really impressive, Cas.”

“I- really?”

“Yeah, man,” Dean manages. But Cas still doesn’t look convinced, so Jack speaks up.

“You’re prehistoric!” he says. “I think that’s really special.”

Cas takes a long moment to respond, inexplicably looking younger as he processes their praise. It’s like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders- like for the first time in eons he feels like the years behind him, drenched in blood and pain and regret as they are, can be a gift rather than a curse.

Sam and Dean clap Castiel on the shoulder and take their leave from the room, the elder brother murmuring something about “antique angels” as they go.

Jack steps closer to Cas, clearing his throat.

“I, um. I found a book about dinosaurs the other day. Dean said that this movie would be educational, but… I was wondering if you could tell me about them? I don’t think I learned very much.”

“I would be happy to.” Cas smiles, reaching out to squeeze Jack’s shoulder. “This film wasn’t very accurate, anyway.”

“Really? How?”

“Well, for one thing, most of those dinosaurs didn’t even live during the same millennium. And they weren’t nearly so lizard-like. They had feathers.”

Jack responds in kind, whispering conspiratorially: “Like birds?”

“Sort of. Come on, I’ll draw some for you.”

Jack follows his father out of the room, smiling from ear to ear. Though the full scope of Castiel’s age remains far beyond his comprehension, Jack thinks it’s incredible. With all those years behind him, it’s no wonder that Cas is such a good parent.

Time is a teacher, and Cas has had a long life in which to learn. He has so much wisdom to share- and it’s not all about the dinosaurs, not because of the things he’s seen or the battles he’s won.

No, Castiel shines brighter than the most beautiful of stars. It’s a brilliance that comes from the inside out, forged through fire and pain and a heart stronger than diamond no matter how many times it’s broken.

Castiel shines with four billion years of love.

#hope you like it!#castiel #team free will 2.0 #my fic #spn fanfic #kitkat writes

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mikauzoran · 4 years ago

Text

Lukadrien: Your Hands Hold Home: Chapter Nineteen

@lukadrien-june

Read it on AO3: Your Hands Hold Home: Chapter Nineteen: Patrol

It was well past one in the morning when Adrien got back from patrol the following evening, so he was surprised to find Luka still awake, sitting on the couch in the main cabin, playing a mournful-sounding song on the violin.

“Please tell me you’re not waiting up for me. I’ll feel super guilty if you are,” Adrien groaned theatrically.

Luka chuckled, shaking his head and setting the violin aside.

“No need to feel bad,” he assured as Adrien took a seat on the couch beside him. “I’m just an insomniac. …How did patrol go?”

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he’d rather get it over with sooner rather than later.

“It went really well, actually,” Adrien answered with a happy little bounce.

“Good. That’s good,” Luka replied, hoping that he sounded more sincere than he felt.

It was so difficult to push his own feelings aside to just be happy for Adrien. It was hard to smile when it felt like his heart was breaking.

“We talked about all kinds of things,” Adrien continued enthusiastically, missing Luka’s misery. “She told me all about her Guardian training, even the stuff that’s supposed to be secret.”

“That’s good,” Luka repeated, internally cringing at how much he sounded like a skipping record. “I’m glad she’s keeping you informed.”

Adrien nodded. “She wants me to start coming over more often so I can get to know the other kwamis and so she can train me as Assistant Guardian. Isn’t that awesome?!” he prompted.

A genuine smile finally came to Luka’s face as he patted Adrien on the back. “That is awesome. I’m glad she’s finally saying ‘screw those monks and their rules’ and letting you in on the Guardian side of her duties. I know her mentor after Fu was really strict about keeping you at arms’ length, and I know that was always a point of contention between you two with you never feeling like you were on equal footing, so I’m glad she’s standing up to them.”

A warm smile slowly spread over Adrien’s lips like cupcake frosting. “Yeah. It really means a lot to me.”

“Is she going to be okay, though?” Luka asked uncertainly. “They’re not going to take the Guardianship away from her and wipe her memories for breaking the rules, are they? That’s what her mentor always threatened when she stepped out of line before, right?”

Adrien grimaced, shifting uncomfortably. “Right. Marinette said she doesn’t think they will. She’s started to doubt that they actually can, but…I guess we’ll see. Either way, she was really adamant about not cutting me out anymore no matter what they said.”

“I’m really glad to hear that,” Luka was able to say truthfully. “I know her being the Guardian has been like a huge wedge between you this whole time.”

“Yeah,” Adrien sighed, leaning forward and resting his forearms on his knees. “It’s a big relief to have that tension gone between us. We talked a lot about it—our partnership, the ways we felt like it was kind of broken. We both said sorry for a lot of things and talked about how we wanted to fix it.”

Adrien looked up, pride shining on his face. “I used a lot of the techniques you and Doctor Katsuragi have been working with me on about how to talk about my feelings and have healthy discussions about conflict.”

“Oh, yeah?” Luka chuckled, heart swelling. “I take it it went well?”

Adrien nodded energetically. “Really, really well. I mean, it was hard, and there was a lot of crying, but I feel really good about it. Marinette and I were long overdue for a talk like that. We needed that, so it was good to get it all out there and figure it out together. We still have a lot of work to do, but I think we’re going to be so much stronger going forward.”

“That’s really good, Adrien,” Luka replied, losing some of his enthusiasm as a chill set back in.

He could almost feel himself losing them both to one another, leaving him behind.

“Yeah. It was really good,” Adrien echoed less warmly, starting to get nervous.

He bit the inside of his cheek and shifted on the couch. “We got a lot of things sorted out…” He pointedly avoided Luka’s gaze. “…like our romantic feelings for one another.”

The bottom dropped out of Luka’s stomach, and he fought the urge to be sick as he carefully schooled his face into a neutral expression. “Oh, yeah? So…you two are dating now?”

Adrien rubbed at the back of his neck. “Uh…no, actually.”

Luka blinked as he tipped his head to the side. “No?”

He couldn’t have heard right.

Adrien shook his head. “No. We’re not dating.”

Luka frowned. “But…you love her, and she loves you. I thought…”

Adrien blew out a long sigh and leaned back into the couch cushions. “Yeah. No, we do. It’s just…complicated.”

“Complicated,” Luka repeated, trying to wrap his head around it all.

Adrien nodded. “She needs some time and some space. Now that being Ladybug and fighting to save Paris on a regular basis have calmed down, she needs some time for herself. She’s put a lot of things on the backburner these past few years so that she could focus on being a hero and the Guardian,” he explained, “so, now, she needs to prioritize herself and get some things figured out. It’s not really a good time for her to date at the moment.”

Luka slowly began to nod as he thought he understood the situation. “I’m glad she’s realized that she’s been neglecting things. It’s good that she’s working to try to restore balance. …So…are you two going to wait and try dating a little later?”

Adrien bit his lip and averted his gaze again. “I don’t know, but it won’t be anytime soon. Things aren’t exactly good for me right now either. I mean, I have a whole life to rebuild, so I don’t think starting a relationship is necessarily what I need to be doing either,” he rushed to get out.

“I mean, I guess I could, but it would have to be with someone I really trust and am already close to because I’m kind of a wreck right now, but it’s not like I’m totally against dating at the moment. It would just have to be, you know, the right person, so…”

Internally, Adrien groaned as his words came out in a muddled mess. He could only hope that Luka understood what Adrien really meant.

Judging by the look of confusion on Luka’s face, he either didn’t realize that Adrien meant Luka or he did understand what Adrien meant and was confused at the idea of a romantic relationship between himself and Adrien.

“So…you two have agreed to wait a year or so, or…?” Luka struggled to determine how long his suffering would be prolonged.

Adrien took a deep breath and looked Luka in the eye as he tried again to explain. “Actually, we might never date. We’re not waiting for each other or anything.”

Luka’s eyes flew wide. “What? Really?”

Adrien nodded. “We talked for a long time, and we decided that we always want to be close. We’ll always love one another, and we’ll always have a special bond as partners. We’re an important part of each other’s lives, but dating might not necessarily be in the cards for us. We each have other things we need to prioritize right now, so we agreed that, if it happens, it happens, but we’re just going to let things play out naturally.”

“Oh.” Luka swallowed. “Wow. That’s…”

“Besides, there’s someone else,” Adrien abruptly announced, practically stringing the words together as he turned his face away in an attempt to hide the fiery blush raging on his cheeks.

Luka stared, brain struggling to piece everything together.

He wondered if Adrien meant that Marinette had her eye on someone else or if he’d been speaking of his own feelings for a third party.

“…Well…I’m glad you guys talked and figured things out. That’s really good. I’m happy for you, Adrien,” Luka attempted to praise even though he still felt off kilter.

Adrien slowly turned his head to study Luka’s expression for any sign that Luka had understood what Adrien was trying to convey.

Luka’s face was carefully blank, devoid of any clues.

Adrien deflated, too afraid to press any further.

It was late, and he was physically and emotionally worn out.

Maybe Luka had understood but was politely pretending not to so as to save Adrien the pain of rejection.

Adrien didn’t have the courage to try again, so he forced a smile, replying, “Yeah. I’m glad I talked things out with Marinette too. It was good to get closure on some of that stuff.”

Luka nodded, not sure what to say in response besides some rehashing of the same things he’d been saying throughout the conversation.

For once, the silence between them was awkward and uncomfortable.

Unable to stand the tension, Adrien got to his feet, keeping the cheery expression pasted to his face. “Well, I’m off to bed. Good night.”

“Night,” Luka echoed.

Adrien started to turn to go but then thought better of it.

Summoning all of his courage, he leaned in and pressed a solid, unambiguous kiss to Luka’s cheek.

“Sweet dreams, Middle C,” he whispered.

A shiver ran down Luka’s spine as Adrien’s breath caressed his skin.

“Go to sleep already,” Adrien chuckled, pleased with the rosy blush and warm grin spreading across Luka’s face.

He winked and turned to go.

Luka almost choked on his own saliva and died.

He was very proud of himself when he managed to respond, “Thanks, but I don’t sleep, Perfect Fifth.”

Once Adrien had gone, Luka picked up his violin again and, with a besotted grin, began to play what he could remember of Uchiage Hanabi from the movie he’d watched with Adrien the other night.

#Lukadrien #Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Luka Couffaine #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Lukadrien June 2021 #MLB #Fluff #Slow Burn #Pining #Mutual Pining #Friends to Lovers #Writing Prompts #Mikau's Writings #Your Hands Hold Home

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amoderndreamletdown · 4 years ago

Text

Surprise!

Summary: Flynn wakes up on her birthday to Julie acting strange, and suspects she might be up to something.

AKA a Flynn nolastname birthday fic for her birthday!

Flynn always woke up early on her birthday. Usually it was due to the numerous texts and calls she would get from her friends wishing her a happy birthday, but, when she went to check her phone there were no notifications, not even from Julie.

“Huh,” Flynn said, wondering if Julie was still sleeping. However, this question was quickly answered when Flynn’s phone began ringing and displayed Julie’s contact.

“Hey. Jules,” Flynn said, answering the phone.

“Hey, Flynn,” Julie responded.

“Guess what day it is!” Flynn said to Julie, expecting her to get the hint.

“April Fools day?” Julie asked.

“What?” Flynn asked, confused. “No. I mean, yeah it is, but that’s not what I was talking about.”

“What el- oh, right, your birthday,” Julie said. “Happy birthday!”

“Thanks,” Flynn said, half-heartedly. “Did you seriously forget?”

“Sorry,” Julie apologized. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind with the band and everything.”

“Oh,” Flynn said, disappointed. “Are we still getting frozen yogurt?”

It was a tradition for Flynn and Julie to get frozen yogurt on both of their birthdays.

“Of course,” Julie said. “We could come to my house after, maybe hang out and order some pizza?”

“Yeah,” Flynn agreed. “That sounds fun.”

“Okay,” Julie said, and Flynn could hear the smile in her voice.

At noon, Julie and Flynn met up outside their favorite frozen yogurt shop on Sunset Boulevard.

“What flavor are you going to get?” Julie asked Flynn.

“Birthday cake and gummy bears, duh,” Flynn responded, stepping into the shop.

Julie laughed. “I’ll probably just get vanilla and cookie dough.”

“Boring,” Flynn responded, bumping into Julie’s shoulder and laughing.

Julie smiled and rolled her eyes. “I never got the appeal of putting gummy bears on frozen yogurt. They get hard and gross.”

“Hey, don’t you dare insult gummy bears on frozen yogurt,” Flynn told her.

Julie scrunched her nose, and began to fill up her bowl with frozen yogurt. Flynn followed her lead and began to put frozen yogurt in her own bowl. She then went over to the toppings counter and put sprinkles and gummy bears on her frozen yogurt.

“Gross,” Julie joked.

“You’re gross,” Flynn joked back. It wasn’t really a good comeback, but it was the best she could come up with.

Julie laughed, and motioned for Flynn to put her frozen yogurt on the scale. They knew the drill by now, whosoever birthday it wasn’t, had to pay for their frozen yogurt. Of course, neither of them minded, it was like buying the other a birthday present, even if they had already gotten them another.

Another tradition of theirs was to always eat outside. It didn’t matter how hot or cold it was, and if there were any tables left, they’d find a place to just sit and talk. They would finish their yogurt within minutes, but they would normally sit and talk for hours about random things like crushes and music. Luckily, they were able to find a table outside. They both sat down and began to eat their yogurt.

“So, how are you and Luke?” Flynn asked Julie, starting the conversation.

“We’re good,” Julie responded, her eyes twinkling. “We’ve written a lot of songs together, and I think we really click.”

Flynn smiled. “That’s great. I’m happy for you, Jules.”

Julie smiled even wider than before. “What about you and Carrie? Have you told her yet?”

“That I liked her?” Flynn asked. “Hell no. I mean I doubt she even likes me back. Besides, she just broke up with Nick.”

“Flynn that was months ago,” Julie told her. “And she told us she never really liked Nick anyways, she was just trying to hide her feelings for someone else.”

“I wish she had said who,” Flynn told Julie. “That would make this so much easier.”

Julie laughed. “You’ll figure it out, and, if you do tell her, just know you have my full support.”

Flynn smiled. “I already knew that, but thanks Jules.”

“Of course,” Julie said, then checked her phone. “Are you almost done. We need to get back to my house soon.”

“Why?” Flynn asked. “Is there something going on?”

“No,” Julie said, quickly. Too quickly, she was up to something.

“Okay,” Flynn said, suspicious.

Flynn finished her frozen yogurt then walked with Julie to her house.

“What is it?” Flynn kept pestering Julie.

“I’m not telling you,” Julie kept repeating, but Flynn kept trying to get it out of her, knowing she’d break eventually.

“C’mon Jules, please just tell me,” Flynn pestered.

“No,” Julie said, walking faster. Flynn knew it was to try and avoid her.

“C’mon, just give me a hint,” Flynn said.

“Nope,” Julie told her.

Flynn rolled her eyes. “Fine. Is it for my birthday?”

“Flynn-” Julie started, then replied, “maybe.”

“It so is!” Flynn said, excitedly, and gasped, “is it a surprise party?”

“N- yeah,” Julie said.

“Yes!” Flynn said, happily.

“Just try and act surprised, okay?” Julie asked.

“Fine,” Flynn said, then got more serious. “Did you invite Carrie?”

Julie laughed. “Of course I invited Carrie.”

Flynn smiled brightly. “Thanks, Jules.”

“Of course,” Julie responded.

When they got to Julie’s house, and everyone jumped out from their hiding places and yelled “surprise,” Flynn didn’t even have to pretend to be surprised. Almost everyone she knew was there including all of Dirty Candi, Nick, the Phantoms, Willie, and even Ray and Carlos.

“Wow,” Flynn had said. “Thanks guys.”

The crowd erupted into shouts of “you’re welcome,” “no problem,” and “of course.”

“Your presents are over on the couch if you want to open them,” Julie told her.

Flynn smiled, unlike Julie who insisted on eating cake before opening presents, Flynn was quite the opposite.

“Okay,” Flynn said, happily making her way over to the presents. She picked up the one closest to her. It was from Nick. Inside contained a pair of wireless headphones.

“For the next time you DJ,” Nick told her.

“Thanks,” Flynn thanked him, and set the box down. She then grabbed another one. This one was signed “from Dirty Candi.”

Flynn opened the box and found many pairs of earrings and a new shirt. Sure, it was a Dirty Candi shirt, but Flynn didn’t mind. Like Nick, she smiled and thanked them.

The next gift was from Ray and Carlos. She opened it up to find a new polaroid camera. She smiled, thanking them, as her old one had broken a few months before.

The next gift was from Willie and Alex. They had gotten her a skateboard and a helmet. She smiled.

“Are you finally gonna teach me to skateboard?” Flynn asked Willie.

Willie smiled. “I mean I would hope so, I got you the skateboard.”

Flynn laughed, then turned to Alex. “Thanks, both of you.”

Alex nodded. “Just make sure you wear the helmet.”

Flynn smiled. “Okay.”

The next present she opened was from Luke and Reggie. Inside she found a Sunset Curve T-shirt and a teal beanie.

“Thanks, guys!” Flynn exclaimed, getting on the beanie.

Luke and Reggie nodded.

The next gift Flynn grabbed was from Julie. She opened it to reveal a Julie and the Phantoms shirt that said “manager” on the back.

“I better be your manager,” Flynn said, and laughed. She then dug deeper into the gift bag and found a CD labeled “Flying Solo.”

“You recorded this?” Flynn asked.

Julie nodded. “Yeah, I figured it would be a good present.”

Flynn smiled. “You were right.”

Finally, Flynn opened the last present. It was from Carrie, which she didn’t expect since Dirty Candi had already given her a gift.

“You got me a present yourself?” Flynn asked Carrie, shocked.

Carrie nodded. “Yeah. Consider it the start of an apology for everything that I did.”

Flynn nodded, and opened the gift. In it, contained two front row VIP tickets to a Paramore concert, and the card simply said “date?”

“Really?” Flynn asked, happiness and adrenaline running through her body.

Carrie nodded. “If you want to.”

“Of course I want to!” Flynn exclaimed excitedly. “It’s a date.”

“A date?” Julie asked, excitedly, looking between the two of them, then smiled. “Okay, just have her home by midnight.”

Everyone laughed at Julie’s comment, but Flynn barely noticed. She couldn’t believe that Carrie had asked her out. She was so busy thinking about what she was going to wear that she almost missed Julie ask if she wanted cake.

“Yeah,” Flynn said. “That would be great.”

Flynn smiled. This was the best birthday she had ever had.

#me writing a fic at almost 1 am?#more likely then you think #some flarrie for the soul #also let's just say the phantoms became visible at the end of season 1 #and Flynn can see Willie #because i say so #julie and the phantoms #jatp #flynn nolastname #flynn jatp #flynn flynnigan #flarrie #netflixwewantjatpseason2

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rpf-bat · 4 years ago

Text

Underground, Getting Down

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Written for Gothtober 2020, Day 14. Prompt: “Symphony”.

You’re a flutist, playing in the New York subway for tips. Gerard watches one of your performances, and decides that his next single, needs a mad flute solo.

Beneath the streets of New York, the subway station bustled, filled with people. Some moved up the stairs, towards the streets, and others down the steps, towards the trains. Everyone in the crowd was rushing on to their next destination. At the base of the staircase, you stood, playing your flute.

Your flute case sat propped open on the tiles in front of you. A few bills already lined the inside. A young woman dropped another fiver in, as you played Bach’s ‘Flute Sonata in A Minor’.

You lifted your face from the instrument for a moment, to call out, “Thank you!”

The woman had already turned away from you, rushing down the corridor to catch the E train. You shrugged, returning your lips to the flute’s embouchure hole. Even the best buskers, rarely made someone stop in their tracks. The song ended.

I think I’ll mix it up, you decided, do something more pop for the next song.

You picked the Bach sheet music up off your stand, placing it back in your bag. Then, you pulled out the sheet music for Jethro Tull’s ‘No Lullaby’. This one was usually more impressive-sounding, when you had your friend, who played guitar, with you to do the intro. But, he was busy today, at his day job at Starbucks. You would just have to launch right into your solo.

Your fingers danced over the keys, as the music echoed off the walls of the tunnel. You found your mind wandering, as you played.

I really thought, when I graduated, that I was gonna play for the New York Philharmonic, you recalled wistfully. But, the auditions for first chair ended up being competitive as hell. Instead of playing high society symphonies, I just play out here, for the commuters and hobos.

It wasn’t what you had dreamed of - but it was a living.

As you continued your song, you felt a pair of eyes watching you. You glanced up from your songbook, and realized that a man was sitting, eerily still, on the steps. Hurried people were practically tripping over him, but he didn’t move, to get out of their way. He stayed exactly where he was. He didn’t look homeless, you considered. His face was hidden by thick aviator sunglasses, but his clothes suggested wealth. He was staring at you, with rapt attention, as if your flute, was the only sound in the world.

You found yourself blushing under his steady gaze, as the song concluded. You lowered your flute-holding arm to your side, and looked at the stranger again, curiously.

“Bravo!” he cried, clapping, and jumping up. “You were amazing!”

He walked over, and dropped a handful of bills, into your case.

Wait, what? All of those are hundreds!, you realized, eyes widening. Who the hell is this guy?

He pulled the sunglasses off his face, shaking his long, dark hair out of his eyes as he did so. Your jaw dropped, when you realized you recognized him.

“Hi,” he said casually, “my name’s Gerard Way.”

“I….I know who you are,” you stammered, scarcely believing this was real. Your inner emo kid was screaming. “What are you doing in New York?”

“Visiting family,” Gerard shrugged. “Well, technically, they live on the Jersey side of the river. But, I always have to stop by Forbidden Planet, when I’m in town.”

“Oh, you mean the comic shop, on Broadway?” you nodded. “Yeah, they’re pretty cool. I….I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Gerard grinned. “I really enjoyed that song, that you just did.”

“I….uh, really enjoy your music, too,” you said awkwardly. You didn’t want to sound like a fangirl.

“I’m actually working on some new music right now,” Gerard revealed.

“What?” you blinked. “Really? Wasn’t your last album in like…..2014?”

“Yeah, Hesitant Alien was four years ago, already!” Gerard chuckled. “I think I’m definitely overdue for something new!”

“Oh, wow,” your heart hammered excitedly. “I can’t wait to hear the new record, when it comes out!”

“I don’t know if I’m gonna do a whole second album,” Gerard confessed. “I think I’m just gonna put a couple singles out, and see how it goes.”

“I….I see,” you mumbled. This was crazy. Why was he telling all this, to a random busker, that he just met?

“I wanted to thank you, Y/N,” Gerard went on. “There’s this song I’ve been working on, for a couple months now. it’s just not sounding right to me, quite yet. You helped me realize what it’s missing.”

“And, what is that?” you wondered, still feeling bewildered.

“A flute solo,” Gerard grinned.

“Huh?” you gasped. “Who uses flute music, in a rock n roll song? I mean, besides Jethro Tull?”

“I love Jethro Tull,” Gerard laughed. “But, for real, it’s not that weird. Billy Corgan had some flutes on ‘Drum + Fife’, on the album Monuments To An Elegy.”

“Oh, true,” you remembered. “Didn’t that drop in 2014, too?”

“Yeah, I actually got to open for him, on that tour!” Gerard said excitedly. “That was when I decided that I wanted to bring a flute into one of my own songs, someday.”

“Wow,” you realized, “You’re serious about this.”

“I am,” Gerard said, looking you in the eyes. “But….can we talk about this somewhere else? I’m worried if I stay in one place much longer, somebody is gonna spot me, and start asking for pictures.”

“Oh, uh, sure!” you nodded.

“I think if we go up to the street level, there’s a coffee shop, like, right outside,” Gerard suggested.

“You’re…..asking me to get a cup of coffee with you?” you grasped. Was this a date?

“Yeah,” Gerard said, turning red, as he awkwardly combed his fingers through his hair. “Is, uh, is that okay with you?”

“......Absolutely,” you smiled. “Just let me put my flute away!”

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Gerard had insisted on carrying your flute case for you, despite the short walk. He was such a gentleman. You did not, however, allow him to buy your cup of coffee for you. He’d already given you that absurd tip, when he first strolled over to your busking spot.

You stared at him across the table, as he sipped his latte. This still felt entirely unreal.

“So, the song I’m working on,” Gerard explained, “It’s called ‘Getting Down The Germs.’”

“...Germs?” you repeated, confused.

“The lyrics are still a work in progress,” Gerard admitted. He dug into the pocket of his green coat, and pulled out a small, tattered-looking notebook. He opened it to a page near the back, and pushed it towards you. “This is what I have so far.”

You took the book gingerly, feeling as if you’d been handed a holy text. The words on the page, were written in a surprisingly untidy scrawl:

It's never the same and the nights always glow

There's nothing to see and nowhere to go

It's easy to say you're happier when you're disturbed

The green lights in your head

Getting down the germs

I'm lazy and tame and the chimes always blow

A glimmering sound on the breeze when you go

It's never a shame and I've learned to live with the worms

Underground

Getting down the germs

“That sounds really good so far,” you complimented. “I’m guessing that’s supposed to be the chorus?”

“Yeah,” Gerard nodded. “I usually write the choruses first. The verses, I’m still figuring out.”

“Makes sense,” you replied, as you sipped your drink. “What about the melody?”

“Oh, the melody’s pretty much completely done,” Gerard clarified. “But….I don’t know. There’s this bridge that comes before the second verse. I originally planned for that to be a guitar solo, but it just doesn’t sound right.”

“You think the solo would sound better, played on a flute?” you surmised.

“Yeah, exactly!” Gerard said enthusiastically. You wondered if the caffeine was getting to him.

“....Do you even know how to play the flute?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” Gerard shook his head. “But, you do.”

“....What are you saying?” you blinked.

“That’s why I asked you to come up here with me,” Gerard explained. “Y/N…..would you be willing to go into the studio with me, and record a flute solo, for the track?”

You choked on your drink.

“Wh….What?” you wheezed, coughing from the coffee that had gone down the wrong way. “A-Are you serious?”

“....Can you breathe?” Gerard asked, putting a concerned hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah, I can breathe,” you managed, trying not to hyperventilate even more.

“Good,” Gerard smiled, “because I am serious, Y/N. Your flute playing really impressed me. I won’t drag you all the way out to LA, of course. But, if I find a studio space, here in New York, will you work with me?”

“Yes!” you cried. “Oh my god, yes!”

This wasn’t what you had dreamed of - it was more.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

A few days later, you found yourself in a recording studio, in Lower Manhattan. You’d never seen so much professional equipment like this before. You’d always just performed for live audiences.

Can I really do this?, you asked yourself, hit with a wave of uncertainty.

“Y/N, thank you so much for coming out here, and joining us today,” Gerard greeted you. His smile, somehow instantly put you at ease.

“This is Doug McKean,” he introduced, indicating a man in the corner. “He’s my producer.”

“Nice to meet you, Doug,” you said politely, shaking hands.

“And this is Ian Fowles,” Gerard said, indicating a second guy, with longer hair. “He was my touring guitarist, when I went on the road with Hesitant Alien.”

“Oh, I remember seeing him, when you guys played Irving Plaza,” you recalled.

“You were at that little gig we did, in Union Square?” Ian smiled.

“Yeah, of course I bought a ticket!” you smiled back. “You guys were amazing!”

“Aw, you really think so?” Gerard reddened, looking flattered.

“I really do,” you replied. My Chemical Romance had been your favorite band, since your teens. When they had broken up, five years ago, you had been heartbroken. But, you’d found Gerard’s solo work, to be equally amazing - just in a different way.

“Well, thank you, Y/N,” Ian said quietly. “Has Gerard explained to you, what we’re going to be doing today?”

“Yeah, he said he wants me to do a flute solo for you guys,” you said, almost not believing your own words.

“Let’s start from the beginning of the song,” Doug directed. “Ian, can you take us from the top, please? I know we got a great take of your part yesterday, but I feel like we can still do better.”

“Definitely,” Ian agreed. He shrugged his guitar strap over his head, and stepped into the recording booth. You listened intently, as he played the opening notes. The tune was definitely different from anything MCR had done. But, it didn’t sound quite like Hesitant Alien, either. You were intrigued by the new musical direction that Gerard seemed to be heading in.

“Alright, cut,” Doug called, pressing a button, to stop recording. “Ian, that was good. Gerard, it’s your turn to get in there. I want to hear that verse you were working on the other day.”

“Alright,” Gerard nodded. You watched him put his headphones over his ears, and timidly approach the microphone. A blush crept into his cheeks. Did it make him nervous, to have you, as an audience?

“The answer’s always no,” Gerard sang, “to questions of a private nature…...the lights are always low, in settings of a conversation…..”

He seemed to grow more confident, as the song continued. By the time he got to the chorus, he was belting it out. He sounded incredible.

“....How was that?” he asked finally.

“Amazing,” you breathed.

Gerard’s cheeks reddened at your compliment. He stayed quiet, as he watched Doug take the vocal track, and mix it with Ian’s guitar playing. He played back the clip, of the two spliced together. The parts formed an even more impressive whole.

“Alright, Y/N, it’s your turn,” Doug commanded. “Show us what you can do.”

You gulped. You weren’t sure that you could do anything, that was on the same level, as what you just heard.

“You can do it,” Gerard encouraged. “You played an amazing solo, in front of a whole station worth of people yesterday. Playing for three dudes like us, should be nothing.”

That’s different, you thought to yourself. I don’t have a huge crush on everyone in the station.

“Here’s the sheet music,” Ian said, handing you a piece of paper. “I really like what Gerard’s composed here. But, I think he’s right. It’s going to sound better on your instrument, than mine.”

You took the sheet, and grabbed the flute case, out of your backpack. Taking a deep breath, you walked into the booth. Your fingers trembled on the middle joint of the flute. You glanced up at Gerard, who was sitting on the other side, of the pane of glass.

He gave you a friendly smile, and a dorky-looking thumbs-up. You chuckled, your nerves dissipating.

Alright, you told yourself. I got this. You brought your lips to the head joint, and began to play.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“I don’t know,” you said, as you stepped back out of the booth. “Do you think that was okay?”

“That was incredible,” Gerard gushed, pulling you into an impulsive hug. His arms were so soft and warm.

“Like, wow, what are you?” Ian gaped. “The secret lovechild of Ian Anderson, or something?”

“Ha, I wish,” you laughed. “I’m just your average band kid.”

“I wouldn’t call that average,” Gerard insisted, staring into your eyes, as he still held you close. “I was right….the flute just fits perfectly in with the song. And you’re the perfect person to play it.”

“Y/N, I can show you what the guitar and the flute will sound like together,” Doug offered, “If you could, uh, let go of her for a moment, Gee.”

“O-oh, right,” Gerard stammered, releasing you quickly. You blushed, and turned away.

Doug began to play the edited-together track for you. You couldn’t believe it - your flute, Ian’s guitar, and Gerard’s vocals, blended together, into something incredibly beautiful.

“I wasn’t sure if the flute was going to go well, with your style of music,” you confessed. “My background is the symphony orchestra. Most of the time, you only really see the flute, used in classical music, like that. I wasn’t sure if you could make it sound rock n’ roll. But...it works! Somehow.”

“It does,” Gerard agreed. “Y/N…..I’m so, so glad that I met you.”

His eyes sparkled as he looked at you. It made your heart pound, for reasons you couldn’t articulate.

“Y/N,” Doug said, bringing you back to reality, “that first take was great, but I’d like you to try it again for me, please.”

“Of course,” you acquiesced. “I’ll give it as many takes as it needs.”

“I feel like we could all use some coffee first, though,” Ian decided. “Doug? You want to run down the street with me, to get it?”

“Yeah, I guess it’s our turn, since Gerard ran and got the last round,” Doug agreed. “Y/N - what can we get you?”

“Oh, just a vanilla latte, I guess,” you decided.

“Coming right up,” Ian smiled. “We’ll be right back.”

The guitarist and producer got up and left. Your pulse quickened again, as you realized, that you were now alone in the room with Gerard. It felt different, than it had at the station, or the coffeeshop. Both of those times, there were plenty of other people around. But now…..?

“It’s just you and me,” Gerard said softly. He was still staring at you.

“Y-Yeah,” you said nervously. “I guess we got quite a day ahead of us, huh?”

“Yup,” Gerard said awkwardly. “Doug’s not gonna let you leave, until you get your part just right.”

“.....Gerard,” you asked, “why did you pick me for this job? You could have gotten anyone to play flute for you. I’m nobody.”

“I told you, your performance got my attention,” Gerard reminded you. “I was just passing through the station, minding my own business. But, when I heard the sound of your flute…..I stopped still. I was like, oh my god, this is the sound that I’ve been looking for.”

“Was it really that great?” you asked, feeling unsure of yourself.

“Yes!” Gerard insisted. “Y/N, I swear to god, it was like I was hypnotized. By that incredible sound….and by the beauty, of the person making it……”

“Beauty?” you repeated, your face going hot. Did he mean…..?

“I won’t lie to you,” Gerard said softly. “The moment I laid eyes on you, in that subway tunnel, I was so attracted to you.”

“You think I’m attractive?” you realized, eyes going wide.

“Yes,” Gerard whispered, looking you up and down, with evident desire. “I’m sorry…..you probably think I’m just a creepy, older dude….”

“You’re not creepy!” you shook your head. “Gerard, I’ve always thought that you were extremely good-looking.”

“You’re…..attracted to me, too?” Gerard put two and two together.

You weren’t sure which of you took a step towards the other first, but, before you knew it, you were in his arms. He kissed you gently, but your body quickly responded to him, and the kiss rapidly turned more passionate.

He pressed you against the studio wall, his hands trailing down your body, as the kiss continued.

“.....G-Gerard,” you gasped. “The others could walk back in, at any minute.”

“If they interrupt us,” Gerard said, his voice husky, “we could always continue this, at my hotel, after the recording session is over.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” Gerard panted, as your lips found his neck. “Oh, fuck, yeah…..I got a room at a five star hotel in Times Square, that I would love to show you.”

“When do you have to go back to LA?” you asked, gasping for breath, as he kissed you again.

“I’m supposed to go home on Saturday,” Gerard confessed. “But, if you keep kissing me like that….I might just miss the flight.”

#gerard way x reader #gerard way imagine #gothtober #i gotta stop posting these at 2 am

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i-stan-nct-and-satan · 5 years ago

Text

Not Broken Part 10 (Jaehyun Mafia AU)

Not Broken Masterlist

Jaehyun X Reader

Y/N is a burlesque dancer living in Seoul. Jaehyun is one of the most powerful mafia men in Seoul. How will Y/N survive when Jaehyun suspects that she is involved with a rival gang?

Reasons to read this story: Ten's a cross-dressing madam so..... yeah read it ya freaks.

Trigger warning: mentions of physical abuse, mentions of sexual abuse

“Wow.”

Taeyong was the first to break the silence once the tape ended.

Everyone in the room turned their heads to look at their boss. They had been gauging his reactions as they all listened to the tape, but no one dared to make eye contact with him until now.

His unreadable expression juxtaposed the guilt-ridden faces that filled the room.

Jaehyun remained silent as he processed the contents revealed in the tape.

“Damn. We fucked up,” Mark offered, attempting to ease the tension in the room.

An abrupt fist slammed onto the table, immediately prompting Mark to regret the words that fell past his lips.

“What did you just say?” Jaehyun dared Mark to repeat himself.

“Uh. I-I just,” Mark stuttered.

“You what?”

“I was just saying that we made a mistake. That’s all.”

“A mistake? You think that I made a mistake?”

“N-no sir, I just meant.”

“What else could you have meant?” Jaehyun challenged, standing up from the table.

“What about the rest of you? Who else thinks that I made a mistake in how I’ve chose to deal with the situation at hand?”

The room was silent as Jaehyun looked around at his men.

“Don’t think that this changes anything. This tape is just another factor to consider. We’ve dealt with hostages in the past who have come up with more convincing stories than this one. The fact of the matter is that we’ve just heard another story and we don’t know if it’s true or not and even if it is, that still doesn’t mean that we were anything less than professional in how we’ve gone about this mission. I expect you all to remember who we are and why we’re here.”

Jaehyun looked at his second in command whose eyes were currently glued to the floor.

“To find the bastard who killed IU. Don’t let your feelings get in the way of that. Y/N isn’t a woman, she’s a suspect. Remember that.”

<><><><><><><><>

I shut the water off.

“Finished?”

“Yeah.”

“Here’s a towel.”

I instinctively crossed my arms over my breasts, half expecting Winwin to pull back the curtain completely. I was relieved when instead, Winwin’s hand enter the shower only to hand me a fluffy, oatmeal-colored towel.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, cursing myself under my breath for having thanked one of my captors.

“When you’re done drying off, wrap yourself **** and then come out,” the raven-haired boy instructed.

I quickly ran the towel over my body before using it to give my hair a quick ruffle with it to keep my hair from dripping all over. I didn’t want to rush, but I didn’t want to risk irritating the man acting as my prison guard, so I wasted no time in wrapping the towel around my frame before stepping out into the spacious bathroom.

Winwin’s eyes only looked over my body for a brief moment before he walked over to the door. The apparent disinterest in his stare caused me to wonder if he was only looking to make sure I wasn’t hiding anything under my towel. Maybe he really wasn’t interested in women, not that a man’s lack of attraction to me meant that he lacked an attraction to any woman. I wasn’t deluded enough to think that.

“Are you coming or not?” he asked, obviously annoyed.

Yet again, I had found myself distracted by unimportant thoughts. I followed him out the door and back into the large bedroom.

“What’s your size?”

“Excuse me?”

Winwin rolled his eyes as he grabbed my free hand, the one that wasn’t holding my towel in place. He guided me over to a black dresser whose shiny painted coating gave it an obsidian-like appearance. I lost myself in the reflection of the black surface and for a fleeting second, I questioned whether a dresser made of obsidian was really that farfetched of an idea, especially in a house like this.

Winwin kneeled in front of the dresser and opened the bottom drawer. He took out a few pairs of pants before closing the drawer and opening the one above it. I watched as he continued to open each drawer, take out a few articles of clothing and then close them again. Once his arms were filled with clothing, he stood up and walked over to the neatly made bed. He dropped the clothing onto the bed, ruining its once wrinkle free surface.

“See what fits.”

I turned to Winwin, now aware of what he had meant before when he asked for my size.

“I don’t want to change in front of you.”

Winwin rolled his eyes for the hundredth time.

“Then I guess you better check the sizes to see what fits **** you don’t have to do it more than once,” he instructed.

Knowing that he wasn’t going to budge, I walked over to bed and inspected the labels on each article of clothing. I had only meant to look at the sizing, but I couldn’t help but notice the branding that adorned each piece. Dior, Chanel, and Versace littered the bed spread. Lucky for me, the clothes all seemed to be roughly my size with only a few exceptions that were definitely meant for someone much thinner than me. For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to choose any of the articles that appeared to be on the more expensive side, so I grabbed the plainest white T shirt I could find and a pair of jeans. I couldn’t help but notice that even the T shirt, which the average person wouldn’t have been able to distinguish from one that came in a Hanes value pack, had a Gucci tag on the inside.

Rich people, I swear.

I turned away from Winwin and gave my best attempt to put on the shirt and jeans while still hiding my body with the towel. There wasn’t any underwear on the bed to choose from, but I figured that was because Winwin believed that no underwear was better than used underwear, a sentiment I agreed with.

“Hey Winwin?” I asked as I awkwardly changed into the fresh set of clothing.

“Hm?”

“Whose room is this?”

Winwin paused for a few seconds as he organized his thoughts.

“Lee Ji-eun's.”

I shot Winwin a glance while continuing to change.

“Oh. Who is that?” I probed further as I pulled the shirt over my head.

“Jaehyun’s sister. The one who was killed by Lucas.”

The towel dropped to my feet.

<><><><><><><><>

“So, what do we do now, sir?” Johnny asked, cautious not to piss his boss off any more than he already was.

“Right now, we have to check her story out for any inconsistencies. Taeil, recheck the footage from the ball. If there’s anything we missed, we need to find it.”

“Got it,” Taeil obliged, opening his laptop.

“Johnny, go tell Winwin to take the girl back to the basement,” Jaehyun commanded.

“On it.”

Johnny turned to leave when the sound of vigorously clacking keys came to a sudden stop.

“Um, boss?” Taeil gulped, causing both Johnny and Jaehyun to turn towards him.

“You might want to take a look at this,” he continued, rotating the screen so they could see.

“Crap,” Jaehyun muttered, gritting his teeth.

Taeyong positioned himself beside Jaehyun so that he could see what his friend was referring to.

“Oh no.”

“What? What is it?” Mark asked as he tried to see the screen only for Jaehyun to close it.

“They know.”

Everyone’s eyes were on Jaehyun as Taeyong took the lead in updating everyone.

“That was a message from Wayv. They know Y/N killed Lucas and they know we have her. Not only that, but they’re demanding we give her to them.”

“Wait, so that confirms that Y/N’s story is true, right? That she didn’t have anything to do with IU’s death,” Mark exclaimed excitedly.

Jaehyun sent a glare towards Mark.

“What it means is that we have a rat among us, moron,” Doyoung spat.

“W-what?” Mark faltered.

“That’s right,” Jaehyun began.

“It makes sense that word would spread after the events of the burlesque show. It wouldn’t be that much of a surprise if they figured out the identity of the girl we took or even why we took her, but one thing’s for sure, there was no way that they could have found out about the contents on the tape without someone here leaking it.”

“Jae, you know that no one here would betray us, and besides, there are over ways they could have found out. They could have hacked us,” Taeyong voiced.

“How Taeyong? We used as old-fashioned recording device,” Jaehyun boomed.

“No evidence of hacking our networks either,” Taeil chimed in having reopened his laptop.

“What about hidden cameras?”

Taeil lifted his head from the laptop.

“Not a chance there either. I implemented a system that messes with the electromagnetic frequency of certain HighTech transmitting recording devices. That’s why we use older forms of recording devices.”

Taeyong sat down, looking defeated.

“Okay, but... who could it even be?”

A pregnant pause washed over the room as everyone attempted to cease their wandering eyes.

“Fuck!” Jaehyun cursed causing everyone to look at him.

“Winwin is alone with Y/N right now! That bastard!”

Jaehyun turned to Taeyong.

“Hurry, we need to find them before-”

“Before what?” Taeyong panted.

“If Winwin’s the mole, he might be under orders to hand Y/N over to Wayv or to kill her on the spot. We have to find them, now!” he yelled before they both started charging towards the East wing.

Johnny hesitated for a moment before turning to the remaining members at the table.

“Come on, let’s go.”

Now it was Johnny’s turn to start running towards the East wing with Mark following quickly behind.

Doyoung got up to follow but was stopped by a sudden hand that tugged at his wrist. Doyoung faced his purple haired partner.

“What?”

“You don’t think that Winwin’s actually the mole, do you?”

Doyoung’s face softened slightly before looking down at Taeil, who was purposely avoiding his gaze.

“I don’t know, but it’s not our place to challenge orders.”

Once the blue streaked boy disappeared from their vision, Yuta and Taeil merely stared at the empty doorway.

“Winwin please,” Taeil prayed softly

<><><><><>

“Are you done changing?” Winwin asked.

“Oh, umm. Yeah,” I commented, having been suddenly caught off guard.

I bent over to grab the towel that had fallen at my feet.

Winwin did his best to explain everything to me. He told me that IU was Jaehyun’s sister and that she was killed by Lucas. He explained how Wayv defected from NCT and how they’ve been unable to find him since the incident. Winwin even told me how the necklace I was wearing the night I was kidnapped had belonged to her and that led Jaehyun and the rest of NCT 127 to believes that I had something to do with his sister’s death. I stood there and listened to him without any comments or questions. It was too much to take in all at once.

“What? Are you surprised?” he questioned, observing your reaction.

“No,” I lied.

I thought they were interrogating me for Lucas’ death but instead they thought I was responsible for his sister’s death? I almost died because of that mistake. Even if that’s why he acted the way he did, he nearly beat me to death and over a goddamn misunderstanding. I scoffed in bewilderment. Winwin stared at me eyebrows raised.

“I was just noticing how I’m getting better at understanding your accent,” I lied again.

I was amazed that Winwin’s eyes didn’t fall out of his head due to all the eyerolling he did.

“Oh wow. What an honor,” he mused sarcastically.

“So...” I began.

“So...?”

I laughed at the amount of courage I was feeling. Especially since it didn’t make much sense in this situation.

“So, what was she like?”

“IU? Well... She wa-”

Winwin was cut off when the door to the bedroom was slammed open. The interruption was so abrupt and unexpected that I fell back onto the bed. Winwin, however, seemed unaffected by the pink haired man who had suddenly crashed the conversation. Only seconds after Jaehyun entered the room, a certain fiery red head soon followed suit.

Jaehyun’s gaze met mine and a wave of relief seemed to wash over him, softening his usually stiff features. I, of course, hadn’t noticed this. I was too anxious to decipher the meaning behind his expression since I was still in fear for my life.

His breathing was heavy and uneven making it obvious that he had run here. He stared at Winwin, giving himself a few seconds to catch his breath and assemble his thoughts before approaching the composed man in a less than composed manner.

“You bastard!” Jaehyun’s hands grabbed Winwin’s shoulders, forcing his narrow frame into the wall.

Despite their similar heights, Winwin’s body, which looked as though it had been defined through years of hand-to-hand combat, looked almost fragile next to Jaehyun’s more muscular build. Anyone else would have surely felt overcome with alarm and panic if put in Winwin’s position, yet the man himself seemed to be more annoyed than anything.

“Admit it, you worthless piece of shit.”

Johnny and Mark were the next to run through the bedroom door, then Doyoung, but I hadn’t noticed their presence until Taeyong’s hand came into my field of vision. I looked up at him, realizing that he was offering to help me up. I accepted without thinking.

“Mark over here is going to take you somewhere. Follow everything he says, okay?”

Despite his intimidating features, his gaze resembled that of a concerned mother. His watery eyes mirrored mine and I couldn’t help but trust that his instructions were in my best interest. I nodded in response before the nearby blonde guided me into the hall.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Winwin’s bitter stare bore holes into the hands that were wrinkling his shirt.

“And what exactly is it I should be admitting?” he challenged, making no effort to remove himself from his boss’s grip.

“Don’t fuck with me, Winwin. Or should I say Sicheng?” Jaehyun spat.

Winwin’s irritation turned into genuine confusion once the name had reached his ears.

After a short pause, Winwin’s eyes widened in realization only for them to tightly squeeze shut.

“What did Kun do?”

An oppressive force filled the room and the now somber atmosphere resembled that of a funeral rather than an interrogation.

Jaehyun removed his hands from Winwin but his unmoving figure informed his curly haired underling that he wasn’t finished with him yet.

“Wayv knows.” Jaehyun carefully analyzed Winwin’s reactions as he disclosed this new information.

Winwin looked past his boss’ shoulders at the other four men standing in the room with them. Doyoung stared back at him while Johnny and Mark did their best to avoid meeting his gaze. Taeyong simply shook his head at what was happening in front of him.

“About what? The girl?” he finally responded.

When Jaehyun gave no hint of confirming nor denying his presumption, he continued to press on.

“And what? You think I’m the one who told them? What evidence do you have of that? None, right?” Winwin scoffed.

“Well who else would it be?”

“Winwin is innocent!”

Everyone’s eyes shot towards the two men who had abruptly entered the bedroom.

“What do you mean?” Jaehyun asked.

“The message from Wayv. It wasn’t traceable.” Yuta explained.

“So? It isn’t uncommon for an enemy message to be untraceable. It’d be sloppy of them if it was.”

“Yes, but this time it’s different,” Taeil began.

“Normally with messages like these, we can at least trace them back to an IP address even though they’re almost always dead ends, but when I traced the origins of this message ...”

“Get to the point, Taeil,” Jaehyun ordered.

“Yes, sir. When I searched for the message’s origin, the IP address the message was sent from matched the IP address of the computer that received it.”

“In other words, it was sent from Taeil’s laptop,” Yuta translated.

“Wait, what does that mean? So, someone had access to Taeil’s computer?” Taeyong asked.

“Well kind of. As you all know, I’ve been the only one who’s had any direct physical contact with my laptop over the last few days,” Taeil explained.

“So, what are you saying?” Jaehyun huffed.

“Someone hacked my laptop without me knowing. I gotta give it to them, I had no idea and right now I don’t have any idea how long they’ve had access or how much control they had, but at this point, it’s highly probable that they’ve accessed control of everything my laptop has control of, including any systems we’ve implemented not to mention it’s microphone and camera.”

“So, they can hear everything Taeil’s laptop could hear,” Yuta summarized.

Jaehyun turned back to Winwin.

“Don’t think this means we’re done here,” He growled.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Winwin smirked at his boss.

“Taeil? Where’s your laptop right now?” Jaehyun asked the brown-haired man.

<><><><><><><><><><><><>

“So, how are you?” Mark asked as we walked down the winding hallways.

I stopped and looked at him, the irritation in my face somehow went over his head.

“So, is that like a not good?”

“Oh no, I’m great. I might have two black eyes but at least I don’t have three,” I spat out before resuming my pace.

Mark sighed.

“Where are we even going?” I asked, still peeved.

“You know what, I don’t actually know. Taeyong didn’t give me any orders beyond telling me to get you out of there.”

“How did I get myself into this mess?” I muttered under my breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

Mark looked around as we continued down the hall. I could tell there was something on his mind, but I couldn’t bring myself to care what it was.

“Hey,” He loudly called out even though I was walking right next to him.

I gave him a quick glance before returning my gaze forward.

“What?” I asked.

“Are you hungry?”

Before I could even think of an answer, my stomach thought of one for me.

Mark’s laughter added to my annoyance, but I chose to stay silent.

“I know where we should go.”

<><><><><><><><><><><><>

“Boss, what are we planning to do?” Johnny asked following his colleagues as they journeyed down the East wing’s halls.

“Do you think that we can mislead them by giving them fake information or something?” Yuta half-asked half-suggested.

“Not an option,” Taeil chimed in.

“Exactly. If Wayv has complete access to Taeil’s laptop, then they already know that we’ve found them out. The only thing we can do now is destroy it and initiate the emergency systems.” Jaehyun stopped before looking to Taeil.

“Unless you think you’d be able do anything.”

“Sorry, boss. That’s a no go. They’re already ten steps ahead of me if they managed to hack into my computer system and if they know that we’ve discovered their presence, they’re probably working to get twenty steps ahead as we speak.”

“Then it’s settled,” Jaehyun began as he and his men turned the corner entering the kitchen.

“We’ll incinerate the laptop before we-”

Jaehyun’s words came to a sudden halt as he found himself staring at Y/N and Mark sitting and eating on the kitchen counter.

“What do you think? I was right, huh?” Mark asked, handing me the packet of gummy candy we were sharing.

“Hmmm. I don’t know, I kind of like the sour apple ones better than the watermelon.”

“Psh, whatever. More for me I gue- Boss!”

I turned towards the group of men who had entered the kitchen. When my eyes landed on the man who was responsible for my wrecked state, I froze.

“What is this?” Jaehyun demanded as he approached us.

Despite knowing that the question was directed more towards Mark than at the both of us, I still struggled to form anything even close to resembling a coherent thought. I had just watched this man get into it with Winwin without personally feeling the slightest ounce of fear, but now his aggression was being directed towards me and Mark. I hadn’t noticed until Mark started speaking that he must have felt the same way.

“I umm we-”

“I instructed Mark to take Y/N to the kitchen to get her some food,” Taeyong winked.

Jaehyun turned back towards the redhead that was standing behind him.

“Well let’s hope for your sake and theirs that they didn’t say anything of any importance while sitting only one room away from our little problem.”

“Huh? What problem?” Mark inquired more curious than fearful at this point.

Instead of answering, Jaehyun motioned for Doyoung to come closer. After whispering in his ear and pointing towards the living room, Doyoung nodded and left for the nearby room.

“Taeil and Yuta, go catch Mark up on everything upstairs” Jaehyun ordered.

“As for you,” Jaehyun rumbled, turning his head towards Winwin.

“Until we know for sure what’s going on, Johnny will be tasked with staying by your side. Johnny, make sure you keep an eye on him.”

“Um. I can watch him boss,” Yuta volunteered.

Jaehyun immediately shook his head.

“Johnny will be in charge of watching Winwin and that’s final. I need you to help Taeil explain the situation to Mark in terms that he’ll understand. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir.” Yuta acquiesced.

Mark hopped off the countertop and offered me up a sympathetic look before heading off with his colleagues.

It was just us three now. I could hear my heart beating in my chest. It only made me more anxious as I feared that he could hear it too and that he might end my life just to rid himself of the bothersome sound.

I kept my eyes glued to the floor as to not disrespect the man in front of me. I wasn’t going to risk pissing him off any more than I already had, not while my skin was still splashed with shades of blue and violet.

I could sense his stare and though I was fearful of the consequences that would arise might my eyes meet his, I couldn’t suppress my curiosity for more than a few brief moments and so I surrendered to his gaze. Though I had expected to see a look of rage, what I was met with instead was that of confusion. He looked over my body as though examining an antique he was trying to set a fair price for. It wasn’t the most objectifying look I had received. Far from it, in fact, but I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious under his scrutinizing gaze. I had no idea what was going on. Now that they found out what happened with me and Lucas, NCT 127 had no use for me anymore and Jaehyun was probably thinking of what to do with me. If he was going to kill me, wouldn’t he have done it by now? Perhaps he had something else in store for me. Was this pink haired mob boss contemplating whether I’d be profitable if he were to sell me as a sex slave?

“Those clothes,” He growled.

I blinked a few times, waiting for him to finish his thought.

“Take them off.”

“W-what?” I stuttered aghast.

“Boss?” Taeyong quirked, voice riddled with concern.

“I said, take them off. Now.” His voice boomed.

My already uneven breathing quickly turned into full on hyperventilation. I looked for an exit hoping to find any way out of the mess that I was in, but it was no use. My heart was beating faster than a rabbit whose foot was caught in the teeth of a large predator. Adrenaline filled my veins, yet I was too fearful to use it. I was frozen in place, unable to think, speak, or move even an inch. The familiar sight of black dots began to dull my vision until there was nothing else to be seen.

“Shit!” Taeyong cursed as he scrambled to my side.

“What the hell was that?!” He shouted as he checked to make sure the fall didn’t do any serious damage.

“Those clothes,” Jaehyun muttered bitterly. “They’re IU’s.”

“So?! Just because you don’t like seeing someone else wear IU’s clothing doesn’t mean you can just order them to strip, Jaehyun! Do you have any idea what she must have been thinking?”

“She’s not just someone else. She’s the girl who’s involved in IU’s death.”

“No, she’s not, Jae. You saw Wayv’s message. Her story was true,” Taeyong stood up from Y/N’s side. He was practically yelling at his boss.

“You don’t know that. She could be working with them!”

Taeyong grabbed Jaehyun by the shoulders.

“Snap out of it, Jae! Stop looking at her like she’s the person who killed your sister and start seeing her for what she is, one of Lucas’ victims, just like your sister. No, actually. Scratch that. You should start thinking of her as the girl who killed the man who killed your sister because that being the case, maybe you should thank her instead of doing whatever the hell it is you think you’re doing!”

Taeyong immediately regret the words as they left his mouth, but it was too late. He braced himself for whatever reaction Jaehyun would have to his verbal lashings, but he wasn’t prepared for his boss’s lack of a reaction.

Jaehyun scowled at his second in command before looking at the hands that still held onto his shoulders. Taeyong noticed this and immediately released his hold on the mob boss in front of him. Jaeyong continued to stare at Taeyong as he contemplated his words.

“Then what do you suppose we do with her?” He asked through gritted teeth.

Taeyong took a step back and looked down at my unconscious body.

“She doesn’t know that much about what’s going on so letting her go wouldn’t harm us in any way, but with Wayv after her, she’s not exactly safe anywhere but here.”

Jaehyun’s eyes, which had previously been glued to Taeyong were now gazing at the figure laying on the kitchen floor. After a few moments of silence, Jaehyun sighed.

“Put her in one of the spare bedrooms while we figure this all out,” He decided, hands rubbing at his temples.

“Yes sir.” Taeyong lifted my body off the ground in a less than graceful sweep.

“And send someone to get her some clothing. I won’t have her wearing any more of IU’s things.”

“Yes sir.”

196 notes · View notes

rainydaydream-gal18 · 4 years ago

Text

Steve Rogers x Reader: The Nutcracker (AU) Part 2

Log cabins came into view. Steve led you to a particularly large on. Despite being covered in snow, you could make out the word “inn” on the hanging sign out front. Steve opened the door and stepped aside so you could trudge in first.

Warmth surrounded you as you entered, and you almost wanted to cry. There was a cozy fire in a stone fireplace just as you had imagined. There were several vintage chairs with floral-patterned cloth perched around it. A woman from behind the counter approached.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, concern etched on her face. She was wearing an old brown dress with a tan apron - sort of like a maid- and had a bonnet over her red hair. Despite this garb, when you looked up at her face, you recognized her. She looked over at your traveling companion.

“What did you do, Steve?”

“Well, Nat, it’s a long story…” He sighed. “The Mouse King found me, and there wasn’t much I could do to leave her out of it. We were transported back to the Kingdom miles away from any shelter.”

“Who is she anyway?” Natasha, also known by many as Black Widow, asked. She knelt down to help remove your icy slippers.

“She lives in the Other Place.”

“Wow, I know you were on the run, but I didn’t think you’d go that far,” Natasha said. “Anyway,” she looked at you. “You don’t have to worry. You’re safe here.”

“Thank you,” you replied with a smile.

Natasha had a few other ladies who presumably worked at the inn run and fetch some dry clothes and some tea while she led you upstairs to a room where you could change. Before long, you were given a cozy nightgown and shawl and a new pair of slippers.

“Go ahead and make yourself comfortable by the fire,” Natasha told you. “Someone will be by with tea.”

“Thank you so much,” you replied. “Is there anything I can do? To pay you back?”

She cracked a smile. “Pay us back? Absolutely not. Anything for a friend of the rightful princ-”

Suddenly, Steven coughed quite loudly. You and Natasha looked at him, and he coughed again, but seemed to be giving Natasha a look. You had no idea what was going on, but you elected to ignore it.

You took a seat in one of the chairs near the fire. There were no other guests around, probably since it was so late. You were sort of glad to be able to enjoy the fire without weird stares. Another woman wearing the same uniform as Natasha came over with a cup of tea.

“Thank you,” you told her gratefully. Oh my cannoli, she looked like Shield Agent Maria Hill.

“No problem,” she replied.

The teacup was very charming with lovely flowers along the outside. It was the ultimate cozy scene, and you could even glance out the window and see the blizzard roaring outside in the dark.

Steve and Natasha were talking in hushed voices near the front counter. A small part of you was curious about all the secrecy, but you figured this was Natasha Romanoff. She wasn’t exactly Nick Fury, but you were sure her secrets have secrets. The other part of you didn’t care at all; you just wanted sleep. It had been quite a night. You set the cup of tea down beside the chair and curled up with your blanket and shawl.

“___________.”

Someone was talking to you… But ugh, you were so tired.

“____________, you have to get up.” It was Steve. You opened your eyes, blinking from the bright sunlight, and saw your nutcracker standing in front of you with one of his wooden hands on your shoulder.

Oh, so none of that craziness last night was a dream after all.

“What?” you yawned. “What’s going on?”

“The Mouse King and his minions are on their way. They’ll be here any minute. You and I need to hide.” He took your hand and helped you to your feet. “If he finds us here, we’ll be arrested on the spot. And trust me, we do not want to be arrested by this guy.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” You yawned again.

Natasha hurried over. “We’ve got a place for you to hide. If you’re quiet enough, they won’t find you.”

“Thanks, Nat. I’m sorry about this…”

“Shut your star-spangled mouth, Steve. We’ll always be here for you no matter what. Now, hurry up and hide.” She pulled back the boards on the one wall to reveal a compartment. It might be close quarters, but it would fit you and Steve.

“Ladies first,” Steve said.

“Ever the gentleman,” you joked, climbing in. You squeezed against the side as much as you could to make room for the nutcracker. He got in, and Natasha put the boards back in place, leaving you in darkness. “Well, this is cozy.”

Despite the tense situation, Steve chuckled. “Glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Oh yes, it’s always been my dream to be squished in a secret compartment fearing for my life.”

At that, Steve went quiet.

“Hey,” you nudged him, to no avail since he was made of wood. “It’s alright, really.”

“No, it’s not,” he said. “It seems wherever I go, I bring danger. It’s why I ran away from the kingdom in the first place. I went so far where I thought no one would find me. But somehow after meeting you I ended up back here again.”

“Oh, well, I’m sorry.” His comment sort of stung. It made you feel that you were the reason this happened. You were just minding your own business at your grandparents’ house until he stumbled in your life! “Why did you rescue me, then? If it was going to be a big problem?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, __________.”

“Well, it kind of sounded like it.”

Steve grew quiet again, and you wondered if the two of you would speak again for a while. This was quite a side of Captain America and his character…how troubled he was in his concern for others and how his actions affect them.

“I rescued you for a few reasons,” he spoke up. “One; because I couldn’t let the Mouse King hurt anyone. And two; there’s just something special about you.”

You wanted to laugh. “Me? Special?”

“Yes,” Steve looked at you. “Remember when your brother broke me? When he told you he’d replace me, you said that you don’t give up on people just because they’re broken? That was the most beautiful thing I’ve heard.”

Your cheeks grew warm. “You heard all that?”

Steve chuckled softly. “Yes.”

“All of it?”

“Yep. Apparently you think I’m hot?”

“Oh my gosh…I wish I was invisible right now.”

Just then, there was a sound of someone shushing you from the inn lobby. Most likely Natasha. How convenient for you.

“He’s here,” she said quietly.

The front door flew open violently, and chitauri let out screeches as they entered. The footsteps of the Mouse King were last to enter.

“Greetings,” he said. “Have any of you fine citizens seen a nutcracker and a woman come through here?”

“No,” Natasha replied calmly. “Nothing like that around here, unless you mean that nutcracker over on the shelf.”

There was as sly chuckle. “I suppose you think you’re very amusing. Well, unfortunately, I am not in the gaming mood. This is the town closest from where the nutcracker and girl were transported. They’d have to be quite unintelligent not to have come here.”

“Nutcrackers are made of wood. I’m sure he was lacking a brain,” Natasha shot back. “Because we haven’t seen anyone with that description. Right, Maria?”

“That’s right.”

It grew silent for a few, and then there was the sound of wood being broken. Glass shattered. Books fell off a shelf.

The chitauri were tearing the place apart, probably looking for you and Steve. You had to keep from crying out when a chitauri broke something near the secret compartment. Steve could probably tell because he put an arm around you. Fortunately, none of them found the compartment in the wall.

In fact, it wasn’t too long after the chitauri searched upstairs that they left. The Mouse King bid the ladies good day and left the place a wreck. Natasha opened up the boards so you and Steve could climb out shortly after.

“That was messed up.” You shook your head. “I’m sorry about the inn, Natasha.”

“It’s alright,” she commented with a smirk. “It was getting pretty boring around here anyway. I’m just glad The Mouse King didn’t recognize any of us.”

“Recognize you?” you repeated.

“Indeed,” a new voice joined the conversation. There he was. The big guy himself. Nick Fury. “Things would have gotten….interesting, to say the least.”

“Wait, what’s going on?” you asked. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

“___________, this is Fury,” Steve informed. “He is Captain of the elite force known as Shield. It’s his job, and all of these fine ladies and gentleman who you’ve seen around the inn, to guard the, uh Prince.”

“Since the Mouse King took over, we had to go into hiding. I became owner of this inn to help him go into hiding,” Fury explained, gesturing to Steve. “And we provide assistance to anyone who resists the Mouse King’s rule.”

“Wow, that’s just…wow. I’m officially amazed.”

Fury folded his arms, turning to the nutcracker. “So, your highne-”

“Steve.”

“Steve,” Fury echoed with a touch of sass. “What brings you back to the Royal Garden Inn?”

“Well, I had a run-in with the Mouse King. __________ here helped me, and the Mouse King shrunk her down from her normal size. I brought her here to find the Sugarplum Princess who will change her back, and maybe change me back from a nutcracker.”

“The Sugarplum Princess?” Fury echoed, raising a brow. To be completely honest, it was hilarious to hear Fury say that. “The Sugarplum Princess is said to be a myth,” he continued, so serious. You covered your mouth to stifle a laugh, and he looked at you with his one good eye. “Something funny?”

“No, Sir. Please continue.”

“Anyway, the Sugarplum Princess is a myth, but if she did exist, our records indicate she’d be on an island across the frozen lake. It’s quite a journey. Not to mention you are on the Mouse King’s ‘most wanted’ list.”

“I know, but what choice do I have?” Steve questioned. “__________ and I can’t stay like this forever. She belongs at home with her family. She can’t do that if she’s not even a foot tall in her world.”

“Understood.” Fury nodded. “We can give you some supplies, and I’ll send one of my best with you. Romanoff? You up for a mission to find some Sugarplum chick who may not exist?”

Natasha shrugged. “Sure thing.”

“Then it’s settled. Hill, make the preparations.”

Maria nodded and hurried away.

PART 3

#avengers #avengers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x reader #captain america #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #avengers imagine #captain america imagine #the avengers

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not-a-christmas-tree · 5 years ago

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i watched the dallas theater company les mis and here are my observations part TWO

i recently watched a modern adaptation of les mis from 2014! i took hella notes bc les mis being set in modern day has a LOT MORE than you would think! i just posted my act one notes, so here are the ones from act two. enjoy! :D

ACT TWO

(Building The Barricade)

oh javert,,,you and your red beret-scarf combo

everyone shakes hands the same way?? they all like. half bro hug. young people ig 🤷‍♀️

oh on my own is gonna hurt me huh

éponine has her hands up when she goes to take the letter to cosette that’s an interesting take

jvj looks so done lmao “really bruh just give me the letter i’ll give it to cosette it’s FINE”

omg first time i’ve ever seen éponine not take the money after the letter!! that actually makes so much sense bc she doesn’t take marius’ money when he asks her to find cosette’s house either. that,,,yes that’s good

the modern era begs the question... why didn’t marius just ask for cosette’s number?? i’d assume it’s just a thing that jvj doesn’t allow her to have a phone bc The Cops, but. maybe marius and cosette are the straight version of cottagecore lesbians they just write letters for ~The Aesthetic~

(On My Own)

i was right on my own was gonna hurt me

first time i’ve ever seen an éponine disguise where she actually passes as a boy lmao

FINALLY A VERSION OF OMO WHERE ITS NOT JUST FORLORN SELF-CARESSING THANK YOU

surprisingly i have less notes here that’s fun i thought i’d have more

(Javert at the Barricades)

WOAHHHHH THEY DID NOT SKIMP ON BARRICADE SET PIECES THAT SHIT IS COOOOOL

oh the barricade scenes are already hitting too hard

cops are in riot gear cops. are in. riot gear.

oh the javert spy thing that also hits funny because obviously

gavroche is armed with a bat i love you son

FULL VERSION OF LITTLE PEOPLE AT THE BARRICADE AYEEEEE

(A Little Fall Of Rain)

wait hold on why is marius not,,,singing to éponine on “why have you come back here?” he’s like. scolding someone,,, huh??

oh enj goes to help marius with ép!! and he calls over who i assume would be joly i STAN

MARIUS CRIES AFTER ÉP DIES KILL MEEEE

(The First Attack)

i like how jvj does the second confrontation here. he looks less angry and more like,,,compassionate and that MAKES SENSE bc yk. he’s telling javert he’s wrong but he’s not doing it out of spite he’s doing it bc this guy NEEDS to know what he does as a cop and realize that being a cop isn’t just enforcing rules, and it never was just that.

i do love the exasperated “gO” from jvj that’s kinda great ngl

(Drink With Me)

i’m very sad that there won’t be any exr from these boys

v e r y sad here

i do see grantaire looking PRETTY sad though

bold of y’all to assume that the modern day amis would all be straight

okay i can tell that grantaire really is going hard on the Existential Singing like,,,sure he’s just standing there but like. damn bro

SO THERE A R E LADIES ON THE BARRICADE WHY TF ARENT THEY FIGHTING

BETTER SEE SOME CHANGE THERE

i just realized that the cockades are buttons that is the BEST

(Bring Him Home)

jvj actually looks kinda happy in BHH and tbh i kinda like it?? it’s only on the “he’s like the son i might have known” line but i like it

oh those vowels oh boy they TALL

(The Final Battle)

enjolras is for some reason, still angry...why...why bro....

the staging for gavroche’s death is INTERESTING bc he’s reaching up at the sniper on the tower. hm. i dont hate it

OH SOMEONE ON THE BARRICADE IS RECORDING I THINK!!! GOOD ADDITION!!

i can’t imagine how many blood packs they went through

oh enjolras’s death okay so. he’s in a like. No Man’s Land almost, and the riot cops come in after him. it’s an interesting take because it almost mirrors the scene in the book, except obvs grantaire isn’t here. they also have an added scene after he dies where cops are checking out and using radios that is. that is EERIE.

jvj walks over to enjolras’s body 🥺

HE ALSO FUCKIN S C R E A M S WHEN HE SEES MARIUS ON THE GROUND GODDAMN MAN O U C H

thenardier steals combeferre’s glasses wow thanks for that added pain

thenardier and jvj have a mini fight oh that’s kinda cool hm

(Javert’s Soliliquy)

javert opens his soliloquy with some SPICY SADNESS OH B O Y he sounds broken already!! start strong!!

emotions go broken - anger - confusion? - mAJOR confusion - hopelessness

javert can FLY! no legit he’s on ropes

(Turning)

turning is. turning is almost a funeral.

OH THEYRE N U N S !

nuns are visiting the barricade 🥺

OH DAMN “what’s the use of praying if there’s nobody who hears?” THAT CERTAINLY HAS WEIGHT NOW THAT THEY ARE N U N S

it has just occurred to me that people have been dead on the floor for like. a solid five minutes

(Empty Chairs At Empty Tables)

“now my friends. are dead. and gone” he pauses like he’s realizing it just then oh OUCHIE

wait is marius,,,at the barricades? is he legit singing to his friends dead bodies? oh shit oh NO

OH N O OH NONONO THIS IS WORSE

THE BARRICADE BOYS RISE UP FROM THE FLOOR OH N O OUCH OUCH

they group up and salute him and wALK OFF NO OWWWW

*cosette and marius kiss* jvj: *COUGH COUGH*

marius and valjean’s lil conversation is interesting in the way valjean seems to ask marius “who am i?” rather than ask himself. he phrases it in a way that makes me think he’s like. quizzing marius lmao

(The Wedding)

omg i think baby cosette and éponine are flower girls 🥺🥺

“go away thenardier” *madame mouths ‘dammit!’*

thenardier your boat shoes hurt me

madame: “get up! get up!” thenardier: “stop—STOP IT!”

TWO GUYS ARE DANCING TOGETHER AND WAVE AT THENARDIER ON “this ones a queer, but what can you do”

yeah i think i found my new favorite thenardiers thank you dallas theater company

fantine sits on the bench when cosette comes by, cosette sits on bench next to her, and fantine tries to touch her but can’t 🥺

jvj just gave a hand-over-heart head nod to cosette but fantine gave it back i,,,ouch

ENJOLRAS AND GAVROCHE ARE WITH FANTINE AND ÉPONINE FOR JVJ’S DEATH

the chain gang is in the epilogue i repeat the cHAIN GANG IS IN THE EPILOGUE

the orchestra rests on the last “say do you hear the distant drums” and that was the coolest thing i’ve ever heard

that final harmony is MONEYYYY and i want to cry

OVERALL NOTES:

this javert has the most interesting interpretation because up until his FINAL SCENE he is the stone cold police officer, and he plays it SO WELL. like i have never been truly angry at a javert up until this guy, and whether that was because it was modern and resonates A LOT in 2020 or he just looks like a cop i want to punch, I DON’T KNOW but he plays it SO WELL and i love it so much!!

these thenardiers are the fucking BEST NGL they are the perfect mix of funny and cruel. madame t is also funny as HELL and i wish i had her talent lmao

i said it before but the police costumes in this show are. woosh. kudos to the costumer i took one look at those guys and was like “haha, no!.” vaguely related to that, i think this was the first time i nearly cried at Look Down like. the first song at the show, simply because of the convict getting the SHIT beat out of him on the floor. that hurt me and i hate that it is completely accurate to what happens in prisons today.

lovely ladies was,,,a LOT and tbh, i feel like it didn’t need to be. obviously it does show how horrible it is for sex workers, but that is why the music is there. the music and lyrics is there to tell what you don’t show visually. (though i do love the male prostitute lmao he took no shit)

i also said this before but the fact that there wasn’t bigger of a relationship between enjolras and grantaire kind of annoys me simply because they are revolutionaries in the present day. you can’t tell me that ALL OF THEM WERE STRAIGHT. with how many people i know now that identify under the queer and trans umbrella, and also how queer they are (to me) in the brick, the absence of any exr in a modern interpretation hurts a little.

in conclusion, this show was fucking FANTASTIC and even though i’m six years late, it still resonates hard given the time we live in today. i think i nearly screamed when i saw the cops in riot gear on the barricade because that is LITERALLY HAPPENING RIGHT NOW. this just reminds me how timeless the story of les mis is because you had to change LITERALLY NOTHING from the story to make it make sense in the modern age, and that is really the lesson you should learn from les mis; these things happen everywhere, and they need to be fixed.

thank you for listening to my rambling, i am sure i forgot something because there was just so damn much but i hope you enjoyed otherwise! not-a christmas-tree out! :)

#les mis #les miserables #les amis #les amis de l'abc #dallas theater company #jean valjean #javert #fantine #cosette #marius #enjolras #grantaire

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

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Sweet On My Lips (Crygi) - Mumu

A/N: This is my first fic! I usually write poetry, so this is quite a change. Hope you enjoy :) You can also read it on AO3!

Summary: Gigi’s a barista and Crystal stumbles into her cafe. Softness ensues.

It’s nearly four in the afternoon when Crystal Methyd stumbles into the cafe with a book bag under her arm. She needs a sugar high. Immediately.

She wanted to go to a Starbucks, but a few wrong turns on the way back from the new tattoo studio she was an apprentice at, and she was suddenly twenty minutes away from the nearest one. She ended up having to settle for a local cafe to satisfy her sweet tooth. How is that even possible? Starbucks is supposed to have a store on every street. That’s, like, the law.

Add that to the fact that LA summers felt like Satan himself was preemptively boiling everybody alive to lessen his workload once they made it down to hell, and you got one very pissed off Crystal.

“Hi! Can I get, uh, a-” Crystal starts, approaching the counter. She squints at the menu, trying to decide from the creative names which drink has the most cream and sugar. Her mouth tastes filmy and gross from dehydration, not at all helping her concentrate on scanning the drink names.

Tiramisu mocha? White chocolate raspberry frappe? Maybe the frappes are sweeter, given that they’re usually topped with whipped cream and all. She traps her bottom lip between her teeth, thinking. It’s too hot out to order a hot chocolate. Maybe she could ask to get it iced, though? Is that a thing?

She honestly should have just walked the twenty minutes to Starbucks; at least she knows for sure that they’re okay with modifications.

She realizes she’s been quiet for a few seconds too long when the barista speaks.

“Take your time! There’s not much business this time of day anyways.”

“Thanks,” Crystal drags her gaze away from the menu and up to glance at said barista. Her breath catches as soon as she does. The first thing she notices is curly red hair, pulled into a shiny ponytail. It looks soft, and she wants to touch it.

Crystal’s pretty sure this barista is the first redhead she’s met (apart from that one time she decided to dye her hair red in eighth grade, of course, but she doubts that counts.)

She’d only done it to piss off her English teacher after he’d gone on a rant and said that unnatural hair colors were an abomination of god or whatever. It didn’t come out to be a pretty shade like this girl’s. More… Clifford the big red dog. But ultimately, three months of picking out clothes to match her hair and drenching her damaged split ends in coconut oil were worth it, if only to see Mr. Rhodes splutter every time she came into his classroom.

A thump from the cafe dishwasher brings her back to the moment, and she startles slightly.

“D’you want some help choosing?” The barista asks helpfully.

She doesn’t trust herself to speak without stammering out something embarrassing, so Crystal just nods instead.

“Great!” The redhead says, smiling. Her nose scrunches as she does so, and Crystal notices the coral-colored blush placed there for the first time. It gives the girl a sunburnt look. It’s cute. She’s cute.

“I love guessing people’s coffee orders. It’s like, coffee shop tarot reading or whatever,” The girl says.

“Aren’t tarot readings for the future though?” Crystal gets out, finding her voice again. Her eyes drop to the barista’s name tag- Gigi. It’s nice to put a name to the pretty face. “So this would be more like a BuzzFeed personality quiz or something.”

“Whatever, I don’t know.” Gigi waves the question away, shrugging. Her smile is warm, and it makes Crystal feel kind of melty inside. “You’re probably right.”

“Do you do it often?” Crystal ventures.

Gigi gets a bit flustered, twirling a piece of hair around her finger. Crystal wishes she could be the one playing with Gigi’s hair. Is that creepy? Definitely creepy.

Gigi considers how to word her answer. Okay, don’t tell her you analyze everyone that comes in here like some sort of serial killer.

“Mostly just in my head? It keeps me entertained.” Or do. Great.

“Cool! Do you want me to answer questions or something? I can do that.” Crystal offers.

“No, that’s cheating. Just, like, stand there for a sec, yeah?”

Crystal obeys, feeling a bit silly. Gigi narrows her eyes, studying her.

“You’re wearing bright colors and mixing prints… that tells me you’re fun and like, a child at heart and stuff.” And you’re really pretty, Gigi wants to add. Really, really pretty, because nobody else I’ve ever met could get away with mixing prints. Not even Nicky, and that girl is a runway model.

“Uh, thanks, I think!” Crystal shuffles a bit. She hopes that being “a child at heart” a good thing in Gigi’s book. She wants Gigi to like her. The realization almost makes her snort in irony. Of course. I’m head over heels for a pretty girl I just met five minutes ago who’s probably not even gay. How very cliche lesbian of me.

Crystal makes a mental note to never, ever tell her group chat about this. (Meaning, the group chat is the first place she’ll go to talk about this after she leaves in around five minutes.) Jaida will probably never let her live it down. On the bright side, it would probably give her a break from constantly having to relive the Mailbox Incident of Summer 2017. She nearly shudders just thinking about it.

“Oh! And cute earrings! Where’d you get those?” Gigi asked, bringing Crystal out of her thoughts.

“Thank you, I made them!” Crystal says, and only allows herself to grin like an idiot for five seconds.

“No way, that’s incredible,” Gigi marvels. “Do you sell them or anything?”

“Yeah, mostly just to friends, though. Once a month I go to an art fair and that’s when I sell the most stuff.” Crystal says. She hesitates for a moment, before throwing in a, “but then again, lesbians will buy anything if you stick a needle on and call them earrings, so.”

“That’s cool,” Gigi says. “And amen to that. I just bought a pair of bottle cap earrings? I have no idea when I’m ever going to wear them.”

“Thanks! Those sound cute, I bet you’d look pretty in them.” Crystal feels like a broken record at this point, just repeating the same few phrases. The praise has her feeling a bit shy, and she can’t help but get a little self-conscious. She fiddles with the hem of her denim jacket to keep herself busy.

Gigi doesn’t seem to notice, still very much focused on analyzing her appearance. “Freckles, cute! Are they natural?”

“Oh, uh, yeah!” Crystal brings a hand up to tap her nose. “I used to hate them.”

“What, no, they’re adorable! I’ve always wanted them. I would, like, dot them on with mascara in third grade.”

Crystal giggles. “That’s so cute.”

She flounders for a second, trying to come up with something to say as Gigi goes back to staring at her. “Uh, I like your hair! I dyed my hair red in eighth grade, but it didn’t look natural or anything.”

“Aw, thank you. Yeah, red hair is really hard to get right apparently.” Gigi nibbles on her bottom lip, thinking. “Okay, I think I’ve got it!”

“What’s the verdict?” Crystal asks excitedly, all previous discomfort forgotten.

The redhead pauses, steepling her hands and drumming her fingertips together. She lets the silence sit for a few seconds to build anticipation, though this time it’s decidedly less awkward, both girls having warmed up to each other.

There’s a pause before she announces her decision. “I think… you seem like a diabetes in a cup kinda girl.”

Wow. Okay, how the hell did Gigi do that? Is Crystal that easy to read or something?

Actually, yeah, it makes sense that she’d get it right. Crystal thinks, answering her own question. I dress like something out of a five-year-old’s wildest dreams. Still, pretty impressive.

An indignant part of her wants to insist that she can handle bitterness, thank you so much, but Crystal’s never been a great liar, and something tells her this girl wouldn’t buy it either.

“Is that… a good thing?” Crystal says, a dumb grin spreading on her face. Get it together, Crystal.

“What? Girl, in what world is diabetes a good thing?” Gigi cackles. “It’s horrible. I get an iced black coffee, for reference.”

“Ew,” Crystal blurts without thinking. Shit, I said that out loud. She immediately flushes and tries to take it back. “Or, no, I mean, not ew, but-”

“No no, it’s okay! I know some people just aren’t mature enough for Big Girl coffee,” Gigi mocks. Crystal would usually be offended, but judging from the way Gigi’s blue eyes are sparkling with mirth, she knows the girl’s just joking.

She still makes a sort of offended squeak, pouting. “I just like the way sweet stuff tastes!”

“Okay, okay!” Gigi holds her hands up in surrender, barely concealing a grin. “Don’t pout, you’re too cute to pout.”

The squeak that escapes Crystal is real this time. Gigi called her cute? Is she flirting or just being nice? I’m probably delusional. Right?

There’s a moment where neither girl speaks. It hangs in the air with the smell of vanilla and cinnamon, mixing until Crystal’s half sure the entire cafe’s suddenly been turned into some sort of fairy-tale confection. She’s afraid to move, like the space around her will crackle and shatter if she does. It’s quiet, safe for the background of the coffee grinder going steadily and some gentle R&B flowing out of the sound system.

It’s a comfortable sort of silence. Crystal likes it, feels safe in the cocoon-like ambience. She wonders why she’s never come to this cafe before. Maybe it’s time to break her Starbucks addiction, explore a bit more.

Gigi clears her throat.

“So, how does a double chocolate cookie dough frappe with Nutella drizzle sound?” Gigi asks, finger already poised above the cash register screen.

Perfect.

Okay no, she can’t say that. Crystal clears her throat, trying to come up with a response that’s not as corny. She eyes the wall opposite the counter, where the menu is, then Gigi, confused.

“Wait, I don’t see it on the menu?” She scans the menu again, trying to find Gigi’s recommendation. Did she miss it? Her coffee budget is $3, what with rent due at the end of this week. Hopefully, Gigi’s recommendation isn’t over that limit.

“Oh! Yeah, um, I kinda just made it up right now.” Gigi flushes, sounding a bit flustered. She rushes to explain. “My boss is, like, super cool though! She lets me experiment and stuff. And I can just ring you up for a hot chocolate and it’ll be our little secret.”

In truth, this is Gigi’s first time making anything off-menu, so she isn’t sure what her boss Widow’s policy on the practice is. But she has this inexplicable urge to want to impress this girl. Gigi wants her to love the drink she orders.

I mean, it can’t go that bad, right? She reasons. Worst case scenario Widow takes it out of my tips or something. But Widow’s nice. She probably won’t do that.

“Well, in that case,” Crystal starts, and then changes her mind. “Actually, what did you say you usually ordered? Black coffee? I’ll take that.”

A shocked noise escapes Gigi. “I get an iced black coffee. You sure you want that?”

“Yeah yeah yeah! I can handle it, you’ll see,” Crystal hears herself say. This is an astronomically bad idea, she knows, but then again, she’s never been one to turn down a challenge. She wants to impress Gigi, and what with her teasing earlier, she honestly feels like she has something to prove.

“Okay, your funeral,” Gigi relents, raising an eyebrow. “That’ll be $2.49, then.”

Crystal hands her card over, watching Gigi go through the motions of scanning it, handing it back to her, and tearing off the receipt.

“You want the receipt?” Gigi asks.

“Nah, I trust you,” Crystal winks at the other girl, surprising even herself with her boldness.

Crystal thinks she sees Gigi redden, though that could just be a combination of her makeup and a trick of the light. Something tells her that the redhead is fond of blush, what with the way the coral powder has been taken across the bridge of Gigi’s nose and on her cheekbones.

“Okay!” Gigi flashes her a smile and grabs a cup and sharpie. Two can play this game. “Can I get a name for the order, babes?”

“Um, it’s- it’s Crystal.” Crystal blinks, trying to figure out whether she heard that right. Whatever boldness possessed her to wink at the pretty girl in front of her fled the moment that pet name passed Gigi’s lips.

“Well, nice to meet you then, It’s It’s Crystal,” Gigi says with a smirk. “One iced black coffee coming right up! Why don’t you take a seat and I’ll bring it to you when it’s done.”

Crystal plops down at the nearest table, watching Gigi work. Now that she has an excuse to just quietly observe, Crystal takes in Gigi’s full appearance. Her red hair is glossy and shiny under the sunlight that streams through the cafe’s windows, and she moves with expert ease through the space behind the counter. Her apron is checkered red and white. It’s tied in a bow at the back—a bow that’s lopsided, sagging slightly to the left, Crystal notes with a smile.

The girl is gorgeous, there’s no doubt about it. If Crystal met her on the street she definitely would have mistaken her for a model. And she was nice, too.

Nobody ever noticed her freckles or complimented her on her earrings the first time they met her. Most people thought her style of dress was weird, and Crystal figures that’s fair enough. Just the other day she wore a magenta jumpsuit with matching bunny ears. Anyone in their right mind would be a little taken aback at her fashion (as Jaida put it, her aesthetic is best described as “thrift store on acid.” Not exactly everyone’s cup of tea.) But Gigi got her right away, and a little part of Crystal wants to take that as a sign. Okay, maybe a large part.

Just as Crystal’s about to get lost in her daydreams again, Gigi bustles over with two cups, one in each hand.

“I made you a cookie dough frappe just in case,” She says, setting both cups on the table. “It’s on the house.”

Crystal exhales a light laugh. “You didn’t have to.”

“Oh,” Gigi says. She shifts her weight onto the other foot, suddenly shy, and gestures lamely towards the two drinks. “I wanted to. Just in case, like, the black coffee was too bitter. Sorry. You don’t have to drink it, uh, if you don’t want to.”

She offers an awkward smile. “I won’t force you.”

“Oh! Uh, no!” Crystal says, a little louder than necessary in her haste to reassure the other girl. Gigi jumps, and Crystal grabs her hand out of impulse. The movement jerks Gigi closer to her. “I mean, thanks. You don’t have to apologize. It’s really sweet of you to think of that.”

Gigi blushes, and Crystal’s suddenly acutely aware of the fact that she’s holding the girl’s hand.

And the fact that they’re the only people in this cafe. And the fact that when Crystal grabbed Gigi’s hand, it sent her stumbling a step closer, so now she’s pressed right against Crystal’s leg.

Gigi is very, very close to her all of a sudden, and her hair is really pretty, especially with the sunlight backlighting the frizz into a golden halo. She looks like an angel, and her eyes are hypnotizing.

Crystal wants to kiss her.

“Okay,” Gigi whispers, and licks her lips. It dawns on Crystal that she said that last part out loud. Fuck.

But Crystal can’t think, can’t panic, because Gigi’s so close and she smells like chocolate cake when it’s freshly out of the oven and still gooey in the center, just the way her abuelita makes it, and she’s warm and everything Crystal has ever imagined or wanted. Everything molecule in Crystal is telling her to crash into Gigi, and she decides to just go along with her instincts, because when a pretty girl is that close to her there’s no way Crystal can think logically.

“O-kay,” Crystal whispers back, stretching out the word, and then Gigi’s lips are on hers and they’re soft.

God, they’re soft. Gotta ask for her lip balm brand, Crystal thinks, because that’s a perfectly normal thing to ask someone you’re kissing, and then Gigi’s shifting positions and sliding into her lap to kiss her more comfortably and she’s lost the ability to think again.

All she can do is feel, feel the way Gigi’s hand snakes around her waist, the way Gigi’s eyelashes are fluttering against her nose bridge, the way Gigi’s hair is smooth as she tangles a hand in it, the way her heart feels like it’s soaring and exploding all at once and each one of her veins seems to be pumped full of fizzy champagne all of a sudden. All she can feel is Gigi, and she thinks she likes that.

As they part, Crystal accidentally bumps her nose against Gigi’s. She pulls away, wincing, and meets Gigi’s eyes for one very still moment. They peer at each other in wonder, as if discovering each other for the first time, and then Gigi’s lips quirk and she’s giggling. Before long, Crystal’s joining in too, and both lose it, still riding high off the adrenaline of the kiss.

After they’ve both calmed down, Crystal motions to the drinks on the table. “Wanna share?”

Gigi smiles softly at her. “Yeah, sure.”

Crystal grabs the black coffee and takes a small, tentative sip. She immediately chokes, breaking into a coughing fit. Gigi pounds her back, hard, then races behind the counter and pours her a small cup of water. After Crystal’s done hacking her guts out, she accepts it gratefully, trying to catch her breath.

“That,” She pants, “Is fucking disgusting.”

Gigi lets out a full-bellied laugh. It’s the prettiest thing Crystal’s ever heard, she thinks, which is saying a lot because she’s been to at least one show for all four of the One Direction tours. ‘“What a feeling” harmonies can’t even come close to the magic of Gigi’s laugh. Crystal wants to hear it over and over.

“I tried to warn you,” Gigi says with a snort, then covers her mouth, eyes wide and mortified, clearly shocked at the sound she produced. The comical expression sends Crystal straight into another bout of laughter, and before long they’re both losing it again.

Sometime later in the afternoon, somehow, Gigi ends up in Crystal’s lap again. Crystal’s lost track of time, but she doesn’t mind. She wants to kiss Gigi again, and again, and again. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of looking at her, kissing the sweet almond balm off her lips, touching her. Crystal wants to be in her presence forever. Gigi’s tongue pokes out of the left side of her mouth as she gazes down at Crystal, lazily tracing the smattering of freckles across her nose, forehead, and cheekbones with her peach nails.

“I wanna kiss every one of them,” Gigi whispers.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Then: “They’re cute.”

Crystal’s pretty sure if she wasn’t already giving heart eyes to Gigi, they are most certainly happening now. “You’re cute.”

“Can I? Kiss them.”

“There’s a lot of them,” Crystal says. It’s breathy, a challenge and a plea at the same time.

Gigi smiles, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind Crystal’s ear. “We have time.”

And they do, so Crystal lets Gigi kiss her until the drinks beside them are both completely melted and the whipped cream in Crystal’s has gone all weepy and deflated. Gigi insists on making her a new one, and on entering her number into Crystal’s phone before she leaves.

Crystal goes home and dreams of her.

#rpdr fanfiction #crystal methyd #gigi goode #crygi #fluff #lesbian au #coffee shop au #sweet on my lips #mumu #concrit welcome

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rickandmortygetschwifty · 5 years ago

Note

So as a prompt if you’re up for it: Rick fucking Morty while Beth is on the phone to him after she called him. Or he accidentally calls her and she’s on the other end of the phone listening to them fuck. :) 😂

Ooooh thank you for the wonderful prompt, Ghosty! I took a few liberties with it. I hope you don't mind the unusual format XD enjoy!

Rest of ficlet under the cut:

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You have one (1) new voicemail message. Press one to play.

-Beeeeeep-

Rick: (whispering) ... so keep it quiet, Morty, o-o-or else you can bet your ass that there won't be a repeat of this tomorrow. I doOOUUn't even know why Beth even wants me to talk— t-to call her.

Morty: (groaning)

Rick: (whispering) Making calls. Psh. I-I-It's a relic of a bygone era, if you ask me. Why would anyone want to call when texting is so much easier? I-it eliminates all the need for excruciatingly dull social interactions, l-l-like, I don't know, calling? W-why would she even want to—

Morty: M-m-maybe she just wants to check that y-you're not exposing me to any bad influences? Y'know, like being a good mother for once?

[Sounds suspiciously like pillows being shoved over a teenager's face]

Rick: What did I just tell you? Quiet!

Morty: (unintelligible)

Rick: What?

Morty: (muffled voice) My phone. I-I-It's recording us. Say something.

[Rustling noises]

Rick: Wait. Recording—?

Morty: Y-you called mom right? It went straight to voicemail?

Rick: Oh, fuuuuck— uh... hi, sweetie! It's your dad. I'm just calling to tell you about tonight.

Morty: It's me a-and Rick! He— he wants to say we can't go to dinner. Yeah.

Rick: We can't make it.

Morty: Y-y-yep. We can't. Because of... uh...

Rick: ... reasons. Our adventure's gonna run a—UUUURP— a bit late, so we might not be back until after. Don't worry, we'll be home before midnight.

Morty: A-and I've done all my homework!

Rick: Morty's finished with his homework. So just go ahead and... and have dinner without us. Don't worry, we, uh, Morty's got enough to eat over here.

Morty: (snickers)

Rick: Y-y-you and your preteen humor. Grow up, Morty.

Morty: Fuck off, Rick. Give me that.

[Rustling noises]

Rick: That's enough, we can hang up—

Morty: Hey mom, everything's okay. Rick isn't being a dick to me. Yet.

Rick: M-m-morty let me handle —

Morty: You know what, scratch that. He's —he's a— he's being a complete asshole, but nothing to worry about, I'm safe!

Rick: Morty!

[Grunts and growls emanating from one irritated old man and one annoyed adolescent]

Morty: W-w-wait, I still have something to say!

Rick: God, Morty, give it to me. She's heard everything she needs—

[Grunting]

[Loud clatter]

Morty: Ooh geez, that was my phone!

Rick: Now y-you've done it, Morty. I-I told you your clumsy ass has to sit still while I was talking! Fuuuu— here. Take your useless phone back and keep it. I'll just use mine to—UUURP— give Beth the stupid call she wants.

Morty: (mumbling) I bought this with my allowance...

Rick: For fuck's sake— Morty, I-I-I can fix your phone in ten seconds! But you know what's worse? Now I haOOOUUGHve to go back to the ship to get my phone. Thanks for wasting the precious two minutes I have to spend portalling to the ship when I could've used them on something more productive. Like, maybe, helping you finish? Good luck with that.

Morty: W-w-wait, what?

Rick: Y-you heard me, Morty. Have fun jerking off y-your— your tiny little sad sausage all alone.

Morty: What the fu— wait!

[Rustling noises]

Morty: Wait, Rick! Rick!!

Rick: What?

Morty: D-don't leave me like this! I don't want to get blue-balled. Not after last time!

Rick: Too bad. My phone—

Morty: I'll help you. I-I-I'll— I'll take responsibility for it. If mom asks, I-I'm the one who wanted to stay late. I'll cover for you.

[Silence]

Morty: Just don't leave. Please. Rick, I can't...

[Short silence]

Rick: Fine. I'll do it. But just because you loOOOUUk damn pitiful right now. God. Have some dignity, Morty.

Morty: Yes! Thanks, Ri— HOOOOOOH what are you doing?!?

Rick: Y-y-you didn't think I'm going to go back to jerking you off, did you Morty? I expect some repayment for fixing that sorry excuse of a phone for you.

Morty: What? But I'll— I'm already covering for you! You said you'd help me get off! How is a finger up my butt going to— mmmffff!!!

[Wet smacking sounds]

Morty: Mmmmm—

[Sounds of wrapper crinkling, followed by a mechanical whirring noise]

Rick: Y-you really talk too much.

Morty: Wait— oooooh geez—

[Whirring noises resume, but strangely muted]

Rick: Better?

Morty: (groaning)

Rick: I bought this off the Rick in dimension F9. He's a-a... a real kinky bastard. You won't believe what he's got dooOOOUUUwn in his garage, Morty. I-I-I wouldn't even touch half of what was in there. This is one of his tamer ones. How's the vibration? Do you want it stronger? Do you need me to reconfigure the shape?

Morty: (unintelligible groaning)

Rick: Wow. You really are a bitch, Morty. But you're MY bitch.

Morty: Hoooo... fuck...

Rick: Clench up more tightly, M-morty, it's coated in a powder that's supposed to dull any painful sensations. Trust me, y-you're going to need it later.

Morty: P-pain?

Rick: Y-y-you really want me sticking my cock up your virgin asshole without any prepping? Your call.

Morty: (hoarse voice) Who said anything about—

Rick: You. Didn't y-y-you say you wanted to fuck?

Morty: W-w-well, I, uh...

Rick: Y-y-you meant the other way around, didn't you? A-a-and what made you think I was going to let your unexperienced dick anywhere near my UUURP poor ass? Don't you think you need some lessons from the master first?

Morty: But...

Rick: I'm already done stretching you out. Just shut up and lie still.

[Whirring noises cease]

[Short silence]

Rick: (staggered grunting)

Morty: Ooh— Oh my god—

Rick: Oh, God. You're tight, Morty. Fuck—

[Creaking noise]

Morty: Nnnghh—

Rick: Oh yeah. Just like that, baby.

Morty: Y-you're fucking huge!

Rick: Thanks.

Morty: Th-th-that wasn't a compliment you—

[Creaking noises resume]

Morty: Hooooh geez! Ohhh— Oh my god!

Rick: (laughs)

[Creaking noises quicken]

Rick: Ya like that, bitch?

Morty: (moaning)

Rick: I'm not hearing anything.

Morty: (moaning) Ugh... yes, fuck yes, Rick! Faste— OH GEEZ!

Rick: What is it this time?

Morty: Do that again, FUCK—

Rick: Wow. Y-you like it that way, huh?

[Rustling followed by more creaking noises]

Rick: Better?

Morty: (moaning)

Rick: Geez, you're easy to please.

[Harsh slapping sound]

Morty: Hooooohh...

Rick: Knew you'd like that, M-morty, you kinky son of a bitch. Y-y-you know, I should introduce you to F9 Rick sometime. YoOOUU might get along with him and we can get a discount when we buy those toys of his. Ever— ever heard of a gimp mask, Morty?

Morty: (groaning) Piss off.

Rick: Aww, baby, don't be like that. After everything I've done for— wait. What was that?

[Short silence]

Morty: I-It's just my phone, Rick. Bet I just got a new text or something. Can we go back to what we were doing now?

Rick: Morty, y-y-you complete imbecile! I thought you dropped it? That means your phone's not broken!

Morty: Huh. But the screen's all black? What's wrong with it then? I'll just—

Rick: NO! MORTY, DON'T PRESS ANYTHI—

-Beeeeeep-

End message. To replay, press 1.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ask box still open for prompts! Send 'em in folks ;D

#rickmorty #c-137cest #rickorty #rick x morty #es answers #my writing #whoop this marks my official comeback to the fandom #yeah baby #sorry im slow as snails getting to the prompts #i haven't forgotten dw!!#oof dont you love it when tumblr messes up the format

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lovely-van · 5 years ago

Text

beige - van mccann

You know you're beautiful But that ain't half the gold treasure in your soul that you got 'Cause I want it all With your fingers in my mouth, I fail to see your faults So please don't let me fall So please don't let me fall...

- Beige by Yoke Lore

word count: 12k+ (yes i know but i’m not sorry)

notes: oh my god okay i love this story so much. based on a request where you and van are friends that fall in love but both don’t think the other feels the same way. not based technically on the song beige by yoke lore but i really love the song and it’s very cute and the meaning behind it is fucking amazing (definitely look it up on genius.com). anyway i really hope you like it and lmk what you think! enjoy :))

• • •

You met Van when you were nine.

Of course, back then, he still went by Ryan.

He was kicking a football around in his front lawn, right across the street from your own house. You were on the sidewalk in front of your house, scribbling designs on the concrete with chalk when you noticed him.

You’d only moved in a few weeks earlier and hadn’t realized that you had a neighbor your own age. You giggled as he nearly tripped over the ball, trying to do some fancy trick. He huffed, trying to do the trick again and failing. “You’re not very good at that, y’know.”

His head shot up at the sound of your voice, looking around in confusion. His eyes locked on you and he shrugged. “I’m trying to learn!” he shouted from across the street.

You stood up, wiping some chalk dust from your overalls and skipped across the street. “Here, it’s not that hard. I’ll help you.” He watched, his young face concentrated, as you showed him how to bounce the ball back and forth on your knees.

After a few minutes of trying it himself, he did it successfully. A grin spread across his face, cheeks flushed and dimples showing. “Wow, thanks,” he said. “My name’s Ryan. What’s yours?”

That was how it all started.

You and Van soon became best friends. You spent everyday together, exploring your neighborhood, climbing trees, coming up with all kinds of games that stretched every part of your imagination. He attended a different school, public versus your private school that your mother insisted you go to. But you didn’t mind because as soon as he got home, he’d come running to your front door and knock on it, waiting there with the same cheesy grin every time.

You made other friends throughout the years, some girls from school and he had friends from his own class but you were always each other’s closest friends. In the summer, you’d grab sleeping bags and flashlights and lay under the stars in his backyard. You’d talk for hours about what you wanted to be when you were older, how you couldn’t wait until you were big enough to drive a car or have your own house.

•

You were eleven when you realized how special Van was.

It was a sunny afternoon on a Saturday and you and Van were climbing trees in his backyard. It was late autumn, so the air was crisp and all the leaves had fully changed colors, ready to shrivel up and float down to the grass below at any moment.

“Alright, just grab that branch right there,” he said, pointing to a tree branch a few inches above you. He was already much higher than you and guiding you to get to where he was. You dug your feet into the branch you were standing on to make sure it was sturdy, and you reached up, fingers just grasping the bark-

And then you were falling, falling and before you could even comprehend it, you hit the ground. You landed directly on your right leg and you screamed, the pain overwhelming you immediately.

Van flew down the tree, jumping the last few feet. “Oh my God, are you okay?”

You shook your head quickly, biting your lip as hard as you could to try and hold back the tears that were stinging your eyes.

“Okay, don’t worry I’m gonna go get someone. It’s gonna be okay,” he said quickly, rubbing your back and then sprinting toward his house.

Turns out you’d broken your leg in two places. You had to wear a cast for at least six weeks and you were extremely bummed that you couldn’t play the rest of your fall football season. You and Van were even on the same team, always carpooling to games together and messing around during tournaments.

The day after you got your cast, you heard a knock on your bedroom door. You were lying in bed reading a book, feeling sorry for yourself when you saw Van peep his head in. “Hi,” he said with a small smile.

“Oh, hi. What are you doing here? Don’t you have practice?” you asked as he sat down on the bed next to you.

He shrugged. “I quit.”

“You quit? Why?”

“I didn’t want to play without you.”

•

You were thirteen when you shared your first kiss.

You were both in your old treehouse, watching the sunset through the window.

“Van?” you repeated, pondering it. He nodded, leaning his head back on the wood, a dreamy smile on his face. “How come?”

“Ryan’s so boring. I wanna be like Van Morrison, a rockstar and all that. So, Van, which is short for Evan - it totally works.”

You nodded, your lips curling up into a smile. The sky was turning a purple-orange hazy color, your absolute favorite. You loved sunsets more than just about anything. If you were doing homework or watching TV or something, Van would toss rocks at your window, just like in the movies, to make sure you didn’t miss it. You’d always go outside and watch the sunset with him, usually from your backyard or even his roof if you were feeling brave enough.

“Yeah, I like it. Very cool.” It fit the aesthetic that Van had been shaping for himself recently. Since becoming an official teenager, Van had taken it upon himself to descend fully into his ‘angsty’ phase. Well, as angsty as someone with the happy go-lucky demeanor that he held could be.

He started wearing all black and jumpers with rips in them and buying only vinyls. He’d drag you to the local record store, sifting through them for hours and buying whatever he could with the money he’d earned from cutting lawns. You didn’t mind, though You loved the relaxed aura of the store, the faint noise of whatever Mr. Brown, the owner, was currently listening to in the background. You’d flip through records, listening to Van babble on about whatever new band he’d taken a liking to, fingers running over the worn cases. It was therapeutic, almost.

“D’you think it’s weird that neither of us has had our first kiss yet?” He asked, turning and looking at you, eyebrows furrowed.

You leaned forward, resting your crossed arms on your knees. “Um, I dunno. I hadn’t really thought about it. Do you think it’s weird?”

Van shrugged, carving something into the wood floor with the pocketknife his father had given him for his last birthday. “Well, Joey and Simon both had theirs last year. And Henry Williams has kissed like, three girls. I feel like we’re the only ones who haven’t done it.”

His gaze was trained on whatever design he was making, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. You scanned over his face, the freckles dusting his cheeks, the scar in his eyebrow he’d gotten from a football match last year that was finally healing. He glanced up after a moment and locked eyes with you, waiting for your response.

“I mean, I guess,” you replied. “A few of my friends have had theirs too, but they all had boyfriends. I don’t like any boys at my school,” you said, shaking your head, cringing at the thought.

“Yeah, me either.”

“You don’t like any boys at your school?” you teased.

Van laughed, kicking your foot lightly with his. “C’mon, you know what I mean. I don’t really like any girls right now and I feel lame without kissing anyone.” You paused, waiting to see what he was getting at it. “Sooo,” he said dramatically, dropping his pocket knife on the wood floor and mirroring your position, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his forearms on them. “Why don’t we just kiss?”

You wrinkled your nose. “What? Gross.”

He rolled his eyes, scooting closer to you so your knees were touching. “C’mon, let’s just do it to get it over with. We’re best friends so it doesn’t really matter.” His lips were curled up at the ends, hair wild as usual and you actually debated it. He was your best friend after all, and you figured it would be better than kissing some random boy during a game of spin the bottle or something. You were going to be in year nine soon, for God’s sake.

“Okay, fine. But promise not to let things get weird between us after?” He nodded quickly, reaching his pinkie finger out.

“Promise,” he said, curling your finger around his.

“Alright, then. What do we do?”

He shifted so he was cross legged and you did the same, both of your bare knees pressed up against each other. The sun was just barely above the horizon, only visible to you in the reflection of his eyes. “Uh... I think we just do it,” he said, not sounding too convincing.

You swallowed as he wet his lips and leaned in, only a few inches away from you. You could see every detail of his face, every little scratch and imperfection of teenage skin. For the first time, you realized maybe he was kind of cute, like your mother always said. “It’s those little dimples he has,” she always said with a wide smile. This was coming from the woman who was convinced that you two would fall in love and get married someday. Yeah, right.

He stared back at you, blinking slowly and licked his lips again. You would’ve felt uncomfortable normally, if it had been anyone else this close to you but, well, it was Van.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered, his breath fanning across your lips.

You took one last look at him and shut your eyes, your stomach doing jumps like you were about to board a roller coaster. He cleared his throat and you felt him shift and then his lips were on yours. He just kind of kept them there, neither of you moving, unsure of what to do. It felt weird and different and you were a little surprised at how soft his lips were. Did everyone’s feel like this? This is what people in movies feel like when they have their big first kiss, right as the music swells? It didn’t seem right.

After a few seconds, you both pulled away and opened your eyes, blinking the blurriness away. You looked at the sharpness of his nose and the curl of his eyelashes and realized he still looked like the same old Van to you.

“Huh,” he said after a moment, scooching back to his original spot against the wall of the treehouse. By now, his face was bathed in deep red shadows that were sure to turn to blue any moment once the stubborn sun descended past the tree line.

“Huh,” you repeated, bringing your fingers to your mouth, running them over your bottom lip. “That was...”

“Weird?” he finished.

You shrugged. “No, just like, kind of boring, I guess. I don’t really get the big deal.”

Van scratched the back of his neck, eyebrows furrowed. “Maybe we did it wrong?”

You laughed softly at first and then started laughed even harder, stuck in a fit of giggles. “What?” he asked with a grin, which just made you laugh harder. He started laughing with you, warm and loud, just like always. You howled with laughter, both nearly rolling around on the floor of the treehouse. You laughed for so long that by the time you were done, you forgot why you started in the first place.

•

Age fourteen came with the band.

You weren’t really sure how it started or why even, but suddenly Van was playing with one of his friend’s older brothers in their basement. He invited you to come along most times, rambling on about how excited he was about a new song they were learning or how good he was getting with guitar.

You’d taught him to play originally, lending him the few notes your dad had taught you when you were small. He was entranced immediately, making you guide his fingers to every note you knew on the guitar that he’d saved up for for a year. And then he ran with it, learning every variation of every chord possible and spending nearly every waking minute playing in the basement of the B&B - much to his parents dismay. They scolded him and told him it was driving customers away which is probably how he ended up jamming with Billy, slowly learning a few of The Strokes’ easier songs.

You loved tagging along to watch him play, even though all he and Billy did was strum on their guitars and sing in the basement that had really, really shitty acoustics. You knew Van was a good singer - he always had been, even though he was in the midst of puberty and was experiencing the dreaded voice cracks and hormones that came along with it. And he absolutely loved music. Listening to him sing was your favorite part of the day. You’d lean back on the couch, listening to the way his accent slipped away a little as he sang, stumbling over words and combining bits and pieces of various songs together. You knew music and you knew that he was good.

“You’ve got quite beautiful eyes, y’know,” Van said one night, hours after his voice had given out from singing the same song over and over again in Billy’s basement.

You elbowed Van in the ribs, nearly knocking him over. “Shut up, would ya? Brown eyes are ugly and you know it.”

You stared up at the sky, entranced by the constellations and bright stars that were out. You were both sitting cross-legged on the grass in a field a few minutes outside of your neighborhood, far enough that the lights from the houses couldn’t reach it.

“No, ‘m telling you, yours are all big and soft and… warm, like honey.” You turned to look at him slowly, at the crooked grin on his face. You rolled your eyes, turning your gaze back on the stars. You wondered how they all fit up there in that big sky. It didn’t even seem possible, like they could fall out of it at any second and come crashing down to Earth.

“Says the one with blue eyes. I’ve always wanted blue eyes,” you said with a dreamy sigh.

Van shook his head and laughed softly, throwing his head back and closing his eyes.

You looked at him, blinking, and joined in laughing with him. “What?” you asked in between giggles.

Van shrugged, only laughing harder, which made you laugh harder, too.

“I think… I think I’m just high,” Van said with a wide smile on his face. You nodded, tilting your head back and laughing again, the air visible from your mouth in the cold.

“Me too,” You said after a moment with a giggle. “Guess it worked?”

You and Van started smoking fairly regularly after that, usually leeching off of Billy or trading him with stolen cigarettes that your father rolled himself. You’d usually settle for Billy’s basement, passing around a joint or a bowl and listening as they played the songs that Van had slowly started writing, your brain fuzzy and soaking in every bit of it.

•

Age sixteen came with first loves.

“Mate, you know Abby Newman?” Billy asked one night, smacking Van on the chest lightly. He blinked, eyes half shut and red around the edges.

“Hm, she’s a year ‘bove me, I think, so year younger than you, yeah?”

Billy smirked, taking a long hit of the joint in his hands. “Heard that she fancies you.”

You snorted and Van shot you a dirty look, shoving you lightly. “Fuck off, would ya?” he said with a laugh, then turned back to Billy. “Abby Newman, huh?”

This is what kickstarted Van’s girl crazed phase. Through his delightful charm (or so he said), he managed to score a date with Abby. Within a few weeks, they were real-life boyfriend and girlfriend, holding hands at the diner you always went to, Abby finding a spot on Billy’s couch to listen to them practice, Van telling you about how they’d gone to second base - gross.

At first, you were a little annoyed with Abby, her extra fragrant floral perfume and thick eyeliner being just a bit much but you learned to like her. Just as you were starting to consider her one of your own close friends, she and Van broke up. He wrote a sad song about her of course, actually probably 20 songs, but within a few weeks, he had a new girl in his lyrics.

He never dated girls for longer than a month, if that, and you were never really sure why they broke up but it made for good song content, Van pouring his emotions out into his at first cheesy but then actually decent songs.

While Van was experiencing the whirlwind that was adolescent females, you were finding your own first love in Matt.

Matt was a year above you, seventeen and had this smile that dove you nuts. You’d go to his football games, cheering him on from the stands, Van usually by your side scribbling in his notebook or underneath the bleachers smoking a cigarette.

You adored Matt. He was just so cool, always working on this old car that he already knew how to drive even though he didn’t even have his license yet, and giving you mix CDs with sappy love songs that you’d fall asleep listening to every night.

Van wasn’t a huge fan of him but you figured he was just being his usual over protective self. You forced him to put on a smile and play nice, which he did for the most part.

Matt bought you popcorn and paid for your movie tickets, held your hand tightly during the scary parts, took you to the beach when it got a little warmer, gave you goodnight kisses at your door that left you dizzy.

You were sixteen and in love. Or you thought you were, at least.

“Van,” you whispered into the phone, hand covering your mouth as you walked down the street on shaky legs.

“Hey, what is it, love? You okay?” he answered quickly, voice thick from smoking or drinking. It was the night of your school’s formal and although he didn’t attend it, Van was probably winding down from the afterparty that one of your classmates had thrown - the party you should’ve just gone to after the dance.

Instead, you were walking down a road you didn’t even recognize, in the dress you’d been dreaming about wearing for months, tears streaming down your face.

“Yeah, I-” your voice cracked and you let out a sob. You crouched down in the street, head on your knees and cried, snot dripping from your nose.

“Love,” Van whispered, his heart breaking for you. “Where are you?”

You ended up in Van’s bed, curled up under his covers, wearing a pair of his joggers and your favorite sweatshirt that you always tried to steal from him. He placed a cup of tea down for you on his bedside table with just a bit of milk, exactly how you liked it, and sat on the edge of the bed. “You wanna talk about it?” he asked softly.

You wiped some tears with the sleeve of his sweatshirt and took a shaky breath. “Um... I guess.” He reached out and grabbed your hand, the familiar feeling of his calloused fingers against yours relaxing you a little. “So basically... Matt and I had been planning on, um, having sex for the first time tonight, after the dance. Cliche, I know,” you sniffled, glancing you at Van. You’d expected him to shake his head or at least give you a disappointed look but his soft expression hadn’t changed. “And well, his parents were gone for the weekend... so we went to his house after the dance. And we were, like kissing and stuff and I realized that I just wasn’t ready, y’know? Like I just didn’t wanna do it then. So I told him that and he got really mad, telling me that he’d been waiting for this for months and how could I just decide all of the sudden I didn’t want to?”

Van’s hand tightened around yours and you glanced up to see his jaw clenched. You took another shaky breath. “So... then I felt really bad and ended up just doing it.” Vans eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” he muttered, shaking his head.

You dropped your chin to your chest, closing your eyes. “There’s more,” you whispered. “After we were done, he, um, broke up with me and basically said he was just waiting for this so he could finally dump me.” Van pulled his hand away from you and you glanced up to see him pacing around his room.

“Oh my god,” he mumbled to himself. “Oh my fucking God. What a piece of shit. Who the fuck does he think he is, doing that to you? To you of all people?” he voice cracked at the end of the sentence and he paused, running a hand down his face. “I’m gonna fucking murder him,” he said, reaching for his boots by the door.

“Van, stop. Please,” you whispered, pulling your knees tighter to your chest. He paused immediately and looked down at you, face softening slightly.

“But he can’t fucking do that. Do you know how messed up that is? I literally wanna go rip his fucking head off,” he hissed. You shook your head and when he saw your lip tremble, he dropped his boot and sat down on the bed next to you carefully. “Oh, Y/N,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around you.

You bit your lip and leaned on his chest, a sob escaping your mouth when he pulled you close to him. You cried, full on, a waterfall of tears into his chest as he stroked your hair and rubbed your back gently, keeping you tucked into him. He shushed you softly, almost rocking you like a baby as you cried and cried on him.

After you had no tears left in you, you sniffled and cleared your throat. You were both lying down now, both of Vans arms around your waist and your head in his chest, arm across his stomach. “Uh, sorry about that,” you said with a soft laugh.

He stroked his thumb across your arm. “Don’t ever apologize for that, yeah? I’m here for you, always. If you need to cry on me, I’ll gladly wipe your tears away,” he murmured in your ear. “But I still wanna fuckin’ kill him.”

You chuckled, burying your head into his chest. “I know. But please don’t, I don’t want you going to jail on my behalf.”

“I’ll do it. I’d do anything for you,” he whispered. You closed your eyes, breathing him in. He smelled a little different than usual, his cologne and cigarette smoke mixed with alcohol and weed from the party. But it comforted you nonetheless, because it was Van. “I love you,” he said, dropping a kiss on your forehead.

“Love you too,” you replied softly, falling asleep as you thanked God for giving you Van as a best friend.

•

You were seventeen when you started to get jealous.

It was well known by you and your friends that Van was, well, a ladies man. He dated a lot of girls. He was always loyal to them of course, he’d never cheat, but his relationships were always short-lived and dramatic. He still paid more attention to you than any of his girlfriends, but one night when you texted him to come watch a movie, you were disappointed by his response.

To: vannn

heyyy come watch 500 days of summer w me plz i need a rom com and snuggles

To: my bestest friend

sorry love i got a date w sophie tonight her parents are gone for the weekend ;) tomorrow? xx

You looked at your phone for a moment, color rushing to your cheeks as you snapped it shut. It’s not like this was anything new - Van hadn’t done anything wrong, he was just spending time with his girlfriend. But it bothered you for some reason.

The next day, when Van did actually come over to watch a movie as promised, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes when he started talking about Sophie.

“Yeah, I dunno she’s nice and dead cute, honestly, but she is a little insane,” he said, shoving a handful of popcorn in his mouth.

Your skin was probably green with envy when he mentioned something about her being good in bed. “Van, I don’t wanna hear that,” you replied, tossing a piece of popcorn at him.

He turned his head and stuck his bottom lip out in a pout, looking at you with raised eyebrows. “Aw, someone a little jealous that I’m spending time with another girl?” he teased, eating the popcorn that had landed in his lap.

You scoffed, shaking your head. “No.”

Van chuckled and leaned toward you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. “It’s okay, babe, you’ll always be my number one.”

•

You were eighteen when you realized you were in love with him.

It was your birthday and you were at a small pub watching him perform. You were leaning against the back wall, a beer in your hand as you watched. Van and Billy had found a bassist a while back and recently had even found a decent drummer. And they were good.

You smiled as he thrashed around on stage, nearly knocking his microphone over and putting on a hell of a good show for the small crowd of people. They’d grown a bit of a following over the years and you could tell something big was coming for them soon.

“I just wanna give a shout to someone very special to me.” You looked up at Van who was staring right back at you, a huge grin spread across his face as he spoke into the microphone at the finality of their last song. “This girl’s been there for me since the beginning, through all my shit. She’s the best friend I could ever ask for and I dunno what I did to deserve her. So happy birthday, Y/N. And thanks for everything.”

Color sprung to your cheeks as everyone turned and looked at you, clapping and shouting happy birthday wishes. One of Van’s guy friends who you’d gotten to know pretty well, elbowed you in the side and shot you a wide smile. “Didn’t know it was your birthday. How old are you, then?”

But you didn’t respond because you hadn’t even picked up on what he was saying. You were still staring at Van, watching as he started packing things up on stage.

Everything around you went quiet. You watched as he tilted his head back and laughed loudly at something Bob said and it sounded like goddamn angels singing to you.

Holy shit. I’m in love with him, you thought. I’m fucking in love with him. How did I not realize this earlier?

It was like everything else in the background faded to black and white but he was in color, his blue eyes shining brightly as he approached you, brown hair darkened with sweat. He said something to you and you had to blink a few times, bringing your focus back.

“Sorry, what?”

He laughed, shaking his head at you. “I asked if you wanted to get out of here, go for a drive, or somethin’. I gotta give you your birthday present,” he said with a mischievous smile.

So there you were in the passenger seat of his dad’s car, windows rolled down, arm hanging out and cutting through the wind as you drove over a bridge, music blaring, and fuck, you were in love with Van.

The lights from the city were bright and shining in the rear view mirror as the two of you sped away, leaving everything behind you. You stuck your head out of the window, feeling the wind on your face, a little buzzed from the beer you had been drinking earlier and a little high from the joint you’d smoked a few minutes prior and you threw your head back and whooped, unable to hold in your joy.

Van was looking over at you, one hand on the steering wheel and a wide smile on his face. “What?” he questioned you with a laugh.

You shook your head, unable to explain how you were feeling at that moment. You felt so full and warm and just downright fucking happy. Happier than you’d felt in a while. “I’m just… happy,” you said back, sticking your arm back out the window and letting your hair whip around in the wind.

Van laughed, rolling his own window down and screaming along to the music with you.

He pulled over eventually, onto a side road in the middle of nowhere but left the car running. He turned the music down a little and cleared his throat. You watched as he rubbed his hands down his jeans, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile. “What’s up?” you asked, rolling the window up and tilting your head towards him. “Ooh, do I get my present now?”

A laugh escaped him as he nodded. “Yeah, guess so. Or I could make you wait even longer.”

You frowned, crossing your arms dramatically. “But Vaaan,” you whined, “it’s almost midnight. Then my birthday’s gonna be over.”

His eyes shone in the darkness of the car, the moonlight washing over his features gently. “Alright, alright, quit your whining. Give me a second.” Van slipped out of the car and went around to the trunk and came back with a small box wrapped in newspaper. He held it in his hands for a moment as he sat in the driver’s seat, the windows around you fogging up just a bit from your breath.

You waited patiently, heart beating a little faster. He licked his lips before he spoke, turning his head to look at you. “So I’ve been, uh… pretty bummed lately because you’re leaving soon. I was trying to think of a way to convince you to stay here with me and just become a roadie or something but I realized that there was no way I’d let you do that,” he said with a soft laugh. “You’re so fucking smart and I just… I know you’re gonna do big things at Oxford and after, too. It sucks that we’re gonna be apart but I’m hoping I can come visit.” He looked at you expectantly, eyes wide as if you were going to object to this.

You nodded quickly. “Of course, yeah.”

He smiled and looked out the window for a second, turning the present around in his hands. “Good, yeah. God, this is fucking awful,” he said after a moment, eyes going to his lap. “‘M gonna miss you so much. I mean… my best friend isn’t gonna be 10 steps from my front door anymore.” You bit your lip hard, blinking fast. You weren’t one to cry over just anything but you could feel tears stinging your eyes. And you weren’t ready to leave Van in a few days at all.

You’d applied to Oxford on a whim, fully expecting to end up at one of the smaller universities near your hometown that would be within driving distance so you could still live at home.

When you got your acceptance letter, you were shocked. Van hadn’t been surprised at all, saying he knew all along that you’d get in. It took you up until the last day possible to make the decision. Ultimately, you knew you’d hate yourself if you didn’t pick Oxford. And Van would probably resent you for life if you stayed living at home. Plus, he’d dropped out of school a while ago anyway and who knew what he’d be doing once Catfish got signed.

He laughed softly, clearing his throat. “But anyway, I’m so happy for ya. I’m not happy about us being three and a half hours away from each other... but I’ll live. And I guess I should finally give this to you, yeah?”

He handed the present over across the console, your fingers brushing as you took it from him. “I can see you wrapped it yourself,” you said with a chuckle, inspecting the newspaper.

Van rolled his eyes playfully. “Alright, shut up and open it.”

You tore the paper carefully, holding your breath as you pulled the paper back to reveal a small box. You lifted the top off and peered inside to see a CD case. You pulled it out and examined the front to see a handwritten tracklist - Van’s messy script, specifically, but there were no artists listed. “Oh, you made me a mix?” you asked softly, beaming at him.

He shook his head slightly. “Well, not exactly. Um, they’re all my songs.” You gasped, looking back at the tracks.

“That’s amazing,” you murmured.

“And uh, well, they’re all songs about you.” You paused, making sure you heard him correctly, and turned back to look at him. He was staring right back at you, bottom lip tugged between his teeth.

“Songs about me?” you whispered. “I didn’t know you wrote about me.”

He laughed softly, pointing at the top of the list of songs. “Of course I do. How could I not? They’re kind of… in chronological order too, like from when I first met you to now.” You pulled the CD case to your chest, leaning over and wrapping your free arm around Van’s neck.

“Oh my God, thank you,” you mumbled as he tucked his arm around your waist, his chin on top of your head.

“There’s more, y’know,” he said as you pulled away, pointing at the box. You lifted some tissue paper to reveal a thick stack of notebook paper that was folded together carefully in a square. When you pulled it out, something fell out of the paper.

“Shit,” you muttered as you lifted your legs off the seat, trying to find it. You switched a light on inside the car and spread your fingers across the fabric of the seat until you felt something cold. You grabbed it carefully, placing it in your palm and you gasped upon realization. “Van,” you whispered.

It was his father’s necklace, the one he’d worn ever since you were both small. He’d started wearing it when he was only about seven or eight, he told you. You’d never seen him without it.

You looked over at him and sure enough, the small chain that usually adorned his neck was gone. He licked his lips, eyes scanning your face. “I… I can’t take this from you,” you said, reaching for his hand to give the necklace back to him.

He held his hands up in defense and shook his head. “I want you to have it. So you don’t forget about me,” he said quietly.

Your chest tightened. Forget about Van? That would be impossible. You’d spent your life watching him grow up, been there for each other through every heartbreak, every family problem, every low moment. You were in love with him, for God’s sake. How could you not be? He was the funniest, most thoughtful, kindest person you’d ever met. And he thought you’d forget about him?

“I could never forget about you,” you whispered, voice cracking. Your eyes started watering again and you looked at your lap, turning over the delicate gold chain in your hands.

“Let me put it on you.” You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat as you handed it to him carefully and turned to face your window. He leaned over the console and brushed your hair to the side, his hands against your neck eliciting goosebumps from your skin. He unclasped it and wrapped it around your neck slowly, his fingertips nearly leaving burn marks wherever they touched. He ran a hand down your hair, smoothing it carefully and hovering there for a moment before leaning back in his seat. “Looks better on you,” he said with a small smile.

The feeling in the pit of your stomach had not dissipated. You felt incredibly nervous but also still at ease and you were trying to figure out how that was even possible. But it was because you were alone in a car in the middle of nowhere with Van, your best friend of almost a decade who you were also utterly in love with, staring at him with only the soft hum of The Shins in the background. “Also, that’s um, a letter I wrote you,” he said softly, looking at the folded up paper in your hands. You started to unfold the paper until he interrupted you. “No, no, could you just wait to read it? Like, until you get to Oxford?”

You felt dizzy at this point, only moments away from having to press your forehead against the car window and catch your breath. What was in the letter?

“Uh, yeah, sure,” you whispered, tucking the note into the pocket of your jacket. “Van, I… thank you so much. You don’t know how much all of this means to me,” you said. He was pleased by your reaction, a small smile stuck on his lips as he stared at you.

“Of course. You deserve it,” Van responded softly. “Come ‘ere.”

You leaned forward again and wrapped both of your arms around his middle tightly, tucking your head into his chest. He slid both his arms around your neck, one going to the back of your head and holding you tightly. You sat there like that for a while, feeling how warm he was against you, breathing in his scent that never seemed to change, the cologne he’d stolen from his father when he was younger with the addition of cigarette smoke in the last couple of years. He felt so solid and safe and at that moment, you realized that leaving for Oxford was probably going to be the hardest thing you’d done so far in your life. Van stroked your hair gently, holding you so tight to him, not caring about the awkward position you were in over the center console or that The Shins CD was starting over for the third time.

You pulled away after a few minutes, forehead pressed to his. It was so dark you couldn’t see anything but the lightness of his eyes. I’m in love with you, you wanted to say. I’m so fucking in love with you it hurts. I want to wake up to you in my bed every morning and I want to dance around the kitchen with you in the middle of the night and I want to have babies with you and grow old together.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say any of these things. You were leaving in less than a week and then you’d be across the country from him. You didn’t want to risk losing him or fucking things up before you left. You’d just realized how you felt about him and you were pretty sure that he didn’t feel the same way about you but you’d rather just live not knowing for sure - it was less painful that way. You wanted to remember him exactly this way - warm and happy and just Van.

“I love you,” you whispered, “and I’m gonna miss you so fucking much. But you’ll always be my best friend, y’know?”

•

It was near the end of your first term when Van finally came to visit you.

It was a Friday afternoon and you had your nose in a book, studying for an exam you had coming up when your phone rang.

You flipped it open and grinned. “Van!” you yelled excitedly, slamming your book shut and jumping out of your desk chair.

He chuckled through the phone at your excitement. “Hi, love. I think I’m here but ‘m not quite sure where to go, honestly. Can ya come find me?”

There he was, a backpack slung over one shoulder, sunglasses on his face, wearing a huge smile. You sprinted toward him and nearly knocked him over with a hug, wrapping your arms around him tightly.

“Hi,” you said when you pulled away, beaming.

“Hi,” he replied, giving you that infamous crooked grin.

“So this is my friend Hallie’s room and my other friend Olivia’s room is right there and, oh that’s Charlie’s at the end of the hall,” you said, speeding down the hallway, Van trailing behind you. He seemed to be in awe of everything, mouth hung open and staring at every room you passed. “And this is my room.” You shut the door behind you and leaned against the wall, watching as he inspected the small room. “Like it?” you asked nervously.

He turned and looked at you, a smile spread across his face. “This is amazing,” he said. “This whole place is so fuckin’ cool and all of your pictures in here and your records, wow,” he murmured, scanning over the hundreds of pictures you’d taped to your walls. Of course, he was in most of them. You beamed at him, plopping down on your bed as he looked out your window, admiring the view of the city outside.

“So did ya miss me?” he asked, sitting down next to you, bumping your shoulder with his.

“No, I’ve been just great without you,” you said with a laugh. “Yes, of course I missed you! It’s been, like…”

“Three months?” he finished for you.

You sighed, scanning over his face. It had been only three months but it felt like so much longer. He looked older to you, his hair a little longer and some stubble growing in. His eyes still had the same twinkle and you couldn’t help but lean forward and hug him again tightly.

“Three months too long,” you mumbled into his chest as he chuckled, hugging you back and rubbing his hand down your back.

“I know, darlin’. But what do you have planned for me this weekend? Gotta get the whole university experience, yeah?”

Naturally, you took him to a party later that night. It wasn’t overly huge or anything, just a casual thing that your friend Hallie’s older sister was throwing at her house a few blocks away from where you lived.

Van was thriving in the party atmosphere, of course. Girls were eyeing him up left and right, offering him drinks and touching his shoulder. He was eating it up, not used to so much attention. He was telling a group of people about the band and how they’d recently won a music competition and they were all close to drooling.

“Your boyfriend’s so cool,” someone next to you said. You turned and looked, seeing it was a girl who lived down the hall from you but whose name you could never remember. Van looked at you through the crowd of people, shooting you a wink as you shook your head and laughed at him.

“I know right?” you replied, not even bothering to correct her.

“I love college. I love it!” Van shouted to no one in particular a few hours later as the two of you stumbled down the street, his arm slung around your shoulder and yours around his waist.

You giggled, holding him tightly to make sure you didn’t trip over anything. “Van, be quiet,” you shushed as you guided him up the stairs and down the hall to your room. You rolled your eyes, laughing as he said ‘hello’ to a few people in your hall and pushed him into your room. He collapsed on your bed, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. “I’m serious. I love this place. I could never leave,” he said, eyes wide.

You sat down on the edge of the bed next to him, patting his chest. “I know. I love it, too.”

Soon you were curled up in your tiny bed, limbs tangled together and fighting over blankets like you were sixteen again. His arm was around you, thumb stroking over your shoulder. “So you got a boyfriend?” he asked teasingly.

“Ha no, no time for that yet. I’ve been so busy with school I can’t even think about finding a boyfriend,” you replied with a laugh. “What about you? How’s the girl situation?”

Van shrugged gently. “Eh, dunno. I’ve been seeing this girl Lily for a bit but I don’t really think it’ll go anywhere. She’s a bit full on.”

You’d become pretty good at hiding your jealousy, pushing it down inside of you and putting on a smile. You knew that his relationships never lasted and you really had no right to be jealous anyway but the thought of him doing anything with another girl made you sick to your stomach.

You chatted for a while, voices hushed and words getting more drawn out until you could tell he was asleep. You laid there, head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat and listening to him breathe and you were just so fucking thankful that he was real and he was alive and here in your room.

As you laid pressed up against him, not ready to fall asleep just yet, you thought of the letter he’d written you before you left for school.

It took you until your third night at Oxford to read it, as you’d been so busy with unpacking and making new friends you didn’t have time.

You’d flipped the lamp on next to your bed and unfolded the paper carefully. You read it slowly, taking in every word, every metaphor, every long description and then read it again. He really did have a way with words. You cried, of course, because it was fucking beautiful. He wrote about what your friendship meant to him and how he was so thankful he’d gotten to watch you grow over the years into the person you were now. He mentioned little details about you that you’d never even noticed and wrote about some of the bigger things you’d experienced together and what it was like from his perspective.

The final paragraph is what really sent you over the edge.

And now, you’re going off to do such fucking wonderful things. I can’t believe I’ve been lucky enough to know you. Just the other day I was talking to Larry about you, and how I was going to miss you and everything and he said to me “Mate, she’s special. People like that don’t come around in life twice.” And he was right. I might end up traveling around the world with the band, visiting different countries and meeting thousands of people. But none of them will compare to you. To your heart, your kindness, your passion to change the world. So I guess, I just want to thank you for being you and thank God for putting you in my life. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.

You’re the best friend I ever could’ve asked for. I love you and I always will.

Love, Van xx

•

You were twenty when you met Ethan.

It was the beginning of your third year at Oxford and he was in your Calculus class. He introduced himself on the first day and whispered jokes to you about the lecturer throughout the whole class, making you burst out laughing at one point and get scolded by the girl sitting next to you.

He followed you out of the lecture hall, asking you to coffee right away. While you were drinking coffee, he asked you to come to a party with him later that night. At the party, he asked you to dinner the next night.

Within weeks you were inseparable. Ethan was witty and bright and kept you on your toes at all times. You studied together almost every night and it especially helped that he was a genius when it came to math.

“So you’re just using Green’s Theorem to set up a double integral to find the area of this region,” he’d say.

“I have to use whose what to find where?”

He’d roll his eyes and laugh, then explain the whole thing to you again.

You went to parties together and out to clubs sometimes, spending all night laughing and dancing together. You called your mother, giddy about your new romance and you could tell she was uncertain about Ethan. “Sweetie, are you sure about him? I mean he sounds nice and all, but… what about a certain someone back home?”

You’d never officially told your mother about your secret love for Van but of course she knew. Ever since you were little, she constantly told you that you and Van would be perfect together and would end up married with kids someday. And when she started to pick up on your real feelings for him, that maybe you did want to be more than friends, you could tell your mother really, really wanted something to finally happen between you and Van. “Mum,” you’d scolded her over the phone, “you need to drop that, okay? I like Ethan. He’s gonna be good for me.”

When first term was over, Ethan invited you to come to his family’s house for the holidays and spend Christmas with him. You declined politely, as you hadn’t seen your parents in ages and desperately wanted to go home for a bit, enjoy the cold weather from the comfort of your childhood home. In the last few weeks, Ethan had become a little full on, as well, so you were glad to get some space from him. And maybe there were other reasons, too.

As you rode the train home, looking out at the snow falling through the frozen window, you thought about Van.

You hadn’t seen him in months. Catfish had recently gotten signed and they were busy recording their first EP so you rarely saw him last summer before you had to return to Oxford. You talked on the phone occasionally, but you were both so busy that you had little time to call each other.

And fuck, did you miss him.

Your heart ached for him when you arrived home, his house looking the exact same. You pictured him running across the street to beg you to come play hide and seek in the woods nearby or to convince you to go swimming in the lake a few blocks away. When your parents took you out to dinner, all you could see was him. Him sitting at the booth you always used to share when you had late night munchies, him waiting for the bus down the road before school, him knocking over that stop sign when he was first learning to drive.

You thought about calling him but every time you clicked on his contact name, you couldn’t bring yourself to go through with it. What if things had changed between you? What if he was too busy with the band?

You’d been home for three days when you heard a noise at your window. You paused, trying to figure out if you imagined it and shrugged, turning back to the book you were reading. After a moment, you heard the noise again. You folded over the corner of the page you were on and set the book down on your bedside table. You shuffled over to your window and jumped when you heard the tap again, then pulled your shades back. Through the frost, you could make out the figure of a person on the ground below. You carefully slid the window open and stuck your head out, rubbing your arms from the cold.

“Hey!”

It was Van, throwing rocks at your window, a smile on his face, just like when you were young.

Your heart swelled. “You wanna let me in? It’s cold as fuck out here!”

Van rubbed his hands together and blew on them, trying to warm himself up as you set a cup of tea next to him on your nightstand. “Thanks, love,” he said with a warm smile.

“So how’ve you been? Can’t believe you guys finally have a record deal and everything. I mean you’ve been working for this for so long,” you said, pulling a blanket over both of you.

“Fuck, I know right? It’s been insane, just absolutely mad. I mean to hear my own songs actually recorded, not just on the shitty mic I have in my room? It’s fucking amazing,” Van replied, shaking his head in amazement.

He shot into stories about their manager and the stress over which songs would go on the B side and you could tell he fucking loved it. His eyes were shining so bright, hands waving around as he spoke, a wide smile never leaving his face. Van was absolutely in love - in love with music and his band, and you realized you were in love, too.

But not with music - you were in love with him still.

“You glad to be home? It’s not quite as exciting as Oxford, eh?” he asked, taking a sip of his tea.

You laughed softly, shrugging. “Maybe not as exciting but I like coming back here, especially since it’s almost Christmas. I love seeing mum and dad and it makes me… nostalgic you know. Reminds me of being little and running around with you,” you said, bumping his shoulder with yours.

He nodded in agreement, lips curling up in a smile. “Can you believe we’re twenty now? Christ, I feel so fucking old,” he said with a laugh.

“Oh, I know right. I feel like school is just flying by and I dunno, I have no fucking clue what I want to do when it’s over,” you replied, sighing.

“You’ll figure it out. You always do. You’re dead smart and so passionate about so many things that I can’t imagine you’ll have any trouble finding a job after you graduate,” Van said softly.

You looked over at him, biting your lip and wanting to cry a little. He always knew what to say. You’d been so stressed over the last year about your grades and about potentially going to medical school but you weren’t even sure if you wanted to, that Van saying this made you feel infinitely better.

“Thanks, Van. I’ve missed you so much, y’know.”

He wrapped an arm around you, bringing you close to him and dropping a kiss on your forehead. “I missed you, too, love. It’s been hard without you.”

You took a little satisfaction in knowing that he missed you as much as you missed him. You had your doubts of course, him being a big rock star now and you feared that maybe things had changed since you’d last seen him.

“I was worried you’d forget about me,” you said softly, looking up at him. He blinked a few times, eyebrows furrowed.

He shook his head and whispered, “I could never forget about you.” His flickered down to your neck and the gold chain you hadn’t taken off in years.

You bit your lip, unable to contain the smile on your face.

“You wanna go for a walk?” he asked after a moment.

So though it was freezing and flurries were coming down, you found yourself walking the same streets you’d biked around on when you were young.

You had your face buried in a scarf, hands shoved in your pockets because of course you’d forgotten your mittens, as you walked down the street with Van.

It was dark out now, so the sky was hazy and everything was quiet from the snow. You were shivering and looked over at Van to see if he was the same, but he looked fine, no scarf, no mittens, no hat and just a light jacket on. “Aren’t you cold?” you asked, teeth chattering.

He turned and looked at you with an eyebrow raised. “Not really. You?” You turned off the road you’d been walking on and wordlessly entered a park that you’d played at countless times. Visions of young Van sliding down the slide or swinging as high as he could flashed through your head.

You nodded quickly, pulling your hands out of your pockets to rub them together. Van led you to a bench and sat. “Here,” he said, reaching out for your hands. You sat next to him, pressed up against each other, and he took your hands in his much larger ones, rubbing some warmth into them. He brought your hands to his mouth, blowing hot air on them. Your heart started to race and you felt like a teenager again.

“Better?” he asked, pulling your hands away from his mouth but not letting go, resting them on his lap.

You nodded, lips curled up in a smile. The tip of his nose was a little red and he looked adorable.

“So your mum told me the other day that you’ve got a new boyfriend.” Oh, fuck. Since being home and especially being with Van, you’d kind of forgotten about Ethan.

“Oh, yeah, Ethan. We’ve been together for just a couple months,” you said with a small smile. Van nodded but didn’t return your smile, turning and looking across the park, snowflakes falling and nestling onto his hair. He looked older, circles visible under his eyes probably from long nights spent perfecting songs and early mornings at the recording studio. You were positive he’d grown since you last saw him - he’d seemed like a giant when you’d been walking together. “But I dunno, I don’t really know if he’s the one, y’know?”

When Van turned back to you, he looked nine years old again. Small and vulnerable and clueless about the world.

He looked down at his lap, at your intertwined fingers, and licked his lips before his eyes flicked back up to yours. “Y/N… Can I tell you something?”

Your breath hitched in your throat before you nodded slowly. Van cleared his throat and turned your hand over, running his thumb along all the lines. He scratched your palm gently, just like he knew you liked, before intertwining your fingers again. “Uh, wow, I have no idea where to even start. I’ve had this planned in my head for fucking years and now it’s real and I… I don’t even know what to say,” he muttered, eyes wide as they stared into yours.

“What do you mean?”

He laughed softly, his thumb stroking over the back of your hand. He brought your hand up to his mouth again and kissed your knuckles gently.

“I’m in love with you.” Your ears were ringing and you blinked slowly, wanting to pinch yourself in the leg to make sure you weren’t dreaming. “I’m so fucking in love with you. And I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to say it because God, I’ve known it since I was fifteen and you fell asleep on my shoulder in Bobby’s basement one time but I was always too scared to tell you. Scared because I knew you didn’t feel the same way and I was worried you’d get weird around me which is fucking dumb because, well, you’re you and you’re the best person I know so it would’ve been fine,” he said with a soft laugh. “I wanted to tell you before you went off to Oxford, too, but I knew it was a bad idea because we were gonna be so far apart and I didn’t want it to ruin our friendship or anything, y’know? But now I hear that you have a boyfriend and I probably shouldn’t even be telling you because that’s kind of a shitty thing to do, but I dunno. I couldn’t keep it in anymore,” he finished, shrugging like he’d just said something completely minuscule to you.

He reached up and rubbed his thumb under your eye and you didn’t even realize you’d started crying.

Van was in love with you. He was in love with you and had been for years. All those years that you thought he didn’t feel the same, that he was just a really good friend. After you’d read his letter when you first started at Oxford, feeling a little crushed that he hadn’t confessed his love for you, you were positive that you’d never be more than friends.

Van, your best friend of eleven years, the boy who’d grown into a man in front of your very eyes, was in love with you too.

You couldn’t believe it.

“Oh my God,” you mumbled. “Oh my God. This is real?” He nodded, his face full of confusion.

You’d spent years dreaming of this. Lying on your bed at Oxford, staring at the ceiling, willing there to be some way the universe could work its magic and make Van love you back. Apparently, the universe listens.

“Van... I’m in love with you, too.” He sighed gently, eyes locked on yours. “I have been forever. And I didn’t wanna tell you either because I thought you didn’t feel the same way,” you said with a small laugh of disbelief. “Fuck, I can’t believe this is actually happening. I spent so much time wishing you’d feel the same way as me but I honestly thought you never would. And God, I wanted to tell you so bad but I was just so scared. You’re really in love with me?” you whispered, biting your lip.

He nodded, bringing his finger to your chin and tilting your face to look up at him. You could see every detail of his face in the soft lighting, the freckles that dusted across his nose, the ever so faint scar from that football match so long ago, the curl of his eyelashes. You thought of when you were thirteen and you had stared at him before having your first ever kiss, how much he looked like that young boy right now.

“Of course I’m in love with you. It’s always been you,” he whispered, his thumb stroking across your cheek. Your heart was beating so fast you were worried it would pop out of your chest.

You sighed softly, scanning over Van’s face, the snowflakes that had accumulated on his hair, the sparkle in his eyes, the redness of his cheeks. He was in love with you.

“Think we can try that whole kissing thing again?” he asked after a moment, with a small smile. “Might be better now than it was when we were kids.”

You laughed, nodding as he leaned forward and rested his forehead on yours. You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close to you to make sure he was real and that this was actually happening.

“I love you,” Van whispered, his breath ghosting across your lips, the edges of his eyes crinkled because of how hard he was smiling.

And yeah, it was safe to say this kiss was better than the one you’d shared at age thirteen.

•

You were twenty four when you got married.

It was a nice autumn day, a slight chill in the air but the sun was still shining bright.

As you waited for your cue to walk down the aisle, your heart beating faster than you knew possible, you thought of the last time you’d seen Van. It was yesterday morning, when you woke up to him pressing soft kisses on your cheeks, your nose, your forehead.

“Van, what are you doing?” you’d groaned, not wanting to wake up.

He scattered a few more kisses down your face and then giggled - giggled - against your neck as he brought his fingers to your sides, tickling you gently. “Van!” you squealed, opening your eyes to see him hovering above you with that crooked grin.

“I needed to wake you up,” he said.

You looked up at him, blinking the blurriness away, at his messy hair and sleepy eyes. It had to have been early still, dawn lighting streaming in through your window onto his face. “Why?” you asked with another groan.

“Because I looove you and we have so much shit going on today and then we don’t get to be together tonight so I wanna enjoy the time we have this morning,” he replied softly.

You brought your hand up to his cheek, stroking your thumb across a dimple and pulled his mouth to yours. He smiled even wider into the kiss, morning breath and teeth clinking together and all.

You loved Van a little extra in the mornings. He was even more affectionate than usual, running his hands over every part of your body, wanting to be the little spoon, begging you to stay in bed for just a little longer.

He snuggled on top of you, arms around your waist and head nuzzled into your neck as you scratched his scalp gently. “We’re getting married tomorrow,” he mumbled.

You sighed softly, lips curling up in a smile. “I know. God, I’m so excited.”

He pulled away slightly, resting his forehead on yours. You couldn’t see anything but the lightness of his eyes. “Me too,” he whispered. “Been waiting for this for a long fuckin’ time.” He kissed you gently, then rested his head on your chest, your hands going back up to tangle through his hair.

“I love you.”

“I love you, so fucking much.”

As you rounded the corner, you took one last deep breath and looked up. Everyone was standing, staring at you with wide smiles and hands pressed to their hearts. The music was playing softly in the background, white twinkling lights everywhere, the flowers absolutely perfect. You were thankful your father was leading you, his arm tightly around yours because otherwise, you probably would have stopped dead in your tracks while walking down the aisle when you saw Van.

He was waiting at the altar, looking fucking amazing in his black suit, and he was crying. Tears were streaming down his face and his hand was covering his mouth as he shook his head in awe.

Your dad kissed your cheek and whispered that he loved you and took his seat next to your mum in the crowd.

When you reached Van, you grabbed his hands tightly, grinning at him as his eyes looked you up and down and then straight into your own eyes. His face was wet with tears and his lip was nearly bleeding from biting it so hard.

“Hi,” you whispered, tears stinging at your own eyes.

He laughed softly, shaking his head again in disbelief. “Hi. God, you look fucking beautiful.”

•

You were twenty seven when you had your first child.

You’d woken up in the middle of the night, eyes widening immediately as you shook Van awake. He had just gotten back from a short tour the night before, and he’d been absolutely exhausted. But he knew you were due soon and there was no way he was missing the birth of his first kid.

“Hm?” he mumbled, not waking up.

“Van,” you hissed, shaking his shoulder again. “It’s happening.”

He opened his eyes and blinked, looking up at you. You nodded quickly, trying hard not to freak out too much. “Oh my God,” he said, shooting up and stumbling out of bed to find the bag you’d packed a while ago. “Oh my God, fuck, oh my God.”

The whole drive to the hospital, Van checked in on you constantly, making sure you weren’t in too much pain, driving as fast as possible, squeezing your hand tight. He had a playlist on his phone for this very moment - because honestly, he had a playlist for everything - and he put it on, trying to keep you relaxed as it played softly in the background. “We’re gonna have a fucking baby,” he muttered, glancing over at you in the passenger seat and laughing softly. “Christ.” You laughed too and then started to cry of course, because your hormones were a fucking disaster. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay, love. You can do this, yeah? Never been anything you can’t do.”

“She’s fucking beautiful,” Van whispered, tears running down his face as you laid in the hospital bed together later, both of you holding your new baby girl. You were exhausted and in a lot of pain, your face sticky with sweat but you didn’t care. You nodded, resting your head on Van’s shoulder as you started crying with him. “Looks just like you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“We’re parents, Van,” you said after a moment. “Holy fuck, are we ready for this?”

Van snorted, shrugging gently. “Probably not but we’ll figure it out, yeah? We always figure it out.” You sighed happily, leaning up and pressing a kiss on his lips.

“God, I love you,” you whispered, dropping your head back to his shoulder. “Now, what are we gonna name her?”

•

You were thirty-three when you realized your mother had been right all along.

It was a cold, snowy day in the middle of December. You were cozy in bed, still half asleep, Van’s arm tight around you as you laid on his chest, blankets pulled up over you.

You were about to fall fully back asleep when you heard your door swing open. You heard some whispering and soft giggles and suddenly, you and Van were being attacked.

“Wake up, wake up, wake up!” Van groaned loudly as you opened your eyes, seeing your two children jumping up and down on your bed. They giggled, launching themselves on top of you and hugging you. “Wake up, please!” they begged, Mary sitting on Van’s chest and Leo bouncing up and down on top of you.

You rubbed your eyes, laughing softly at them. “What are you two doing?” you groaned, pulling Leo down into a hug.

Leo laughed as he hugged you back, burying his face in your neck. “We wanna go play in the snow, please, please?” he begged in his small voice.

Van mumbled something incoherent as Mary poked his cheek. “Daddy, wake up,” she said with a giggle. You glanced over to see Van with his arms covering his face, clearly not ready to be awake.

“I don’t think Daddy is ready to wake up,” you said with a laugh, reaching up to press a kiss to Leo’s nose. Leo squirmed off of you and joined in the assault on Van, pulling his hands off his face and pressing his forehead to Van’s.

“Daddy, pleeease,” he whined, giggling. Van groaned loudly again, before opening his eyes and immediately wrapping his arms around Mary and Leo, pulling them both onto his chest.

“You’re killing me,” he mumbled, voice scratchy. “Daddy needs to sleep.”

You laughed, squeezing up tight to your family and resting your head on Van’s shoulder. “Daddy does need his sleep. Especially after last night,” you said with a smirk. Van chuckled as Mary started tugging on his hair and Leo wiggled to get out of his grip.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Van started to tickle both of them, making them scream with laughter as they squirmed around your bed, limbs flying everywhere as they tried to escape him.

“Okay, okay, we’ll have breakfast and then we can go outside. You can go watch some TV while I get your Daddy up,” you said with a laugh as Mary and Leo jumped off the bed, racing into the living room.

Van chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you onto his chest. “They’re mad,” he said, shaking his head.

“They are, yeah,” you replied with a soft laugh. “But I love ‘em.”

“Love ‘em to pieces.” Van ran his hand down your arm slowly, before reaching his hand down to your jaw and tilting your face up to look at him. His eyes were sleepy still, his hair a mess. “And I love you, Mrs. McCann,” he whispered.

You smiled back up at him, feeling giddy as ever as he leaned down and kissed you slowly, smiling against your lips. You pulled away after a moment and stared into his eyes, wondering how the hell you got this lucky. “I love you more.”

Turns out your mother was right all along about the whole marrying Van and having babies with him.

You never would’ve imagined this at nine when you met him for the first time or at thirteen when you had your first kiss or even when you were eighteen and you realized you were in love with him. It seemed too good to be true.

But it was real. Van was real and you loved him more and more every day, still asking yourself how someone as perfect as him could exist. Van, who had become the best father in the world, crying to you at night sometimes because he loved his children so much and was worried about what the world would do to them. Van, who dedicated every album to you and had to call you every night while he was on tour because he couldn’t sleep without hearing your voice. Van, who made sure to send you flowers at work once a month, who you got to spend the rest of your life with, who left a note on your bedside table with a different reason why he loved you every single morning.

And God, did you love him too.

• • •

#vanfic #van mccann #catb fanfic #van mccann fanfic #catb fanfiction #my fic #van x reader #catb #fanfic #!!!!#i love this story omg #it's 2 am but it's fine

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anika-ann · 5 years ago

Text

Hands Too Cold, but Heart of Gold - Pt.6

The Closure

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader, Matt Murdock x reader (no SR x MM x r)

Word count: 2750

Summary: Avenger!reader AU, love triangle. Two weeks after the mission, things are getting back to normal. Except they aren’t, not really.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of violence and injury, tooth-rotting fluff and light angst

Story Mastelist

────── ·❆· ──────

Steve Rogers was a lucky man.

You knew that wasn’t entirely true, but momentarily, you envied him enormously. The serum kicked in and within two days, he was perfectly fine, if not a little out of shape. You, on the other hand, were still healing like the regular human being you were, being lucky enough to have your stitches removed after only six days. Of course, something hurt all the time.

Yet, there was a bright side; when Steve had visited your hospital room the day of his release and heard you whining about lying in a hospital alone, he had convinced everyone you had been good to go, he would take care of you and he would make sure you would rest. He hadn’t been lying (because he was always honest); the workout he had started with when returning to the tower had been body-lifting. Your body-lifting to be precise. You had laughed so hard as he had carried you to your room that you had almost pulled some of your stitches. He was the sweetest guy to ever walk the Earth. And a very handsome nurse.

You believed that being in the company of your friends slash family helped you heal faster too. A little over a week after your release, you were heading to the gym for the first time, Steve by your side. He seemed tired, which meant something, coming from you.

“You sure you should be getting back into your full training mode, Steve? I mean-“ you started, only to be cut off by his slightly amused smile.

“Sounds rich coming from you.”

“Touché. But seriously, I’m just starting and you-“ He stopped in his tracks, his hand covering your bare arm, his thumb caressing the skin.

“Snowflake, stop worrying about me,” he demanded, his voice too soft for you to take it as an order. You didn’t quite believe him anyway – you suspected he liked when you were worried about him, proving that you cared, just like you liked when he did.

“I demand an easier task, Captain.”

The corner of his lips twitched. “Request denied, soldier.”

“Go to hell, Rogers.”

“Language.”

It made you burst out laughing – the note with his eyebrows raised suggestively, knowing exactly what he would cause. “Oh, you’re definitely better, okay. Let’s go punch something.”

────── ·❆· ──────

To your surprise, punching sent your thoughts to places you not only hadn’t seen coming, but also hated. Your body remembered the last time you were hitting something – or someone. Your mind wandered to the mission and the outcome, and given the fact Steve was living and kicking just few feet from you, your mind got occupied with another man who had been present. The man in the Devil suit.

You hadn’t talk to Matt ever since you had… practically kicked him out of your hospital room, where he had apparently spent about four days straight, waiting for you to wake up. He hadn’t visited again and it made your insides twist in guilt. Because he had been nice and supportive and while he might have made a decision for you, it had been a perfectly valid one. He had been just trying to protect you from sabotaging your own body and your only response to that had been being an utter bitch.

“You should talk to him, you know,” Steve hummed after you placed particularly powerful hook to the punching bag. You were definitely pushing yourself. You didn’t care. The lying around and doing nothing thing had become old very quickly. Even with Steve carrying you.

“To whom?” you played dumb, placing another blow, mindful of not going with your full strength.

“Frosty.”

“Steve.”

“You know, they told me what he did. I’m gonna talk to him for sure. He played a big part in saving my life by keeping you calm and focused. ”

You punched the bag with unnecessary force again. You knew that. You also knew you had been an ass and the man had been just trying to save your life and you had been dramatic. You also knew you would feel very differently if the outcome would be worse for Steve, but it wasn’t and now you were truly embarrassed about walking out on Matt and barely looking back.

“And he kept you alive. That’s not something I take lightly.”

You met Steve’s genuine eyes, disturbed and caring gaze watching your face closely. You would drown in the sea of blue; and for some reason, you were slowly realizing that you wanted to find out if maybe you could drown in brown pools with golden edges too. Which was making things even worse.

You hit the bag again. “It wasn’t his call. He didn’t have the right-“

“He’s a vigilante, Frosty. He was trying to save your life. He’s a hero. How could you expect anything less from him?”

“Wasn’t. His. Call,” you repeated like a broken record, hiding the tears of shame. Steve caught your wrists, reading you like an open book.

You looked up, pressing your lips together to bury the flood of emotions. Embarrassment. Anger. Sympathy. Gratitude. Fear. God, still so much fear of what could have happened.

You gave in as Steve’s strong arms pulled you against his warm chest, wrapping you in a comforting embrace. You didn’t care you were sweaty, just hoping he didn’t mind either and you buried your face into his t-shirt. He cradled your tangled bodies lightly, pressing a soft kiss to your hair.

“Hey, hey, I got you…. You did it, you saved me, shh… we’re okay.”

Of course he knew exactly where your had thoughts gone. You sobbed like a freaking child, only to be rewarded by him squeezing you tighter, his big hand caressing your back in soothing motions.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, your embarrassment reaching a new level.

It wasn’t the first time you were crying in front of Steve – god no, this was the guy who had found you freaked out by your powers more than once as well as the good friend who handed you a handkerchief when you got ridiculously emotional about a movie –, but in the past few days, you were being just pathetic.

His body shook with shushed gentle laughter. “Nothing to be sorry about, Snowflake. That’s why I’m here.”

“To be my shoulder to cry on? Wow, you really got the worst job ever.”

He retreated a little and you barely supressed a whine when he did so. You received a kiss to your forehead instead though, your eyes falling shut at the tender gesture, tears escaping from under your eyelids.

“I can be your shoulder to cry on if that’s what you need at the moment. I’m here for you, okay?”

Your heart fluttered at that, melting in a way you almost forgot was possible. You wrapped your arms around him properly, hugging him as tightly as you managed, wishing to just merge with him. He let out a surprised huff, but his hand rubbed your back again.

“Thank you, Steve.”

“Of course.”

You stood in the embrace for what could be seconds or minutes as well as hours. You weren’t in a rush to end it or break the silence, but in the end, it was you.

“I don’t want to talk to him. I’m— I’m ashamed,” you admitted tentatively, loosening the hug and finally letting Steve breathe in.

“I know, Snowflake. But you can’t avoid him forever.”

“Watch me.”

He chuckled, his chest shaking with the quiet sound. “You want me to escort you?”

“God, no. That would make me not only a bitch, but also a coward.”

“Language.”

“Oh, shut up, Steve,” you let go of him completely in favour to smack his arm.

“He stayed in the hospital to be sure you would make it. You should pay him a visit.”

“I know. Can we drop it now, please? I promise I’ll go see him.”

Someday, you added mentally.

────── ·❆· ──────

You went at night. It only made sense, because you didn’t want to stalk Matt via Tony’s database to find him and confront him in his home or God forbid, his work place, wherever that was. You were nervous like a student getting called into the director’s office, trying to convince yourself that the sooner you would be over with it the better.

Daredevil was relatively easy to find – Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t really that big. Plus, he was hanging around rather shady places.

“Thought you didn’t want to see me,” he greeted you flatly and you honestly wanted to spin on your heels and run.

You felt like your heart was in your throat instead of your chest. It was really hard to talk.

“You’re right, I probably don’t, good talk,” you exclaimed, spinning on your heels to complete your plan of escape. Stupid, stupid, why were you even here-

“Wait! Wait, I’m sorry, that was mean-“

You tilted your head back, facing the sky and whimpered. That was even worse than him being hostile. You turned to him once again, coming a little closer. A small curious smile played on his lips.

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Matt. I really hope you know that, because if I actually did make you feel guilty for doing what you did, I’m officially Queen B.”

He opened his mouth and closed it again. He titled his head to side, looking a bit confused. “Queen B?”

“Queen Bitch. Crowned Bitch. The Original Mean Girl. Take your pick,” you supplied helpfully and this time it was him who shortened the distance, now standing only two steps from you.

“You’re not… that.”

“I really am, Matt. I’m sorry. I was being incredibly mean to you and all you did was being helpful, having my back, making sure I wouldn’t die and then you apparently guarded my bedside for days. It’s… thank you for that. And I’m really sorry. I know I don’t deserve you to even accept the apology, but-“

“I forgive you,” he pronounced with a soft smile and you stopped in the middle of your speech, too shocked to continue or even remember what you were saying.

“What?”

His smile grew wider. “I forgive you. I understand. You were worried, you were in pain and I know I crossed a line I probably didn’t have the right to cross. It was just… I couldn’t let you die – and if I’m being honest, I should have stopped you sooner, but you seemed so desperate to help him…”

You licked your lips, suddenly feeling even worse. Great. Now he also blamed himself for letting things go so far. As if it was his fault. Jesus.

“Wow, I really need to stop hanging out around people who carry the weight of the world on their shoulders.”

Daredevil chuckled, hesitantly taking your wrist. “That would be a shame.”

You almost had a heart attack, remembering how tactile he had been during the mission – especially during Steve’s stabilization. Had it been for your sake or his own?

“Are you always this tactile?”

The question left you mouth without consulting with your brain. You instantly wanted to take it back, especially when he retreated his hand – you caught it with your own. The action baffled him.

“I… I’m just curious. Sorry. I was wondering if it was a thing, because… because… I’m sorry, there’s really no subtle way to say it, because of your blindness? ‘Cause I was wondering a lot, okay? I had plenty of time to process the fact Daredevil was blind and I can’t really say I wrapped my head around it,” you admitted and his fingers caressed your wrist again.

“There’s really not much to wonder about. It is what it is. And you don’t need to… try to figure out a way of watching your tongue around me. I’m not sensitive about the matter – I had enough time to adjust and I’m actually not too happy with people who are treating me like glass.”

“Well… I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… yeah. How does that work?”

He shrugged as if it was nothing, as if it was perfectly normal for a blind person to be a freaking ninja vigilante. “Everything else is so amplified that I have a mental picture precise enough to do what I do. I still need a braille reader for work, because reading regular prints is too hard and few more things, but… I go by.”

You stared at him, amazed. “That’s incredible. What… what do you for living?”

He smirked. “Lawyer.”

You burst out laughing. “No. No way! You’re pulling my leg! You are a lawyer and a vigilante? Isn’t that-“

“Ironic? Not really. What the law can’t do, the vigilante can.”

“…that’s a fair point actually. I can see why you are a lawyer.”

The smile that had appeared a while ago hadn’t disappeared since. You felt its warmth washing over you. Your breath hitched when his free hand followed his right one, both of them enclosing yours.

“As for one of your previous questions… no. Not really. I’m very sensitive to touch and trust me, taking a subway in the morning can be much worse than you already think it is. But… with Foggy and Karen – those are my closest friends – it’s okay. I am pretty tactile with people I like,” he lowered his voice and your heart started pounding at that.

Did he just… did he-?

“Oh.”

“That okay?” he asked almost shyly and you found yourself wishing to take off that stupid helmet of his and examine his expression.

Was it okay?

“Yeah. Yeah, I would say it’s pretty okay, Matt.”

He squeezed your hand a little tighter.

“Okay enough for me to ask you to dinner?”

Your mouth fell open. You were sure you looked like an idiot, but that was a piece of information stuffed in the darkest corner of your mind now.

Matt just asked you out. Matt, Daredevil, the very same man you had been an actual Queen B around, liked you and asked you out.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. It’s okay to say no.”

You shook you head, snapping from your shock.

“No! I mean— yes. I-“ you let out an incredulous laugh, covering one of his hands with your free one. “Yes. It’s just… did you hit your head? Did I hit your head when on the jet? Because… I was… really awful to you, Matt-“

“You weren’t at your best, I’m not gonna lie-“

You laughed again, taken aback by the blunt note, but not actually offended, because it was the truth. “Is that so? Wow, Matt, smooth, you know how to get the girl fall for you…”

He pressed his lips together, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Is it working?” he teased you and you just giggled at the ridiculous situation you were taking part in. “What I mean is that you weren’t at your best and I still kinda liked you. I would be really happy to know the girl behind Frostbite’s mask better, hopefully when she’s not stressed enough to get a heart attack any second.”

And just like that, the laughter in your throat softened and you melted. Yeah, okay. That actually was pretty smooth. When he held out an old phone in your direction, you entered your number without hesitation.

“You’re free on Friday night?”

“Yep. I should be,” you agreed, returning the phone. He slipped it back into his pocket with silent thanks.

“Great. I’ll text you the details.”

“Good. Looking forward to it…. You should probably come back to patrolling your streets, huh? Sorry to keep you.”

“Are you joking? This was the best patrol night I had in a very long time,” he said warmly, but took several steps back. “Wanna join me?”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you started walking backwards too. “Nope. I’m still not in a top shape – I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Really? Am I that special?”

“Hey, don’t get too full of yourself! I can still change my mind about Friday!”

He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, but he was still grinning. “Please don’t.”

“I’ll see,” you called after him and began to create your path home. You waved at him the last time, hoping he could perceive it with his senses and then your ways separated.

You were leaving with one single thought.

Shit. I have a date.

────── ·❆· ──────

Part 7

────── ·❆· ──────

Tags: @mermaidxatxheart, @murdermornings, @elisaa-shelby @ask-hellbent-tweek

You want in, send me an ask/a message, you want out, do the same, yada, yada.... I’ll be happy to hear from you :-*

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