#there was a wave of laughter when he said his name in the theater
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
Listen, I just made a big brain joke and I feel like I need to inflict it on you
Spot has a lot of holes
Because you are what you eat
It works on multiple levels because of the bagels but yes. I'm weirdly proud of that. It's dumb and I'm sleep deprived
Wow thanks i hate it! so much!
yeah it's definitely just about bagels. just the bagels. only the bagels. I refuse to think anything else just bagels.
It was really cursed, but thank you for sharing <3333
hope you get to rest up 🥺 take care!
#funfact the french name for the Spot is 'La Tâche'#which is an accurate translation but has a double meaning in French#this time not a dirty one#it's just that when you call someone a Tâche you basically call them a Loser#i watched the movie in theater in English with French subs#there was a wave of laughter when he said his name in the theater#but ultimately that only works in French#so i'm sharing it with you since we're apparently kicking the guy while he's down on this ask#ichareply#anonymous
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wibirbs Wobble Part 15
masterpost
Bruce stood, along with most of the theater as Cass and her dance partner came onto the stage to join the rest of the Cass. Bruce was so proud of her. Despite everything Cass had been through, she had grown to be such a kind, confident young lady. For her not only get up on a stage and dance but to also be the one of the leads was truly a testament to how hard she had worked to find a life she wanted.
Next to him, Danny stood, wavered, and ended up right back in his seat.
“Danny?”
“I’m fine, watch your daughter,” Danny said. He waved one hand dismissively at Bruce while he rested his forehead in the other.
He’d gone alarming pale.
Reluctantly, Bruce turned back to applaud one last time. As soon as the curtains closed, Bruce took a knee in front of Danny’s chair.
“I’m fine,” Danny tried again.
“You look like a ghost,” Bruce argued and took Danny’s wrist.
Danny covered a snort of laughter with his other hand.
Danny’s pulse fluttered weakly under Bruce’s fingers. “We should get you to an urgent care—”
“It’s fine,” Danny said. Even his smile looked a little weak. “I just need a moment.”
Bruce doubted that a moment would help much. “I’m worried about your pulse.”
“You caught that?” Danny asked, question curious and not at all concerned.
“I was studying to be a doctor at once point,” Bruce pointed out dryly.
“You were? Hum, maybe I’ve heard that before? I don’t really know,” Danny said before he shook his head a little. (The movement did Danny’s coloring no favors.) “But okay look, I know about my pulse issues. I’m having a bit of a bad… few weeks right now, but I’ll be fine. I’ve already seen my doctor about it. I get how it seems concerning, and yeah I need to keep taking it easy a bit, but this is pretty normal for me. I have some complications from an accident when I was a kid.”
Bruce frowned, searching the words for a lie.
There wasn’t one, even if there also wasn’t much information.
“At least let us offer you a ride home then,” Bruce insisted. He continued quickly when it seemed Danny would protest. “It really won’t be an issue and it would make me feel better to know you got home safe.”
Danny’s lips pressed together thinly.
Bruce pulled out the big guns. “And Cass would hate it if you were hurt from coming to see her perform.”
“Does she have everyone wrapped around her finger?” Danny asked, lips quirking into a little smile.
“Basically since she arrived,” Bruce said wryly. He stood and offered Danny both his arms, palms up. “Please stand carefully. If you go over the edge of the box I’ll have to drive to save you or something equally dramatic.”
“We would make the papers for sure,” Danny said. His grip was concernedly shaky as he wrapped his hands around Bruce’s forearms, but he stood in a smooth motion, even if he ended up basically leaning against Bruce’s chest. Danny stepped back after a second, cheeks dusted with red. “Okay, should I just… wait for you out front?”
“It’s adorable how you think I’m letting you out of my sight,” Bruce said. He rested his hand lightly on the small of Danny’s back and started to guide the other out of the box. “Again, you falling over the edge of the box, down the stairs, dramatically onto some absurdly pointy bit of Gotham architecture— these are all things I am not going to take a risk of happening to you.”
“You are such a father.”
“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or an insult,” Bruce said honestly as they took the back stairs down to avoid the crowd.
“Oh, well, more of just a statement? But definitely not an insult,” Danny insisted.
They were tucked slightly close together until the stairs opened up into a sitting room that was kept aside traditionally for those in the boxes. Tonight the Wayne name had kept it aside for for Bruce, his family, and their close friends. Well, and Danny, Bruce mused as he made the other sit down on the sofa that purely for looks and not comfort.
Bruce poured a glass of the recently refreshed water and brought it over to Danny.
“I really will be alright,” Danny said, but took the glass and a long sip. His color was a little better after some water. “I’ve been dealing with some level of this for… huh, almost twenty five years now. I sorta hadn’t realized that it had been so long… but anyways, that means I’m used to it.”
Bruce rested on the arm of the sofa. “Just because you’re used to it, that doesn’t mean that you have to bear it alone.”
Danny gave a little shrug. “But I do, Bruce, or a lot of it at least. I live alone after all.”
The door burst open as the room was swarmed with a multitude of Waynes and might-as-well-be-Waynes. It left Bruce without any time to respond to that and grateful, as he watched his family pile into the room, that he had been lucky enough despite everything to not end up alone.
Tim was the one who paused, as if just noticing Danny, before shaking his head. “Right, the engineer Cass invited! Hi, I’m Tim. I intern at WE so you might see me around there too. Well, not that you won’t see the others, but I mean that you might see me more often.”
“Nice to meet you Tim, though I don’t know how often you’ll be down by engineering,” Danny said.
Danny had a bit of a tight grip on the glass in his hands, but Bruce supposed it was a great deal of people very suddenly. There was something though…
“Oh, Tim is also a huge nerd,” Steph said as she threw her arm over Tim’s shoulder. “He likes to tinker so you might be surprised. Trust me, I’m his ex.”
“We only dated for months,” Tim said with a roll of his eyes.
“That’s Stephanie, a family friend,” Bruce cut in before things got far too out of hand. “You know Dick and this is Barbara, who he mentioned. Jason, my second oldest, is in the back with his boyfriend Roy, Duke is next to them, and this is Damian, my youngest.”
“Greetings,” Damian said. His tone was sever, but far more curious than cutting. Bruce was proud of the growth even if there was still more work to be done.
“Hello everyone. Like Tim said, I’m Danny,” Danny said with a little smile that was mostly real with just a bit of polite company strain. “Cass spent an afternoon in my office chatting with me. I suppose since we talked so much about the show, she invited me to see it. Sorry to invade your family time though, I didn’t know I would be doing that.”
“That’s just how this family goes,” Barbara said with a soft chuckle. “Trust me, I’ve been around them long enough to know how they absorb people.”
“Way to make us sound nefarious, Barbie,” Jason grumbled.
“No, no, you guys are,” Roy said casually. “It’s in a good way, sure, but you’re still sorta nefarious and you definitely absorb people. This isn’t even everyone.”
“Have I apologized for them already?” Bruce asked, though he supposed the fond warmth in his words ruined the intent.
Luckily Danny just gave a soft laugh. “Don’t. The best sort of family and friendships all have a good helping of chaos and malarkey.”
“Malarkey?” Steph repeated.
“It’s a good word, illiterate ingrate,” Jason defended.
The room dissolve into chaos and Bruce turned to apologize again only to find Danny watching the group with a small but fond smile.
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
streetlights in the dark blue --- 18+
summary: you met seokmin in college, and in the beginning you were pretty sure you'd strangle him. but then he asked you out. everyone said marrying the goofy guy you met freshman year of college was insane. that someone better would come along for the both of you. by senior year you hated to admit that perhaps everyone had been right. since he just…disappeared. like you didn't mean anything to him. maybe you never did.
♡ pairing: theater major!dk x fem!reader
♡ genre: non!idol au, college into post college au, fluff, angst, some slight supernatural/sci-fi elements, smut ( probably more fluff than anything else though because dk really brings that out in me & angst because I have a crying myself to sleep at night kink )
♡ word count: roughly 8.5k or so
♡ this work feats: piv sex, unprotected sex, angst, some crying, being ghosted, oral ( giving and receiving ), fingering. let me know what i missed.
a/n: i was listening to abstract (psychopomp ) by hozier and i know it's about roadkill and all that but something about the lyrics + general tone of the song made me think of this. and who better to love you across the universe than lee seokmin? also now I have an idea for Hoshi x telepathy so this might become a thing. also i proofread this like once. so there's that.
"I'm Seokmin." You glanced up from your physiology book at the tall guy hovering near the edge of your table in the library. It was raining outside so the place was packed, where normally people would be studying on the plush lawns of the quad, they were all crowded inside whispering loudly and laughing louder. You'd rather be anywhere else but your roommate had a guy over and the common rooms were even more crowded with people. At least here in the library people were pretending to study, so if it got too loud you could tell them to hush within reason.
"Uh…so?" You hadn't meant for it come out so harsh. The ear splitting grin he wore slowly melted from his face and an awkward silence threatened to overtake you both but he just licked his lips and sat down leaning across the table conspiratorially and to your surprise not deterred at all.
"This is the part where you tell me your name." Seokmin said waving his hand in front of him. Was he serious? You didn't even know him.
"My name is please go away you're distracting me from studying." You responded reaching for your phone to turn your music up in the one headphone you wore.
"Nice to meet you, can I call you distraction for short? I just need a table to sit at. I was sitting with my friends but I'm gonna flunk this monologue thing if I stay over there any longer. I thought this might be the place to sit in order to memorize my monologue and it’s like the only empty table around here which is kind of weird. Because why has no else tried to sit here? Oh well. Hey if I'm bothering you I can leave." Wow he was talking, a lot. Your brow furrowed as you stared him down and slowly his chattering fizzled out. He pursed his lips, gave a small smile and opened the chapbook on the table in front of him purposefully avoiding your gaze.
“In a week…when the flesh grows cold…” Two minutes in and you realized he was reading the words aloud to himself. You glanced up irritably from your book ready to snap at him but took notice of his red rimmed eyes and blatant sniffling as he continued to read in a whispery shaky voice.
"Are you crying?" You questioned in disbelief and he jumped, staring at you wide eyed and then he burst into nervous laughter.
"We're doing romance scenes for my monologue class. Some of the examples in this book are just so ugh…read this." He pushed the chapbook over to you, and your eyes ghosted along the first few lines of the page.
"I have a confession. I've never been in love. So I'm really going to have to tap into the acting for this assignment, and I don't know, the idea of loving someone so much that you'd rather lie down in a field and rot with them instead of being apart is…it's nice. It’s heartwarming. It seems morbid, but the real romance of it is that there's someone out there who'd hold my hand and leap into the unknown with me because if this guy can be so inspired as to write out such a thing then he can’t be the only one who finds romance in that right? Whether through death or something else…ah that's it I definitely have to memorize and read this one." He said with a wistful sigh, you stared at him. Clearly he was a sap but…sort of cute once you got past how much he was annoying you in the moment. Or maybe annoy was the wrong word, he was passionate. Unusual too and God could he talk, but he made it endearing somehow.
"Do you need help?" You asked, not entirely sure what had gotten into you. It's just, he said it all so sweet, and who wouldn't be a sucker for those shimmering brown eyes and ears he hadn't grown into yet? Who could hear words said by such a sweet voice and not have their heart flutter for just a second. You weren’t a monster after all.
As if to drive the point home his face lit up. He was all happy smiles and babbling excitedly about how much help he could use and how he couldn't thank you enough. Somehow you ended up in his dorm room out of the rain and the loud library because he was too embarrassed to practice in front of anyone. Which…sort of defeated the purpose but you decided not to tell him that, and somehow it wound up being one of the best nights of your college experience so far. Just him and you, reading romantic monologues together.
It was impossible to forget how after everyone he read he'd stare you down and ask in a completely serious tone. “Okay how did that one make you feel?"
At first you’d sort of shrug. But he wasn’t satisfied with that as an answer. “Do you feel moved when you hear me say it? Is it romantic or do I sound like an idiot? You have to give me constructive feedback because when I read this for my professor I want her to be a little bit in love with me afterwards or at least teary eyed. Then I know I’ve done a good job. Let’s go again!”
It went on for at least two hours and each time your feedback got better and better. Until finally he knelt down in front of you, your hand in his and said the words with so much conviction you were dumbfounded for a moment.
“Alright, how did that make you feel?” Seokmin asked still holding your hand, while catching his breath.
“Well. I guess it sort of felt like I was falling in love." You responded, heat creeping along the back of your neck.
“Really?!” He whooped in excitement. It didn't mean anything, or it wasn't supposed to mean anything. He was just someone you helped and now you knew him well enough to say hi around campus. But two weeks later after exchanging numbers and giving him your actual name, you returned to his dorm to find the place filled with flowers. His friends were holding signs, there was a whole song and dance number, all to ask you out. How he managed it so quickly you still don't know. But it had been enough, this sappy goofball was yours. And you were his.
"World's best distraction can I ask a favor?" Seokmin asked. You were laying on your bed in your brand new private dorm room. A room you'd snuck him in and out of no less than five times this week despite only just having moved in. He still had a roommate and most of the time Joshua kicked him out in sheer annoyance. In which case Seokmin would slink over to your building and pout until he was let in. It was way past “no visitors in the dorm” hours but you had managed to work out a system. If you timed it just right, you could get him out and have your RA none the wiser.
“If it’s about staying the night, no.” You replied highlighting a few definitions you wrote down in your notes earlier for class.
“You’re so mean. Who doesn’t want their boyfriend to spend the night?” Seokmin asked rolling over on the bed so that his face was smothered by one of your pillows.
“I don’t want to accidentally end up pregnant when I haven’t finished school yet.” You replied lowering your notes to stare at him being utterly dramatic.
“They make things to prevent that y’know….” He mumbled, voice sulky and childish.
“Have you met yourself? You’re literally so romantic it’s terrifying. Yesterday you wrote me a soliloquy about my hands. My freakin’ hands Min. This morning you kissed me twenty five and a half times, you did it again this afternoon and again an hour ago. You said you owed me because I made you happy 102 times last week but since we had class you couldn’t do all 102 at once. If I get anywhere near you while naked I’m liable to get you pregnant with how much love you have bursting out of you.”
“I still owe you the last twenty five and a half. I can start now?” Seokmin’s head popped up, his voice hopeful.
“Min…” He slumped back into the bed with a dramatic sigh.
“I’m sorry. That day when we first met and you were helping me with my monologues — all that romantic stuff. The sweeping kisses and loving poems, the impassioned expressions and worship of lovers. I was saying it all while staring at you. I was memorizing it all with your face etched in my brain as I said it, with your voice helping me along. And your smile kept making my heart skip a beat. So whenever I think about love, about having someone make me feel how all those epic sweeping grand monologues described —- it’s hard to keep it to myself. Because you are love personified in my brain I gue— oh!”
Seokmin yelped as you tugged him backwards onto his back. Before he could fully react your lips were pressing against his. His eyes went wide then completely relaxed as he leaned into the kiss. You pulled apart eventually, gasping for air. You realized with a start you were straddling him, his body very much responding to the intensity of your kiss.
“I love you.” He suddenly blurted out with wide eyes. He’d said it in a lot of different ways and gestures but he’d never said it like that before. It meant something wholly different when he uttered it now.
“Was there ever any doubt Min? You wrote me a thirty three page love letter last weekend and still had time to sticky note my car all over.” You teased leaning down to press your lips to his neck. “I love you too.” You murmured into his skin.
He took hold of your arms pushing you back to look you in the eye. He was slightly red, his hair mussed and his eyes shone with desire.
“Let me stay the night?” He pleaded, his eyes searching yours. You grinned.
“Ok.”
“How many kids do you want?” Seokmin asked lacing your fingers together. You two were cuddled up on the couch in the apartment he shared with his best friend Joshua.
You let out an exaggerated groan. “None right now. Or ever if you ask me again, that’s like five times today? What’s wrong with you?”
“I want to marry you so I thought I should start asking important questions.” Seokmin responded casually bringing your knuckles to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss to them.
“We are literally twenty years old.” Your voice dripped sarcasm, it wasn’t like this was an unfamiliar idea to you. But Seokmin was always like this. Last week you had to gently break it to him that he had to stop giving all his stuff to Joshua, the two of you would not be moving in together. He took it hard for forty minutes then forgot about it as soon as you started holding his hand.
“I’m sorry, I know we’ve talked about how I have to stop doing that. Just, if I know you’re mine then why wait? Cultural convention be damned, so sorry for cursing. But the sentiment still stands. Why delay the inevitable when what we both want is to revel in the company of each other.”
You raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you doing one of those regency plays again? You’re talking weird.”
“Oh, you noticed. Dang I really thought I sold the gentleman scholar thing.” He said with a frown and you found yourself punching him in the arm. “Ow!”
“We talked about this! No shifts in vocabulary, weird accents, or method acting during serious conversations Min.”
“But baby how am I supposed to get better at this if I don’t use authentic situations?” He asked rubbing where you punched him with a pout.
“I’m not acting fodder for you, I’m your girlfriend.” You snapped rising to your feet.
His brow instantly furrowed. “Wait you’re mad at me for real.”
“Yes, I don’t like when you do that. I’m trying to set some boundaries with you about the weird questions and the marriage pressuring and you’re doing accents and playing a role. Instead of being my boyfriend which in those moments you need to be first.”
The hurt was all over Seokmin’s face for just an instant then it went completely neutral. Quite a feat for the most expressive person you knew. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how inconsiderate I was being.” He rose to his feet, suddenly his face was bright but it didn’t quite convince you.
“I’m hungry. I know you’re hungry. I’m going to go get us something to eat I’ll be right back.” He was already grabbing his keys from the table by the door.
“ Wait, Seokmin—“ Nope gone.
Like legitimately gone.
You waited one hour. Five. Ten. Apologetic texts were sent his way.Then angry ones. You went home. Every call went unanswered. Every text unread. Joshua said he hadn’t seen him but nothing of his was missing. Other than him and his car. You waited two days. Four. Eight. Thirteen. Your boyfriend fell off the face of the Earth without so much as a second thought towards you. You were terrified, you and Seokmin had fought before. About serious and silly things, but neither of you held long grudges. Even if he was angry, you knew him. He loved you. If you knew nothing else you knew this. He showed it in every single gesture, in every word and every action. He wouldn’t do this. Panic set in. Police stations and reports. Trying to question his parents but they were missing too. Their numbers blanked and their facebooks were archived. It was all so strange, had he been in witness protection or something this whole time?
Sixteen days. Akin to torture. Sleeping was impossible because you couldn’t stop worrying. Nothing about him for as long as you’d known him said he would do something like this. So you tossed and turned nightly, obsessing over every minor detail. He’d never done anything like this to you or anyone else you knew after some investigation. You were frantic and so had just decided to take a drastic course of action. Going up to his parents house. At least it would confirm something, but you had no idea if that would be good or bad.
You didn’t get the chance. Day seventeen and someone was beating hell against your door. You’d been on your own since last year not quite ready to leave the dorms, so whoever it was would have a ton of pissed folks at them if they didn’t stop.
You trudged to the door, yanking it open in irritation. And there he was. He looked…inconsolable. He kept trying to apologize through tears. He said it at least four dozen times. You were overwhelmed with relief. Anger didn’t come, not yet. You were just glad he was breathing and unscathed. You took his face into your hands frowning.
“Where did you go?”
“Doesn’t matter. Just let me stay here with you. In whatever way you’ll have me. Even if you hate me I’ll be okay just knowing you’re okay. We don’t have to get married soon. We can get married when we’re sixty eight if you want. Whatever you want. I’ll do whatever you want. Just keep me here with you.” He kept repeating it over and over, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a tight hug. Impossible to reassure and he wore his guilt openly. Yet he still wouldn’t tell you the truth.
“I’m so happy!” Seokmin sang doing some old folksy shuffle. He was in some play set during the 1930s and had taken to method acting at random moments throughout the day.
“Please don’t do that weird shuffle dance while holding my box of bras.” You complained. Seokmin was in the process of gathering the last of your wardrobe from your dorm room, you had chosen to move in together this summer.
“I can’t help it. I have so much stuff I want to do together! We’ve never stood at the toaster watching our pop tarts cook while holding hands so I have that as number one on my list for tomorrow. Today I think the number one thing I have is…wait never-mind.”
“No, no, no if I have to hold hands while toasting pop tarts you have to tell me what the number one thing is today?” You mused. Seokmin rolled his eyes and then hid his face behind the bra box.
“Taking a shower together. We’ve never done that before.” You heard him mumble sheepishly.
“How were you planning on asking me that?!” You asked trying to hold back your laughter.
“I thought maybe I’d just take my shirt off and you’d be so turned on you’d follow me in there or something.” He shrugged nudging past you to drop the bra box into his backseat.
“That—I told you I really don’t like when you hang out with Soonyoung he’s the worst influence.” You teased.
“He gives solid advice! He was the one who suggested me broaching the subject of moving in together again and you agreed! So really this is all because of Soonyoungie, we owe him.”
You did a fake gagging noise. “Please don’t ever say that again.”
Seokmin shrugged. “Anyway are you ready to go home?” He asked waggling his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes but you were just as excited as he was. No more slumber parties for the two of you, you’d be entering into the real deal of cohabitation and you were looking forward to all the first you would enjoy together. But you were also a bit nervous.
Things with Seokmin were great but they could be better. You were still struggling with trusting him sometimes, ever since the seventeen day incident — in which he gave absolutely no logical explanation for his decision to ghost you for two and a half weeks. You tried to be as reassuring as you could that he could tell you the truth but he didn’t budge on it. Which allowed paranoia to creep in on your end, what was he hiding? But it happened over a year ago and nothing like that had ever happened again. Leaving your side seemed to be the last thing he wanted to do.
The bulk of the day went on and you were exhausted by the time evening rolled around. How he managed to have so much energy despite lugging boxes all day was beyond you but it was in his nature. While you were fighting for your life to stay awake he was literally prancing around the living room with your bra on his face pretending to be fly people as if he hadn’t been doing physical labor all day.
And of course you loved him for it.
“Can I fuck you baby?” Seokmin was pressed up against you, his mouth on your ear. His hand was on your hip and inching forward to the seam of your panties. You glanced at the clock — 3:22 am. You didn’t remember falling asleep and you had no idea if Seokmin had even been in bed when you got in. But he was now. You could feel his cock pressed against your butt as he kissed down the side of your neck. “You’re tired I know, I’m just really happy you’re here with me.”
“I’m happy too. I’m glad we finally did this.” You responded trying very hard to ignore him creeping even closer to you somehow. You were certain if he could live inside you permanently he wouldn’t hesitate. Bye theater career I have a body to infest. You let out a soft giggle and he pulled back.
“What? Are you laughing at me?” He asked sitting fully upright. “You’re just so pretty. But we don’t have to — just we didn’t get that shower together earlier because you snuck in while I was gone — but that’s okay. You being rested and happy is more —“
You rolled your eyes, grabbing him by the ratty t-shirt he wore to bed, interrupting his probably too long “whatever you want” speech and pulled him between your legs. It was rare that you got to return the favor by catering to him for once, no one loved harder than Seokmin. He got you the best gifts every major holiday, he always had something new he loved about you ( last week he said he’d never seen anyone drink liquids as sexy as you did ). He was the current manager, supervisor, president and ceo of romantic gestures and the scariest part was how genuine it was. In the beginning when you first started dating you were positive you were being love bombed. But Seokmin just didn’t do love halfway. He was all in at all times and the things he wanted in return were so subtle.
He craved intimacy and closeness like a toddler sometimes. Always needing to be touching, grabbing, holding, and so on. But nothing quite got to him like sex did. It was how Seokmin came undone. You weren’t a sex goddess by any means but he easily made you feel like one just by nature of being irrevocably in love with you.
Seokmin cups your face and lowers himself down to kiss you. “Are you trying to impress me by using one arm to kiss me?” You ask teasingly.
Seokmin nods. “Yes, I do one armed push ups better than Joshua now, is it working?”
You pull him into another kiss, and only when he’s good and red in the face do you let up. “Definitely.”
You kiss him again and he lets out a little hum of delight as he kisses you back. He keeps one hand on your cheek, but then he’s wrapping the other around your waist holding you closer to him even if it’s uncomfortable. You press in, your tongue teasing his, as the swell of your breasts push against his chest. He sinks his hand into your hair, fingers gripping, as he tips your head back, devouring your mouth. It’s been nearly four years together. Seokmin has kissed you thousands of times in hundreds of ways—quick kisses in the car, slow morning kisses while lying in bed, hurried kisses in a dingy bar bathroom. Each one is precious. But they aren’t his favorite.
His favorite kisses are the ones he claims while he’s inside you. He told you once that he craves the feeling of home that comes from feeling you everywhere all at once—under his body, around his dick, cradling his hips, in his mouth, gripped in his hands. That feeling of knowing your so completely his. More than being his, he’s yours. Irrevocably. Completely. The kisses he gives you in the heat of your passion are a claiming as much as they’re an offering. In those moments, he swears he’s giving you everything. Every piece of him. And he always promises that you can have it all.
“I need to be inside you,” He pants against your lips, gripping tighter to your hair. “I’m going to die if I can’t. Look at you.” He tugs your t-shirt up over your head exposing your breasts. He pulls his own off and shimmies out of his boxers. He curls a finger into the waistband of your underwear and tugs them down past your ankles discarding them on the floor.
His thumb slides through your pussy, spinning a circle on your clit. “I love you so much.” He scoots himself down until he’s half hanging off the bed but now he’s eye level with your lower half. His head drops, the pointed tip of his tongue mirroring the motion of his thumb. Your head falls back, hands to his dark hair. You moan. “Everything about you is so beautiful.” He murmurs.
You don’t even bother trying to talk. There’s no point. All your words disappear when his finger slides into you. After a few gentle thrusts, he adds a second finger. Your back arches off the bed in a silent plea for more. You want more, more, more. Then his mouth is on you and you’re having an out-of-body experience. Like you’re being consumed. Like he can’t get enough. Seokmin’s teeth graze your clit and you jolt on the bed, vision blurring.
“Fuck!” He pushes a finger in to work with his tongue and you’re a writhing, whimpering mass of limbs. “Min. I . . . oh my god. Fuck. That’s . . .” You can’t string a coherent sentence together. The only thing you keep asking for is, “More.” And when he adds a second finger, mouth suctioned onto your clit while he impales you roughly, more is what you get. Within a matter of minutes, you have an orgasm at the hands of the most infuriating and adoring man you’ve ever met. How could you not love him?
“It’s not enough.” Seokmin whines. He rolls off the bed and then he’s grabbing you by the ankles pulling you from warmth to the chill on the edge of the bed. He comes to stand between your legs and despite his eagerness to touch you, his face is as gentle and loving as always.Your hand reaches up, and trembling fingers gently trail over his stomach, tracing his abs, tracking the V-line that runs down to his groin. You watch as he shivers, taking hold of his cock in his hand and gives it a few quick pumps.
“Baby…can you open your mouth?” He asks and it’s almost shy. But it’s not really a question. Not from him, and not like this. You give him a hard time because you buckle under the weight of his devotion occasionally but you would do anything he asked you to. Your wide eyes turn up to him, and your lips part. He traces them with the head, watching a drop of pre-cum smear over your top lip. Watching your tongue dart out, like you’re dying to taste him, before opening your mouth wide again. You didn’t mean for it to be so sensual, but it undoes Seokmin. His control, his kindness and gentleness snaps. He takes two fistfuls of your hair and pushes his cock between your lips. You hum in satisfaction, watching your boyfriend shiver as the sound vibrates through him. His body clenches as he withdraws and then he plunges in again. It’s heaven having your warm mouth all around him, your tongue swirling, hands roaming over his torso as he controls your head.
Your gaze flits up to Seokmin and he’s staring hard at you, full of fire. Want. Desire. Your mouth goes down farther and farther, hands gripping his ass. You swallow him deeply because you can’t get enough. His eyes are getting glassy, and he catches himself, immediately withdrawing from your mouth. Barely contained pleading dips into his voice.
“Just…please…” Seokmin for, if I’m not inside you within the next twenty seconds I will lose my mind. You know it well, know him better than anyone it feels like. All the little intricacies that make up the man you’re going to marry one day.
You lick your lips, and then he’s flipping you over, lifting your hips so your ass is in the air. He swipes through your wetness, watching the way your back arches, your knees slipping wider on the bedspread. You’re soaked for him and now he knows it.
He swipes again. A shiver races down your spine. Your pussy throbs. Your hips rotate and you push yourself at him. “Min please, I need — “
“This?” He slides in an inch, your mouth pops open as you manage to moan around the word yes. Your body vibrates with need. His body does it too. You can feel it. “This too?” He pushes in further, you fingers scrabble at the sheets twisting into the fabric. “It’s my favorite when you take all of me.” He pushes all the way in until he’s completely seated inside you.
“Fuck, yes,” you hiss, dropping to your elbows while he takes a hold of your hips. “Move, please move.” You whine. Your pants coming even like a drumbeat.
“Anything for you.” He whispers, pulling out and slamming back in. Your body bows, and your moans turn to screams as he hits a steady rhythm. Your groans mix with the wet sound of your bodies crashing against each other. He tugs your hair. You spread your legs further. He pushes your head into the bed. You chant his name. He squeezes your throat, kisses your neck, bites your back. You take it all, still chanting his name.
Your hips, your back, your legs—every move you make is designed to get closer to him. To take it deeper. Harder. It’s never quite enough. Not for Seokmin, never for Seokmin.
“Just a little more.” His voice is wrecked, he’s hyper focused now, angling himself slightly so he can get as close and as deep as anatomy allows. “You have no idea how stunning you look, taking all of me. How good you feel. You’re the love of my life,” He grinds out as he thrust in and out of you again. You buck beneath him chasing the pleasure coiling in your stomach. The bed dips and you see he has a knee on it now. This shifts the pressure, the stimulation hits you hard and suddenly your leg is shaking as your orgasm builds. Everything tightens as you clench around him and then you can tell Seokmin is tumbling off that same cliff with you in this moment. His cock pulses inside you as you grip him tight before your legs give out and you both crumble onto the bed. A mess of sweat, weak limbs, and breathless touches.
He pulls you into his arms. His lips press against your temple.
“I know I say it a lot, so it loses its meaning sometimes. But y/n there is no place that you can go that I won’t follow. No world where my heart doesn’t explode at the thought of you. I am unable to not love you. I can’t stop it. I can’t change it. I can’t be anything but yours forever.”
You have no idea what else he babbled. You were asleep within minutes the last words to him telling him that you of course felt the same.
“Y/n please wake up. Please I have to tell you something. Please before I disapp —“
You shift in the bed. Was Seokmin just trying to wake you up? You roll over, the sheets are ruined, they definitely need to be washed. But he isn’t in bed. You yawn reaching for your phone. It’s later in the day than you thought. Almost 11am. Seokmin is not a late sleeper but he’ll let you sleep as long as he can keep himself quiet.
But there’s no noise in your new apartment. He’s not capable of being this silent. Did he go get breakfast? Or did he have something he needed to do for classes? You don’t have a message and he always leaves a message but he’s only human. You text him and there’s no immediate answer. Slightly frustrating but when he was free he’d respond.
Three hours and nothing. Three hours and you’re slightly pissed. Those old hurts are rising to the surface, it’s his own fault. He makes himself so available, there’s a text for when he’s arrived at every destination. He’s constantly narrating over the phone everything he’s doing or where he’s going. He tells you everything, well almost everything. Something niggles at the back of your mind. And you glance over to the other side of the bed after you’ve gone back in to change the sheets. Seokmin keeps his phone in the nightstand drawer. You don’t want to, you shouldn’t —- but you pull it open. His phone is there, all the notifications from you blinking a hello. You frown. Seokmin doesn’t forget his phone, ever. He likes to document everything — he sends you the most meaningless pictures sometimes. He says it’s like being together.
And he doesn’t have it. Your heart beats faster in your chest. You throw on a jacket and a pair of shorts rushing out of your apartment to the balcony. His car is still there. Parked next to yours. He’s not in it. Or around it. Immediately you’re texting his friends. Joshua, Jeonghan, Soonyoung. No one has heard anything but no one is worried either. They’re used to not hearing from him, because they’re used to losing track of him when he’s with you. It’s common they reply. But he’s not with you. You haven’t seen him since four in the morning.
Panic is setting in. Somewhere in the back of your mind those seventeen days niggle. They poke and prod and mock you. It’s happened before. It’s happening again.
Where did he go?
three years later.
In the end none of it mattered. He didn’t want to be found wherever he was. No amount of hounding the police, no amount of pushing the story on the news, or shouting outside of offices worked. In the end the matter was simple. There was no law that said he couldn’t leave. No law that said he couldn’t shatter your heart into fucking pieces as it suited him.
Oh it had been devastating in the beginning. You had an apartment you could only half afford, and his phone which held no secrets. In fact almost everything in it seemed mundane or focused on you. You had his car which you sold illegally to break the lease on the apartment eventually. And still nothing. You went to visit his parents and they were gone…again. Joshua swore it had to be witness protection. Everyone did. Because the only constant they could predict about Seokmin was that he’d never leave you. He’d rather die. Bullshit.
You cried a lot. Screamed. Tried to have a one night stand with Soonyoung that ended with him embarrassingly driving you home and vowing to never speak of you attempting to jump him again. His response was that Seokmin would kill him. The same Seokmin that had basically ghosted you for six months at that time. But Soonyoung didn’t care, because wherever he was he had no choice. He would never leave you.
And you were sick of hearing that. Sick of hearing about his dedication to you. About his love. Eventually you avoided his friends altogether. It was too hard. Jeonghan would tell a joke, the kind that Seokmin would’ve loved. The kind he would’ve imitated to everyone he knew and later to you even though you’d been right there hearing it as well. They were his closest friends. They were angry with him but their hearts weren’t broken. No one wanted to hate him with you, they couldn’t.
You had to start over. After college you moved as far away as you could. You didn’t bother to keep in touch with anyone other than your own friends. No sense in letting his friends think you were holding out hope. You lost that a while ago. It stopped hurting as much. No longer a constant piercing deep pain. Now the loss of Seokmin was a dull ache. You tried dating but that would be impossible for awhile longer. What man could compare? What first date wanted to hear about how your hard and fast rules included being worshipped unconditionally and surprised with spontaneous romantic gestures daily? He had spoiled you for anyone else, right from the beginning.
Therapy didn’t help either. Your therapist would ask about red flags, what made you question Seokmin? His constant sweetness? His insistence that you would be married and have six kids? How he would make you hold his hand when he pressed the power button on the blender because loud noises scared him sometimes? All you could say was how it happened once before and you didn’t question it hard enough. You missed him so much that you never reached the level of clarity you had now. You just fell back into him — and what a horrific fool you’d been. To trust that bright, adoring smile.
Night was the hardest. When things got quiet and you had none of his laughter or happiness to soothe you. It had been three years and still you hadn't gotten used to it. You were starting to wonder if you ever would. At this point you were only months away from being apart as long as you'd been together and everyone kept saying that's when it'd get better. It had to right? Because the alternative would be that you’d always miss him and some part of you hated that. You just didn’t want him in your head anymore.
The one good thing in your life right now? A cute corgi named Yumi that you adopted once you moved into your new place. The house had once belonged to your grandparents who raised generation after generation of kids in it and now it would get to be yours to one day have your own family. You couldn’t wait to get there knowing some day you wouldn’t remember how much it hurt because someone would be able to love that pain away.
Feeling slightly better you headed toward the backyard to let Yumi out. A streetlight stood in the alley behind your house. It made the night time bathroom breaks easier for Yumi but it drove you crazy. There was a short or something in the light so it flickered like crazy all night. Even with blackout curtains you could see it sometimes and it would keep you awake. It was flickering now much faster than normal and you sighed, you really didn’t have the energy to deal with that tonight.
You were in the middle of the yard picking up dog poop when the light suddenly went out. You rose, tying the little plastic bag off and sticking it in the bin. You went inside to wash your hands and then came back out to investigate. The light still wasn’t on. Had it finally broken? That would make today amazing. Suddenly a sharp musical note caught your attention. The bedroom windows were open upstairs and you could faintly hear the sound. A ringtone. A familiar ringtone. Seokmin’s phone. A phone that you couldn’t bear to part with. But you hadn’t paid the bill at all. How was it ringing?
The streetlight flickered back on, it seemed much brighter than before. And someone was standing beneath it. They just…appeared. Aglow and beautiful and…Seokmin. A face you never thought you’d see again. Same big ears, sharp nose, glimmering eyes. He looked tired. His hair was shorter than he wore it before and darker. He looked stronger, muscles rippled from his t-shirt. The sight of him made you ache, and you felt faint. Suddenly you realized you had sunk right into the grass. Yumi was playfully hopping in and out of your lap.
Seokmin who had just been staring at you as much as you stared at him came running. Oh — he smelled different. A woodsy natural scent and so good. But you were angry, a numbing sensation began to smother that slight interest in him. He could never have you again.
“Y/n please let me explain. Please. I’m so sorry. I promised I wouldn’t leave again and I did I’m so —“ You stood to your feet ready to let him have it and promptly vomited all over him.
“I know I’m supposed to be sorry but I really don’t care about throwing up on you. I hope I ruined something really expensive.” You stood in the doorway of your kitchen watching Seokmin do his best to clean himself up. You were forced to loan him a shirt and at least let his shoes dry. It would be the perfect time to give him a piece of your mind, while he was at your mercy.
“That’s okay. I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same thing if someone I thought cared about me disappeared for…a year?” Seokmin said with a minor hint of hesitation in his tone.
Your eyes went wide. You were going to kill him. “A yea—Seokmin it’s been three years! Almost four in a few months.” You snapped and his brow furrowed in confusion.
“What? No. I would’ve come back. I wouldn’t have—I’ve never…” His voice trailed off and he just stared blankly ahead for a moment. “I was gone for almost four years?”
“Get out.” The word came out bitter and distant. He didn’t even keep track of how long he’d been away from you. This was a joke but finally it was closure.
“Wait, please.” You didn’t have time for it, you turned, marching toward the front door and yanked it open. Seokmin looked ready to burst into tears at any moment but he didn’t budge past the living room doorway.
“Get out.” You repeated a touch of venom seeping into the words.
“You didn’t see me walk up.” Seokmin replied frantically.
“What?” You snapped in return.
“The light. You were staring at the light when I appeared because you were looking right at me. So that means you didn’t see me come from anywhere. You didn’t see me walk up to the light.” Seokmin said in a desperate rush.
“So what?” You still held the front wide open.
“So I didn’t walk up at all. I-I came back from where I was by shifting realities.” Seokmin said.
The front door closed. You were crossing the room towards the kitchen and Seokmin involuntarily flinched backwards as if he were afraid you might hit him. Instead you reached for your phone.
"What are you doing?" He asked.
"Calling paramedics because clearly you're unwell."
"What? I'm--" He gripped his hair desperately, pacing back and forth for a moment before he turned to you with a desperate look. "Where's my phone?"
"Seokmin why does that -- wait how do you know I have your phone?" You asked carefully, eyes narrowing at him.
"It's the first thing that signals to me. Unless someone throws it out which has happened before. But I knew it was here, it's how I found you. It came back on right? It only does that if I'm back. I don't know why, it's just what happens." He intoned and although it had been several years, although you had no reason to trust him -- his face and his voice felt so familiar. You knew Seokmin. And against all odds, you still knew him. You could tell when he wasn't being completely honest, like before when he subverted all conversation of his previous disappearance. Now he stood before you and everything in his demeanor was begging you to believe him. You just didn't know if you could.
An hour later you were sat on the plush couch that led to your living room attempting to make sense of the story he was telling.
“When it happened before it was my body needing to go. I have to shift somewhere else at least once a month. Or my body does it for me. Like everything is building up waiting to implode. I hadn’t been doing my due diligence. We were spending so much time together and I realized quickly that although there were all these other universes, this was the only one that had you in it. I kept trying to find you elsewhere I thought maybe…I don’t know maybe somehow the you here would know I was safe with the you somewhere else. But there is no other you, anywhere in any universe. I looked for a long time.”
“So you were forced into this?” You asked cautiously, still not convinced.
“No. It’s genetic. It happens to my dad too. My mom knows about it though, I — I didn’t know how to explain it to you. I thought if I explained it too soon I’d lose you. I thought that I could just control it and you didn’t have to know. I didn’t realize that by ignoring things for so long it would result in such huge gaps of away time. I had been slacking on shifting, but it was so hard to leave you. I just couldn’t. Not even for a second so I kept pushing things back because I was scared I’d be gone too long. Finally I knew something was going to happen and I should’ve told you but I was gone for seventeen days and when I got back all I wanted to focus on was getting you to trust me again….”
“Only to completely shatter our trust a year later.” You said voice steeped in sarcasm.
Seokmin winced and then gave a brief nod before staring up at you. “I wanted to take you with me. To prove it. But my dad said it would kill you, that your body wouldn’t be able to handle it.”
You chewed your bottom lip and your eyes narrowed. “So if this is something you can control, show me.”
Seokmin’s eyes went wide. “But I just got back what if I leave again and I’m stuck like before. It takes a long long time to sift through reality and find my way back here. I have to keep moving, if I stay complacent I won’t ever be able to get back to you. And — and I don’t think I could live knowing I was stuck somewhere in a world that didn’t have you in it.”
“Seokmin I can’t trust you. Whether this is some elaborate lie or the absolute truth there’s damage that’s been done. I was unmade by your disappearing. And if there is even a hope to heal that hurt within myself I need it. Even if it means I never see you again.” Because if it was true and he never came back well at least you knew why. At least finally you’d have closure and you could move on. But if he did come back what then? It seemed like finding your way back to each other wouldn’t be an option…not after all this time.
He frowned but eventually nodded. “Okay, if it’ll help I can do it. I’ll just live with whatever happens.” He rose to his feet and when he looked at you, despite the warning in your brain, your heart swelled. You knew that look on Seokmin well. Complete and utter devotion and love. Even after all this time he still loved you. And then he was gone. Without a word just vanished in thin air. It was the truth and as you stared at the empty space where he’d once been you wept. It had been just the kind of healing you needed.
“Look.” You pointed to the flickering street light hoisting the toddler clinging to your leg up onto your hip. The light went out and your toddler gasped in delight as if they hadn’t seen this happen last month. After roughly thirty seconds the light came back on brighter than ever. A familiar ringtone sounded from the kitchen window, you could hear Yumi barking at the noise.
Seokmin emerged from beneath the light all smiles. He rushed forward springing your toddler from your arms and spinning them around. He was a good dad though he would argue against it. It was laughable to think of the old you, who didn’t think Seokmin had the capacity to hold love for anyone else but he was ever a surprise. In fact he was even more insufferable now that you’d become parents. Things like the first time your toddler played with a new toy or took their sock off were extremely important to him. The shifting grew harder for him the older your child got. He had to miss some important firsts like walking and the first birthday party. But he wasn’t allowed to skip his body’s need to explore the universes out there. He always had the best stories.
After that fateful night in your house things got better. You and Seokmin took things slow which proved a particular kind of torture for him, but it was necessary. There was lots of hanging out and then casual dating and then things got serious when he asked you to be his anchor this was after the wedding of course. His mom had done it for his dad. As long as you were alive he could hone in and come home. It was a huge undertaking because the stress of the shifting affected the anchor too. When he was gone you felt more fatigued, emotional and anxious. Which were normal symptoms of a lot of things but it felt dialed up to a hundred the first time you experienced it. Your heart missed him and you wondered at the familiar feeling. Maybe you’d been his anchor all along — when he returned it was like someone had slotted all the right pieces into place. Relief.
Even now as you watched them play and dance around the back yard with Yumi judging from a respectable distance, you felt the huge impact of your anxiety subsiding. Like you could breathe again, and that constant feeling of tiredness was dissipating. It was an even better feeling knowing that when he came back it would always be to you, no matter what happened. You forced him to shift now, he tried to get out of it but you kept a tight schedule. He wasn’t going to put it all off and then miss out on his kids life because of it. You would never take the risk of losing him for that long again.
He smothered your toddler in kisses that resulted in delighted screaming from the both of them and then he came over to do the same to you. As he led you both inside you were struck by how lucky you were. Seokmin had been in entirely different universes with all manner of beautiful people inside and out. He had every opportunity to look elsewhere. To love differently to give up and stop fighting to be with you. Yet he always chose you. He said once that despite having travelled to 3,294 universes, he really only needed you. His entire world.
And funnily enough you believed him.
#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#seventeen smut#seventeen fluff#svt smut#svt fic#seventeen angst#svt angst#svt fanfic#dk x reader#dk smut#wa: writing.#wa: nsfw.#wa: streetlights.#wa: dk.
115 notes
·
View notes
Text
The L rule
Part 1/2
Sodo/Dewdrop x f!reader
Summary: You know what they say about short boys...
Word Count: 1930
Note: bad english, the L rule is something that until now I have only heard in Latin America but if you are from other countries and have heard it, comment :).
"Yeah!" You squealed excitedly at your phone, you were in Aurora's room where a girls' night out and Swiss was taking place. Aurora had begged to be let in and well…no one can resist that smile too much and a blackmail of candys that Swiss had brought with him.
As a fun act in your pajamas, you had been logging into internet forums about yourselves, looking at fan edits, and overacting fanfic scenes, plus of course a LOT of Reddit gossip, and now you were trying to get into a group of theories about the band by idea of Swiss. You offered to take care of searching the forums, but the WiFi signal in the ministry is terrible, especially in the ghoul area, so you were lying on the ceiling of Aurora's closet, with the ceiling of the room at few centimeters from you, while the page loaded.
"I'm sorry Rain, I can't be with you" Cumulus posed as Sodo in a fanfic about him and Rain, the performance fell into ridiculousness and that was the funny thing "I am a fire demon, you are water, we are opposites, destined to never be together." He flopped onto the pillow fort.
"Love can do everything Sodo!" Cirrus responded with the same drama. They both read the lines from their cell phones. "Let me love you" Cirrus dramatized, dropping onto Cumulus in the fort and ending his excellent play amid laughter from everyone present.
"I almost cried," Swiss exaggerated while applauding as if he had seen the pinnacle of theater drama.
"Stay still!" Aurora scolded the ghoul and pulled her left hand back in, trying to finish polishing her nails.
The night was more than perfect, even though it was a 'girls' sleepover, the idea of the masks and manicure had been Swiss's idea, he had really committed herself to making sure everyone had a good time. They had eaten popcorn, pizza and done spicy food challenges, challenges that Cumulus had won.
"Girls, enter the forum" you said as you slide out of the prison between the closet and the ceiling, Swiss made space for you next to him as he waved his hands to dry the polish.
"Let's get this started!" Cirrus said, excited to hear the fans' crazy ideas.
They avoided all theories that had to do with Papa Tenzo since it was a nostalgic topic, it was funny how many tried to guess Montain's height, he had made edits about Swiss promoting toothpastes, or about Rain being a kawaii girl.
"Wait! See" Aurora pointed out on the screen.
Test Who is your Ghost Soulmate ¡Click Here!
Without asking permission Aurora clicked, they were stupid questions like: What is your favorite food? What is your favorite instrument? What is your favorite color? Favorite Ghost song? Etc.
The results were curious to say the least.
Cumulus result was Mountain and she seemed to blush a little as she sank into the pillows. Something that you guys didn't waste and joked about.
Cirrus was paired with herself, and in an exaggerated way she went for a hand mirror from among Aurora's makeup and kissed her reflection, definitely nothing better than being your own love of your life.
Aurora and Swiss's turns were fun, they both appeared as the love of each other's lives, they looked at each other and burst into laughter. Swiss put her arm around Aurora's shoulders. "Maybe in another life, dear" she said in a diva tone as she laughed and Aurora agreed.
When it was your turn everyone was curious, you completed the questions and waited a few seconds before the pixels showed an image of Sodo on the screen with a brief description of why he would be your soulmate:
'A wild boy who will get you out of any boredom✨, his hands work magic🔥, his name says it all.🥴 All good girls die for a bad boy like Sodo. You already know the L rule 😏'
You laughed nervously as you shook your head, there was no way the gremlin was your ideal soulmate "No, never that" you said between nervous laughs but the others only gave each other knowing looks, perhaps your insistence on denying everything ended up confirming it. “Come on guys, it’s just a silly test,” you tried to ignore him.
You and Sodo weren't very close, but on the part of the ghoul who always seemed to want to be away from you, you had even felt that being close to him drained his energy and you weren't really looking for that. So if Sodo was in the room you practically became part of the furniture and in the few times they had to interact you were always too stiff to be natural while you stammered vague responses or ran away from the room, leaving the ghoul somewhat bewildered. The group had interpreted those things as 'romantic advances' and if they were like that they would be the most pathetic romantic advances in the world.
"Stop guys, seriously, it's not funny. It's fake." It was actually funny, if you weren't the victim you would joke just like they do now.
"Of course it's funny, just look at you, if it weren't real, your cheeks wouldn't be as red as tomatoes" Cumulus took the opportunity to say.
"You blushed too!" You replied, you weren't expecting that attack from Cumulus.
"At least I can admit that Mountain is cute!" Cumulus said. Low blow for you.
You wouldn't deny that Sodo was cute, it was an opinion that you and millions of others shared, even in his demonic form, you had always thought that there was no way Sodo wouldn't look attractive. But he had to stay alone in your thoughts.
"One way or the other!" You raised your arms in a sign of peace. “Also, what the hell does the L rule mean?”
"I don't know" Aurora answered, looking at the others for answers but both Cumulus and Cirrus raised and dropped their shoulders.
"No idea girls" Cirrus said.
A small, almost imperceptible laugh escaped Swiss's lips and like owls they all turned towards him, smiling maliciously at each other.
"You know what it is, right Swiss?" Cumulus approached him with a tender puppy look.
"I won't tell them," he replied, but there was a small crack of weakness in his voice. If they pressed harder he would speak.
"But we invited you to our girls' night" Cirrus pouted and crossed her arms childishly, something very cute and she knew it.
"It's a boy thing" He responded, crossing his legs looking at the ceiling to avoid falling into the manipulative tenderness of the ghoulette.
"But you said you were one of us. We girls tell each other everything" you said in the sweetest tone you had, one that worked very well with Rain or Phantom. You leaned on her shoulder like a cat to be closer to her ear.
If an outsider saw the scene they would think it was some kind of satanic harem and not a group of girls trying to convince their dear friend to betray their gender and tell them the secret.
"If it's not the good way, it's the bad way." Aurora pretended to roll up the sleeves of her pajamas. "Girls, hold it down."
With evil smiles they all understood the plan, Cumulus and Cirrus held the legs and you held their wrists. Swiss writhed like a snake but it was impossible for him to get free.
"It's not okay! It's cheating!" he screamed as he tried to get away, laughter escaping him.
"Come on Y/N, you wouldn't do this to your good friend" he begged you with his cute smile.
"Sorry Swiss, curiosity first. Give it Aurora!" Swiss opened her mouth to say something but Aurora rushed over her stomach, beginning the torture.
Aurora's hands ran over the most sensitive areas of Swiss's body, causing him to tickle and laugh loudly and uncontrollably, as well as broken pleas for them to stop. The scene made the girls laugh.
"Confess!" You yelled at him between laughs.
"No," he replied. "It's a boy thing," Swiss gasped as he tried to take a breath, his chest rising and falling violently, tears beginning to escape from his eyes and roll down to his neck.
"We can do this all night!" Aurora hummed and she wasn't lying.
"I…" I gasp "Fuck it…Fine!" He gasped again but louder, "I will confess!" the tickling stopped abruptly letting him breathe properly after some endless minutes.
"Okay" Aurora stayed on him for a few seconds waiting for some sign of a lie but it wasn't like that. She raised her hands in peace and moved away from her stomach. You and the girls let it out too. Swiss wiped away his tears and took some time to get back to normal.
He stood up and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from Aurora's nightstand before sitting back down on the cushions and scribbling a few things down. She ended up showing them an L on the paper, next to the vertical line she had written the letter 'B' and under the small horizontal line the letter 'D'.
"Any idea?" Swiss asked and the four shook their heads, Swiss sighed.
"What does 'D' mean?" you asked innocently.
Swiss smiled mischievously "This" he pointed to his own crotch.
You looked at his crotch for a few seconds before understanding, the blood went to your cheeks at a fantastic speed and you covered your face embarrassed to let your gaze go to the area of Swiss's body and everyone's eyes widened in surprise when they understood. They didn't need to look to understand.
"So if I have the page vertically and the B refers to the boy and the D refers to his… 'little friend', it means that the taller the boy, the smaller his 'D' will be, do you understand?" I explain Swiss as if it were a university class.
"But Sodo isn't that tall, the rule doesn't make sense then" Cumulus was the least uncomfortable of all, Aurora had a nervous smile, you and Cirrus covered half of your faces with a cushion each, absolutely embarrassed.
''Quite the opposite, my dear Cirrus." Swiss turned the page horizontally and changed the place of the 'B' and the 'D'. "As you see, everything changes, now the boy is small so his 'D' will be bigger."
If it could still be possible, your cheeks took on an even redder color. The girls let out a group "Ohhhh…" as Swiss threw the piece of paper against the door.
"Happy with the answer?" Swiss asked, crossing his arms, proud of his explanation. "I hope this betrayal of my gender merits some reward." She looked at her nails with feigned disinterest, before Aurora handed her a handful of candy.
"I was expecting something funnier, but it's okay," you said as you looked out the window, hoping that your blush would stop and that no one would notice.
"Forget it, let's do something interesting now" Swiss said, returning to the fun of a sleepover.
Swiss had finished singing 'London Boy' by Taylor Swift and had even tied the sheet of Aurora's bed around her waist as an elegant dress. You regretted not being able to record that moment. Now it was your turn. You spun the little spinner on the screen of Swiss's phone, it spun for a few seconds and stopped on 'I Love It' by Icona Pop. Your eyes sparkled with excitement.
A long night of talented divas was coming.
I hope you like it, I plan to write some "short" stories to cover my obsession with the band while I continue writing the fanfic.
#sodo ghoul x reader#sodo x reader#per sodomizer eriksson#sodomizer ghoul#nameless ghost#swiss ghoul#aurora ghoulette#cumulus ghoulette#cirrus ghoulette#the band ghost#ghost#nameless ghouls#namelessghoulettes
152 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapter 16!
Steve Harrington: Vampire Hunter
ao3 link
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8
Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12
Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 (Chapter 17 (final) coming soon!)
One of Wayne’s hands landed like a comforting weight on Steve's back. “It’s gonna be alright. Whatever you done, I'm sure there's a way to fix it.”
Steve let out a half hysterical bark of laughter and finally lifted his head from between his shaking hands.
“I don’t know if I can, but I have to try. Can you head downtown? I need you to drop me off somewhere.” Eddie could be anywhere. The theater, the club, or any one of the many other businesses he was involved in, but in any case they would be headed in the right direction.
Wayne nodded and made a u-turn, speeding down the road as Steve picked his phone back up off the footwell and dialed Dustin.
“Hey Steve! What’s up?”
Steve’s heartbeat picked up at the sound of the boy’s voice. How could he ever have put Dustin's safety in Henry’s hands? He felt shame wash over him like a tidal wave, for a growing number of reasons.
“Where are you right now?” Steve asked in a rush.
“Underground still, I just got up. Everything okay?”
“Is Eddie with you? I need to talk to him right away, it’s important.”
“Oh.” Dustin exclaimed, surprised. “Um, is it an emergency? Because he’s upstairs in the theater getting ready for the party and..”
Steve had no idea what party Dustin was talking about but it hardly mattered. He considered trying to talk to Eddie mind to mind, it might be faster, but he was still a few miles away, and wasn’t sure what the range was on that kind of power.
“Yes, it’s an emergency.” Steve interrupted. “No, everything is not okay, I need you to run the phone to him as fast as you can. Please hurry.”
“Shit. Okay, hang on.”
The sound that came through the phone was a bizarre mix of rapidly pounding footsteps and a whooshing so loud it was like he was standing in a wind storm. In less than two minutes the phone was being handed off, and Eddie’s familiar voice filled the line.
“Steve?” The vampire sounded almost panicked, as if he knew that only a matter of life and death would have Steve calling him like this.
“Eddie, I…” He swallowed hard. “There’s… fuck… there’s a vampire coming after you. He’s…” He trailed off again, throat tight as he struggled to tell Eddie what he’d done.
Eddie scoffed. “Is that all? Tell him to get in line behind all the others.”
“No, you don’t understand. I-” Steve took a deep breath and blew it out slow. “Eddie, I gave you up to him. I told him that you spend your daylight hours under the theater. I even gave him the layout of the place. I told him everything, everything. His name is Henry Creel and he’s the oldest thing I've ever met. Older than Billy, older than Anglea, in fact I think he’s Angela’s master. I thought…” Steve sighed, there was no point trying to explain. “It doesn’t matter what I thought, but they are working together. It’s all been a plan to trick me into betraying you and helping them, and I fell for it.”
The silence on the other end of the line was absolute, and he thought Eddie might have hung up on him. He wouldn’t have blamed him if he had.
Steve pulled the phone away from his ear to check but the call was still connected.
“Eddie?”
“You were really going to let him kill me?” Eddie breathed the words, the shock and hurt so painfully clear in his voice.
Steve’s chest began to ache. “You marked me again after I refused. I… you just kept pushing and… I was so mad at you. I… I didn't feel like I had any other choice.” He said weakly, the excuse sounding lame now even to his own ears.
Eddie cleared his throat and when he spoke again sounded a little more like his usual self. “So what changed? Why warn me now if you wanted me dead so badly?”
Steve pressed on, ignoring the way Eddie’s words hit him like a knife in the gut, though he probably deserved the pain. This was too important, he had to tell him their plan. “Henry wants to take control of the city so he can order all of your vampires to kill humans. He means for there to be a massacre tomorrow night. When we met, he told me he thought legalized vampirism was helping his kind to spread too quickly. I agreed with him but I didn't know what he meant to do. He wants vampires to be hunted again. I didn't know this was his plan to discredit them.”
“So that’s it? You are warning me now to save human lives?”
“Well, yes, but…” Steve stammered.
“This is what it took for you to believe I am the lesser evil?”
Steve squeezed his eyes shut, the pain in his chest blossoming to the point that he could hardly feel anything else. Had he just been a scared idiot this whole time?
“I’m sorry.” He whispered it so softly he wasn’t sure Eddie had even heard until he replied.
“It’s okay, Steve.” Eddie said, so much hurt and resignation carried in three simple words. “I will do what I can to save your precious humans.”
“It isn’t like that, please, I’m on my way to you now. I-” Steve cut himself off, afraid of what he was about to say. He started again. “He’s so powerful, Eddie. I don’t know what we’re going to do.”
“I’ll see what arrangements I can make. I’ll put up a good fight at the very least.”
Steve wanted to say- We! We’ll put up a good fight!- But he didn’t think his late show of support would carry much weight with the vampire now. Instead he concentrated on the first part of Eddie’s statement.
“What does that mean? Shouldn’t we just hide you or something?”
“I have an idea, if this Henry will agree to it.”
“And you’re going to do what? Negotiate with him?”
“I’m going to do the best I can with what I have. Send his number to this phone.” Eddie paused before adding. “See you soon, Steve.” Before hanging up.
Steve stared down at the blank screen wondering how the hell they were going to get out of this. He hoped Jane had something up her sleeve.
“Was that your vampire on the phone then?” Wayne prodded.
Steve didn’t bristle at the use of your vampire like he might have before.
He was tired of denying the truth, even to himself.
Look at where it had gotten him.
Look at what he’d done in his denial.
Steve nodded, throat tight. He owed Wayne an explanation, he knew that.
He started to try and talk but Wayne stopped him.
“I think I got the general idea of it, son. You don’t need to explain yourself to me.”
The older man paused, keeping his eyes on the road while he dug through his center console. He pulled out an old pack of cigarettes and shook one out, steering with his knee for a moment as he lit it. Wayne hadn’t smoked for years.
“Did I ever tell you I was adopted?”
“No…” Steve had no idea where this was coming from, or where it could possibly be going, but he wasn’t going to question the man.
“Yep.” Wayne nodded, smiling a little and gesturing with the cigarette as he spoke. “Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, the folks who raised me, they couldn't have any kids of their own. They had these neighbor’s, the Munsons, who were blessed with seven children, including a little surprise newborn me 5 years after their last. They were struggling as it was without one more mouth to feed, so the Thompson's took me in, adopted me and raised me as their own.”
Munson?
As in, Eddie Munson?
“What are you saying, Wayne?”
“I’m saying, I did a little research on my family tree, my birth family, and it turns out that your Eddie is my many-times great uncle. He didn’t have any kids of his own before he died, er well, before he was turned, but his brother did.”
“I don’t know what to say, I'm so sorry. I-”
“It’s alright. You didn’t know, and what’s done is done. I can’t really blame you for how you feel, and there was a time when I probably would have done the same thing as you. I’m not telling you all this to make you feel guilty, I’m telling you so you’ll understand that there is no way in hell you’re convincing me to sit this one out. Your Eddie might not know it, but he's my family, and I take care of my own.”
“Even though he’s a vampire?”
Wayne shrugged, peering at him sideways with a meaningful look. “Nobody’s perfect.”
Steve got the feeling they weren’t talking about his family tree any more.
Wayne blew a long plume of smoke out the window and glanced at him again. “You still think your feelings for him aren’t real?”
“Even if they were, there's a big difference between accepting the fact that your partner leaves dirty dishes in the sink or refuses to take out the trash, and accepting that they, y’know– drink blood and kill people.”
“You sure he’s killed?”
Steve gave Wayne his own look then, feeling mildly justified for it. “He’s several hundred years old and a master vampire so I'm gonna say yeah, probably."
“Okay, fair enough, but, you’ve killed too.”
“That’s different.” Steve said, immediately defensive.
“Is it?”
Was it different? Steve let himself think about it, really think about it for the first time, but how could he really judge? He didn’t know anything about Eddie’s past, had never bothered to ask. He hadn’t thought it mattered. He just assumed all these bad things about him based solely on the fact that he was a vampire.
“Okay, fine. But there's still the marks to consider and-”
“Listen, I get it Steve. Really I do, but wouldn’t it be a shame to throw away something like that if there’s a chance that it is real?”
Steve looked away. He had to. He stared out the window and watched the world go by at 70 miles an hour and wondered what he’d given up by being so close-minded. “I don’t think it matters anymore.” He muttered softly.
He had tried to get Eddie killed, and unless a miracle happened it was likely that the vampire would die at Henry’s hands. And at Steve’s by extension.
It was a hell of a time for him to start accepting his feelings, the same moment Eddie was no doubt learning to hate him in return. They might all be dead in the next twenty-four hours anyway, so maybe now wasn’t the time to be thinking about it
Wayne’s expression turned grim. “Where are we headed?”
“The Corroded Coffin.”
Steve made one more phone call before they arrived at the theater. He agonized over the idea for a few short minutes, but ultimately decided they needed all the help and firepower they could get.
He didn’t exactly trust Nancy, not after she spied on him and who knows what else, but there just weren’t that many people he knew who could go up against the monsters and win. He also knew that as much as she liked to pretend she was in this business for the money, it meant more to her than that. Nancy liked knowing she was helping people, saving people, something she hadn’t been able to do for her childhood friend.
Once he had explained what was going on, and what the city stood to lose if Eddie fell, she was fully on board, contract be damned.
Nancy had a room in the city, so she arrived at the same time he and Wayne did, and the three of them walked in together.
The whole place was fully decked out for Halloween, or more specifically for Mischief Night, or Devil’s Night as it said in dripping letters on the marquee. Even the venue’s sign had been changed for the event. A giant blood splattered sheet had been hung over it, emblazoned with the words “Hellfire Club” and a crude devil’s head logo that all looked like it had been painted by hand.
It was meant to look as though the theater had been taken over by a Satanic Cult for the night, but really it was just a show like any other. With themed cocktails, of course. The flyers for the party advertised all sorts of entertainment, from musical acts, to chainsaw jugglers, contortionists, and fire-eaters. The grand finale was to be a ritual “sacrifice” to the Devil himself.
They had to fight through a thick crowd just to make it in the doors. Steve couldn’t believe how busy it was. Only a few nights ago people had been running out of here screaming after the giant cobra had eaten its trainer. Now it was as if it never happened. Was good entertainment really that hard to come by?
Steve led the way as the three of them pushed inside. He wondered briefly if he would have to seek Eddie out, or if Max or someone else would be waiting for him, but as he crossed the threshold he heard Eddie whisper through his mind.
‘Steve?’
Even as nothing more than a disembodied voice in his head, Eddie still managed to make him shiver.
‘I’m here.’
Steve couldn’t help saying the words out loud at the same time he spoke them in his head, pushing them down the long path of their new connection. For a moment he could feel Eddie’s relief brush up against his own before the vampire’s voice sounded again.
’Meet me backstage, use the door we took to get to the snake. Hurry, there's not much time.’
Steve had stopped dead in his tracks, gripping on to Wayne’s arm as he listened, the press of bodies around them threatening to send him off balance. It was his own fault, if he hadn’t ignored these powers for so long he would be used to this kind of stuff by now and it wouldn't be so disorienting.
Wayne seemed to have caught on to what was happening but Nancy was looking at him curiously. Thankfully, she didn’t ask, just kept her head down and followed the two men as Steve pulled Wayne along behind him.
He had so many questions, but for once he didn’t stop to argue with the vampire or second guess him. If Eddie said hurry, Steve would hurry. He had no doubt he would find out what was going on soon enough.
There were two men standing on either side of the door that would lead them backstage. It took a moment for Steve to realize he recognized them, a pair of the werewolves that had fought side-by-side with him against the snake only a few nights ago. He waited for their snarls, sure that they and everyone here who called Eddie master would know what he had done, but the wolves only gave small nods of recognition and moved aside so that he and his guests could pass by.
Steve took a moment to gather himself before pushing the door open.
Eddie was in there.
Steve could feel him just on the other side, the vampire's power calling to his own, pulsing like a beacon in the dark. He took a deep breath, and prepared to face him.
The wings were filled with vampires and wereanimals, all dressed for the occasion and whatever acts they were set to be a part of tonight. Steve recognized most of them. Jeff, Argyle, and Dustin of course. The rats were all there too, Gareth and Will, his brother and their mom, Joyce, with her first aid kit once again slung over her shoulder, Grant and a few others whose name’s he didn’t know.
There was the dark skinned brother and sister pair who were once again hanging out near Max. When last he met them Steve could’t place what they were, could only feel their otherworldly energy but now he knew instantly that they were werewolves too. His power could now recognize them and their tie to Eddie.
In fact, he could feel the way they were all tied to him, could feel their loyalty to Eddie like an invisible brand and by extension to Steve as well.
If he concentrated, he could sense their people in his mind, could shuffle through them like a deck of cards.
For the wolves, he felt the steady beat of each of their pulses as though his fingers were pressed to their skin. Little flickering flames that represented the lives of each vampire who owed allegiance to them.
The rats were different, he couldn't feel them in that way, as they had no mystical bond with Eddie but they were allies, maybe even friends. That much he could discern.
It was all too much, and Steve slammed his shields harder into place. He didn’t deserve to hold these people's lives in his hands like that. He didn’t deserve to feel connected to them this way. He certainly didn’t deserve to think of himself and Eddie as if they were one, not now.
When he was no longer overwhelmed by his new abilities, Steve’s eyes found Eddie right away, and as usual the sight took his breath away.
Tonight Eddie was not just the owner of the theater, but the star of the show. The leader of the Hellfire Club turned satanic cult. He was dressed for the role, looking every bit the 80’s metalhead persona that he was trying to embody. He wore his hair down and a little more wild than he usually kept it. His black jeans were tight and ripped at the knee giving a peak of pale skin as he moved. He wore a black and white raglan shirt with the same artwork that could be seen outside printed on the front of it. A black leather jacket and an old school battle vest had been thrown over the whole thing to complete the ensemble.
It should have looked ridiculous, and on anyone else it might have, but Eddie made it work somehow. Steve hadn’t even known he was into the bad boy look, but as he stared at the vampire he felt as if he had stepped into another one of his wet dreams.
If only.
Eddie was looking back at him with just as much intensity, though his expression was unreadable. For the first time Steve wished he could feel what the vampire was feeling, to know if all of that simmering want had truly turned to hatred and disgust. He even found himself following the connection, the thread that he imagined joining the two of them together, but he was met with empty air. Eddie was shielding too, and hard.
They stared at each other unmoving for what felt like forever but couldn't have been more than a few blinks when Steve felt a little push on his back.
Wayne.
It made him take an involuntary step forward and he used that momentum to carry him closer until finally he and Eddie were face to face. Steve reached for something, anything to say. He opened his mouth, closed it again. Nothing was right, nothing was enough.
Eddie came to his rescue, again.
“Thank you, Steve, for coming, and for bringing your… friends. I’m afraid we need all the help we can get.”
“What’s happening?” Steve asked.
“Henry and I made a deal, a sort-of compromise. He agreed to battle this out with me face-to-face as long as I agreed to let the fight happen on stage in front of the public as part of the show tonight, so the masses can see what vampires are really like.”
“But, all those people, we can’t put them in danger like that.”
Eddie took Steve gently by the wrist and led him away from the rest of the group all the way past the backdrop curtain. He looked back at Wayne, concerned about leaving him alone with all these powerful strangers but the older man just gave him a nod of encouragement. He’d be fine, even now Nancy was introducing him to Dustin and Steve could see the instant fondness in Wayne's smile.
Steve wasn’t sure where they were going until Eddie opened a door that was all but hidden in the wall. It was a small storage room that mostly seemed to house different color curtains and backdrops and even a few small setpieces. Eddie waved him inside and shut the door behind them, resting his back against it as he finally replied.
“There were very few choices available to me. I raised the same concerns with your former ally and did my best to negotiate on behalf of our human audience. Henry has agreed that the bloodshed will be limited to those who join the fight on the stage.” Eddie spoke softly and Steve realized why he moved them. He didn’t want to be overheard. Something about that fact felt ominous.
Steve kept his voice low as well, aware that almost everyone outside the closet had supernatural hearing. “And you trust that he’ll follow that?”
“He gave his word, and whatever you might believe about vampires we don’t give it lightly. I think he will do what he says. He has also pledged to limit his use of certain powers. He could very likely bring this whole building down around us with a simple thought, but even he agreed that the humans would never blame that on vampires and that wouldn’t exactly help meet his goal.“
“Do we have any hope of winning here? Can we beat him?”
Eddie bowed his head for a moment then looked up at Steve with a sad smile, eyes swimming with something akin to grief as he stepped closer and reached up to tuck a stray hair behind Steve's ear.
“We.” Eddie said, laughing a little bit at himself. “For months I’ve longed to hear you refer to us as a we. I only wish it hadn’t taken such extremes to get there.” Eddie leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. “We will do our best, but I fear even that will not be enough.”
Steve couldn’t take it anymore. He didn't understand. “Why aren't you mad at me? You should hate me for what I did.”
“I could never hate you, sweetheart. I’ve always understood why you felt the way you did, I just held out hope that one day you’d change your mind. That you might, with time, understand me too and be able to accept me and the way I feel for you.”
Steve froze. “The way you felt about me, you mean? I betrayed you, tried to kill you. Surely that has…changed things.”
Eddie dropped his shields then. Not all the way, he didn’t want to overwhelm Steve, he just wanted him to taste the truth in his words. Steve knew all of that in a split second, just as he knew suddenly and without a doubt that to Eddie, this was real. It always had been. The physical attraction was there, intense and undeniable, but nestled in tightly against it was the warmth and sweetness of love. It was all laid out for him, clear as crystal. Eddie wanted Steve in every way it was possible to want another person. Mind, body, and soul.
He saw himself through Eddie’s eyes, and couldn’t believe anyone could see him like that.
As he withdrew from Steve and pulled his shields back into place, Eddie pressed a hand over his own heart like he could feel all that emotion making its way back home to be locked up tight once more.
“How could I ever feel anything but love for you, my beautiful stubborn boy.”
“Eddie, I…”
There was a knock on the door and Dustin called out from the other side of it. “I”m sorry to interrupt but, they’re here, Eddie. It’s time.” The kid’s voice shook and Steve wondered if he knew how doomed they all were.
Eddie smiled sadly at Steve. “Hold that thought, sweetheart. Whatever it is, you can tell me later, if we survive this.”
He turned to leave and Steve couldn't let that be it. Couldn’t let that be their last moment alone together if this all went south. From one breath to the next Steve let his mental walls turn to rubble and fall to the ground. Gone were the massive barriers that once stood tall between them. He’d left a crack open before, enough to hear Eddie whisper through his mind, to receive whatever Eddie might send his way but now he was wide open. Not only to Eddie but to himself. He finally opened the box, letting out all the things he’d been shoving down deep inside since the first time he laid eyes on the vampire in front of him.
Steve saw the moment it hit Eddie, all of it, how he really felt about him.
The fear was still there.
The fear of what Eddie was. The fear of losing himself to the marks. The fear of his feelings not being real, the fear if they were.
His ever present want for Eddie was there too. The desire he felt for the other man was intense, palpable, like candy on the tongue. Eddie was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, something he couldn't quite believe that he was allowed to touch.
In the middle of it all was a love that had spread like wildflowers, growing and blooming since day one, no matter how hard he fought it.
Steve grabbed Eddie by the arm and spun him back around, surging forward to crash their lips together. He used his grip on the vampire to tug him closer, until the front of their bodies were pressed tightly together. Eddie grabbed on to him too, throwing his arms around Steve's shoulders as the kiss turned desperate. Steve wound a hand into all that dark curly hair and couldn’t believe it was the first time he’d ever let himself do it. A pained sound escaped him as he realized It might also be the last.
Steve didn’t break the kiss until he was out of breath and had no choice but to pull away as a sob forced its way out of his throat. A tear spilled over, escaping his eye to roll down his cheek. Eddie cupped his face on either side and kissed it away.
Eddie rested his forehead against Steve’s. There was so much to say, but they were out of time.
“Promise me something?” Eddie whispered, his breath ghosting over Steve’s lips with the question.
“Anything.”
“If it comes down to it… if I… I need you to build those shields up again. Higher and thicker than ever before. Cut yourself off from me as thouroughly as you can, it’ll be your best chance and I… I can’t stand the thought of you feeling me die or of pulling you down with me.”
Steve let out another sob that shook his entire body. He didn’t want this. He wanted to argue, he wanted to rage, he wanted to scream that no, he would be there to the very end. He would not abandon Eddie to be alone in his final moments on this earth.
But Eddie had asked him to promise, this is what he wanted, and Steve had said anything. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak as more tears streamed down his face. Eddie kissed them all away as if he could drink down the very sorrow that caused them and eliminate it.
It was time to open the curtain, and everyone took their places.
There were two raised platforms on either side of the stage facing each other, with a large open space in between interrupted only by the sacrificial stone altar which sat dead in the center of everything.
Eddie took to the platform on their side, Henry on the other, both alone on their daises with their respective armies on the stage below.
At first glance it would seem as though Henry were severely outnumbered. He had only Owens, Jane, and Angela on his side, along with her band of teenage vampires. Four of them total, the two boys Steve and Wayne had faced on the road and another girl with dark hair that he hadn’t seen before, a contrast to Angela’s bleach blonde.
Perhaps the strangest thing though was the fact that they were all in costume. It was nearly Halloween and they were supposed to be putting on a show so Steve supposed it made some sense.
Henry himself was dressed as a southern pastor. His white dress shirt and its high collar were paired with a black jacket, pants, and wide brimmed hat. The visual was striking though of course he carried no bible and wore no cross or rosary. It was the perfect antithesis to Eddie’s Devil worshiper persona.
Owens was made up as Frankenstein’s monster and Jane had gone meta in a very classic and childlike witch’s costume. All of the vampires were all done up in 50’s poodle skirts and greaser jackets, with high ponytails, and slicked back hair respectively.
Eddie’s side of the stage, their side, was comparatively packed.
Steve, Wayne, and Nancy had all suited up in various bits of leather, denim, and metal with as many weapons as each could carry strapped to their bodies. They were dressed as what they were, vampire hunters. Dustin, Jeff, and a few others wore the same Hellfire Club shirts as Eddie, playing the parts of fellow members of the cult. The rest of the home team looked a little like circus performers, lots of spandex and glitter, whatever they had put on for the acts they’d been planning to perform before the show had turned into a war.
Eddie raised a microphone to his lips and with nothing but a subtle clearing of his throat managed to silence the crowd.
As hundreds waited with bated breath, he sent his power through the throngs of spectators, and Steve was along for the ride. He felt Eddie’s influence even as he was unaffected by it. He projected calm into the audience with the suggestion for everyone to remain in their seats no matter what they might see or hear tonight. It was all just a show, after all. It wasn’t done with words, it was a feeling, a planted instinct. Most people wouldn’t even know it was happening but they would follow the subconscious hint to the tee.
“Welcome to Hellfire!” Eddie raised his arm high above his head as he belted the words out.
The crowd went wild. Applause, shouts, and whistles could be heard all around the theater, with many of the patrons even screaming Eddie’s name.
He hushed the crowd and again they complied almost instantly. “You have all come here for a party this evening, for a show unlike any other and I'm sorry to say that our plans for you have changed.”
There were a few grumbles of disappointment, but not much. Apparently the audience trusted that Eddie knew what he was doing, maybe even thought that this was all planned.
“Fear not my friends because tonight you will see something even more entertaining, more dangerous and terrifying than any act of fire or blades. Tonight you will bear witness to a battle for your very lives and for the soul of this city that we all call home.”
He paused again, seeming to bask in the applause that rolled over him from the adoring masses. Steve knew better. He was still wide open to Eddie, and Eddie to him, and he could feel the fear, panic, and dread that threatened to overwhelm him even as he put on this act for everyone else. Eddie looked down from his place on the platform and caught Steve's eye. They exchanged no words, no whispers in the mind, it would hurt too much. But it was there plainly in Eddie's eyes.
Hopelessness.
He looked away from Steve and back out into the crowd as he finished his speech.
“On this, our beloved Devil’s night, the monsters of this city will fight to the death to retain control of it. If we win, then life as you know it will carry on as peaceful as before. If our enemies win, there will be chaos and bloodshed in the streets. They will feed on every innocent human in this city until they are drained dry and lifeless.”
Thunderous applause spread through the theater again. Steve couldn't believe people were buying this, couldn’t they feel the tension on stage?
A second microphone appeared. This one in Henry’s hands as he took his own turn to address the audience. “Tonight, humans, you will learn a valuable lesson. Vampires cannot be tamed, and the monsters are not your friends. It was foolish to think that you could live next to us in peace without consequences. We are dangerous, we are killers, and we will destroy all of you if you let us in. By the end of the night I believe you will all wish to return to the days where creatures like us were hunted, forced to hide in the dark. Please believe me when I say, I am doing all of this for your own good. You will all die someday, would it not be better for your deaths to mean something? To contribute to a better life for future generations?”
The applause was a little more scattered this time, some folks were confused on how to react to the strangers words. Steve turned away, he couldn’t worry about the crowd anymore, didn't want to watch himself fail through the audience's eyes or see their reactions to the very real carnage that was about to happen.
Nothing after the speeches had been planned. It was a battle like any other. Wild and violent.
And they were losing.
In the beginning Steve had run around like a madman, trying to keep his eye on everyone he cared about most all at once, but it was impossible to keep them all in his sights. He was unsurprised to see that Wayne had taken up a post next to Dustin. The kid was a vampire, but an inexperienced fighter. Between the two of them though, with Dustin’s power and Wayne’s skill, Steve had to let it go, and trust that they could keep each other alive.
He lost track of Nancy next, she was taking on Jake and Chad at the same time and had just managed what Steve hoped was a killing blow on one of them when the other female vampire, the one with the dark hair, tackled her and the two disappeared having rolled past the many other one-on-one and two-on-one fights that were happening all across the space.
Steve himself had taken a special interest in Angela. Apart from Henry, she was the most dangerous thing on the stage and therefore his number one target. Jane might have given her a run for her money given the chance, but the young girl was still playing at being on Henry’s side for now.
She was going easy on them though, Steve could tell. He watched her just long enough to make sure she wouldn't hurt any of his people and realized that she wasn’t attacking anyone so much as defending herself when one of the wolves or rats got too close. He had thought about warning Eddie and the others that the witch was on their side but he was afraid of blowing her cover too soon.
Steve managed to hold his own against Angela far better than he had the last time, no doubt having the third mark to thank for that, but somewhere along the line he got distracted by a slashing pain in his chest. He looked down expecting to see himself sliced up and bloody, but he was fine, and Angela wasn’t even holding a blade.
He looked up at Eddie’s platform just in time for it to happen again. The front of Eddie’s shirt had been sliced open, revealing the wounds underneath. This time Steve saw as well as felt it when whatever power that was cutting him like an invisible knife split his skin open again, sending blood spurting from his chest.
Confused, Steve looked to Henry and found him focused on Eddie with a hand thrown out in front of him, curled like a claw. The air between them shimmered with power, like heat coming off a raging fire. Steve was working on nothing but gut instinct as he raised his own hand in a mirror of Henry’s and directed every inch of hate he had at the other man. He mimicked Henry’s own motions, copied his use of power and felt a surge of triumph when he saw red blossom across the ancient vampire's chest.
He hadn’t known he could do that.
His victory was short lived as a second later he found himself falling to the ground with Angela on top of him. She stared down as she held him in place. He struggled in her hold but as strong as he now was, still she was stronger. He didn’t understand what was happening at first, she wasn’t trying to hurt him, just keep him there. Then her eyes burned with hazel fire. He looked into them defiantly, he was three marks in and very confident that she couldn’t roll him anymore, but that wasn’t what she was trying to do. The two points of light grew larger and moved closer to Steve’s face though Angela herself hadn’t moved.
He suddenly remembered the car, all those months ago when similar lights appeared in the color of Eddie’s eyes and had moved towards him in much the same way.
No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening.
No matter how hard Steve twisted and bucked and screamed in her face, he couldn’t get away from the blonde menace above him.
When her second mark hit him, Steve knew he was in deep shit. He felt his connection to Eddie dull, like the volume had been turned down, and he had the desperate urge to check on him. He resisted, because he knew it would be stupid to look away from the threat currently pinning him to the floor.
Because Angela wasn’t done with him. It sounded silly in retrospect but he’d almost expected her to let him go when the second mark was done. Before he could even react she had swooped down and sunk fangs into the side of his neck.
Steve had been unconscious when Eddie gave him the third mark, yet somehow he knew that was exactly what Angela was doing to him now. She drank but she didn’t take from him. It was an exchange. As she sipped his blood it was replaced in turn by her power and his body vibrated with it.
For a second he could feel both vampires in his head equally. If he had thought it was disorienting before, when he only held one other presence in his mind, this was a million times worse. He had no sense of himself, or where he was in relation to the world. For a terrifying moment he couldn’t feel his physical body at all.
When Steve came back to himself, Eddie was screaming his name. He opened his mouth to reply, to scream back, but suddenly he had a mouthful of bloody fingers. Somewhere in all this Angela had managed to bleed herself and she was force feeding it to him now.
A few drops and that was all it took. The fourth mark clicked into place and Eddie was lost to him for good. In his place was the twisted mind of a girl who had died young and yet had also lived for far too long.
Finally she let Steve go, believing that with the fourth mark he was now hers. With them bound together for eternity she was confident that he would fall in line. Steve worked to control his thoughts, his feelings, at the same time he started to rebuild his walls piece by piece.
Angela stood and offered him a hand up. He accepted it and even thanked her. He would have to be nicer to her now that they were tied. He would never grovel and apologize and he could feel that she didn't want him to. She liked that he had his pride, but he would have to prove himself to her somehow.
Now that Steve was on his feet he could see that Eddie had been brought down from his place on his platform and was being laid out across the stone table in the center of the stage. He was covered in blood and didn’t fight back. He was barely alive, and though Henry and Owens stood over him on either side, they didn't even bother to hold him down.
“What’s going on?” Steve asked Angela, though the answer was obvious.
“You will stake Eddie through the heart of course! To show the world how well Henry can control something that once belonged to him.”
“What?”
“Henry thinks he can control you through controlling me.”
Steve could feel how angry she was at the idea. She hated that Henry was stronger than her, more powerful. She'd gotten his far, and for what? Still living under the thumb of a man. She didn't want to be his ally and was only with him because she was afraid of him.
It gave Steve an idea that he was careful not to think all the way through. Angela smiled at him brightly, reading his plan in his thoughts, and the two of them walked to the table together.
“Steve.” Henry greeted him warmly. “Don’t worry, you are already forgiven for your cold feet. It’s understandable. I have to say, it is lovely to see you accepting your new place with us so readily. Come, I have one more task for you.” Henry held out a stake, intricately carved out of hardwood with vines and roses etched all over it, and handed it to Steve.
“You have gotten what you wanted. Angela has freed you from your old master. Now, all that is left to do is finish him off so that we can return the world to the way that it was meant to be.”
Steve gripped the stake tightly in his fist as he moved to the other side of the table, placing himself next to Owens so he could look Eddie in the eye one last time. The vampire’s once beautiful face was badly battered and bruised, but still he smiled when Steve’s face came into view.
Steve’s own expression was impassive, his mind carefully blank save for one thought.
He raised the stake high above his head and brought it down hard, angling it at the last second to send it not into Eddie’s chest, but Owens’.
Steve’s aim was true and the point of the stake sank home. Owens toppled backwards and Steve rode to the floor with him, pushing the wood in further and twisting, not letting up until the only thing coming out of the man's mouth were gurgles of blood.
He left the stake in place and drew one of the long knives that had been strapped to his back. He rounded on Henry ready for a fight, but he found it wasn’t necessary.
Henry was staring at Owens, watching as he died on the floor and was clearly struggling, likely using all of his power to try and keep himself from going down with his servant. Steve had used the same tactic with Billy. Killing Heather had made her master easier to take down. But Henry was far more powerful than Billy could have ever dreamed of being.
Luckily Jane was there using her own magic to hold the ancient vampire in place and dampen his abilities. Angela joined her, using her physical strength to drive Henry to his knees as Steve approached. He thought only of killing Henry as he shoved the blade through the blonde man’s chest. He pulled the knife out only to shove it back in swiftly again at a different angle, to make sure that the heart was completely destroyed.
“You did it!” Angela squealed. “I knew you could do it! Together we will be unstoppable!”
Steve smiled at her and thought of what he would have to do to make sure Henry stayed dead, removing his head, burning his body and maybe even scattering the ashes. He imagined all of that as he locked eyes with Jane, praying she would understand what he was about to do and help the others when it was done.
He removed the knife from Henry’s chest one more time, but instead of slamming it back in, he kicked the man’s weakened form out of the way and stuck it between Angela's ribs all in one fluid motion.
He felt searing pain in his own chest as the blade sliced through her heart, but he didn’t let up, he didn’t stop. He stabbed her over and over until he could no longer feel the handle in his hand over the screaming agony in his body. The mental walls he had been trying to rebuild without Angela’s notice were woefully inadequate to shield him from this.
He remembered his promise to Eddie and tried to keep rebuilding them. Eddie had thought that if Steve shielded hard enough he might survive. But that had been with three marks, not four. Still, he tried. He didn’t want to die, but if that was the price he had to pay to protect those he loved, he would do it gladly.
Steve opened his eyes, unaware that he’d even closed them and found that he was lying on the ground writhing in paint next to Angela's prone body.
He looked around wildly trying to find Eddie. He had to tell him before he died. He had to tell him so many things. That he was sorry, he was so sorry. Had he ever really apologized? He couldn’t remember, everything was getting fuzzy around him, blurry.
Something landed hard close to him. Steve tried to turn his head and look, it was a struggle but he managed and was so grateful when he did because it was him.
It was Eddie.
He’d rolled himself off the stone table trying to get to Steve and was even now crawling closer.
“Steve!” Eddie’s voice was weak and it broke on the single word.
Steve wished they could still whisper through each other's minds, so he could tell him…
“... ’m sorry.” Steve choked out.
He could feel himself fading fast. He was so cold.
“Don’t.” Eddie said, coughing up blood in the process.
“I…” Steve tried to force the words but they wouldn’t come.
He felt a hand on his forehead, and another come to rest on his chest. He couldn’t bring himself to care who it was. Wouldn’t dream of looking away from Eddie at this moment.
It was growing all dark around him but there was a warmth growing in his chest that was soothing and pleasant. He realized that at some point the pain had stopped too.
He felt like he was floating.
Steve’s eyes fell closed, he wasn’t strong enough to keep them open any more.
There was a lot of shouting. He couldn’t understand a word but he hoped everyone else was okay.
The last thing he felt before he passed out was a cool hand sliding into his, fingers entwined.
Chapter 17 (final)
Thanks forever to @penny00dreadful for being the best friend, cheerleader, and beta in the whole fucking world💜
#steddie fanfic#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#vampire eddie munson#vampire hunter steve harrington#steddie#ao3#steve x eddie#steve harrington/eddie munson#steddie fic#ao3 fanfic#steve harrington: vampire hunter
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
You're Sitting in my Seat!
Oneshot Masterlist - Main Masterlist
POV: Second
Ship: Loki x Y/n
Type: Fluff
Wordcount: 1,500
TW: None
Synopsis: You accidentally sit in Loki's seat at a movie theater
You grab a handful of buttery popcorn and shove it into your mouth, savoring the taste. Movie theater popcorn was the best. It was like the Mcdonald's sprite of movie theaters! You were at the movies getting ready to watch a new film that you had been dying to see.
You had fairly good seats, as you were able to pre-book. You liked to sit near the middle, not too close, not too far; the Goldie Locks of theater seating. One of the perks of the pandemic that seems to still haunt the world.
You didn't, however, realize that you had sat down in seat 5E instead of 5D. So, when another person came looking for their seat, they had trouble figuring out where they were supposed to sit.
"5A...5B...5C...5D...5E." The stranger muttered under his breath as he came to a stop in front of your seat. You made eye contact with him as you took a sip of your slushee. Sluuuurp
"Excuse me miss, I think your in my seat." The stranger said, running a hand through his raven-colored hair.
Your face turned red as you looked on your ticket stub and back at your seat number. "Ohmygodimsosorry!" You say, quickly getting up and moving to the left one, sitting in seat 5D this time.
The man chuckled and waved it off. "Don't worry about it." He said with a smile. You nodded in appreciation as the 'silence your cellphone' ad came up onto the screen for the fifth time.
"I'm Y/n, what's your name?" You ask the man, who had sat down in his seat. "Loki." He said simply, eyeing your popcorn.
"Want some?" You offer, and he looked at you weird. "What is it?" He asked, and your jaw dropped in disbelief. How could someone not know what popcorn was?!
"You've never had popcorn?!" You ask, shocked. Loki shook his head. "I'm new to the area." He said simply, as if it wasn't a big deal. "New to the area? Popcorn is popular everywhere!" You say, chuckling at the end of your sentence. 'Popcorn' and 'popular' sounded very similar.
Loki bit his lip and looked at the ground before looking back at you. "I guess you could say..." He broke into a smile "... That I'm out of this world." You burst out into laughter at the cheesy line, and he joined in.
"So, where are you from Mr. Alien." You inquired, smiling at the last two words. Loki hesitated "Asgard." He said, and you laughed, thinking it was a joke.
"What, so you're like, Loki the God of mischief?" You joked, but Loki's face was serious. "Well, yes, that's exactly right." He said, and you looked at him shocked.
"No freaking way! So you're really from another realm?!" You asked excitedly, recalling some of the mythology books you had read.
Loki nodded, and you smiled at him. "That's so cool. What was it like? Asgard, I mean." You ask him, eager to learn more about the places that you could only ever dream to see.
"Well, there's a big rainbow bridge leading out of the bifrost and to the castle. The castle is made out of mostly gold and is enormous. Me and Thor always would stumble upon new rooms and pathways as kids. In fact, I stumbled upon another library that I hadn't known existed just my last visit to Asgard." Loki said, reminiscing in his past adventures with Thor.
You envisioned Asgard in your mind. You wondered what it would feel like to stand there on that golden bridge, to look up and see a gleaming gold castle towering above you.
Loki looked at your face and noticed how your eyes had lit up when he spoke of Asgard. He took in the way your e/c eyes complimented your h/c hair. He had noticed earlier the cute faces you made when talking to him, and he couldn't help but find you adorable.
As you slowly came out of your daydreaming, you saw Loki's eyes gazing into yours. You took a second to just look at him for a moment. His black hair fell just below his shoulders, and his green eyes sparkled like emeralds in sunshine. You took in his perfect jawline and found yourself checking him out.
Loki cleared his throat, but not until after he was done taking his time checking you out. A blush arose to your face as you realized you had just been caught checking this guy out.
Your gaze snapped back to his, and he gave you a cheeky smile. "Like what you see?" He teased, and you rolled your eyes, feeling your cheeks burn up.
"Whatever you say, Mischief." You tease him back, and at first he looks surprised, but quickly takes on his mischievous persona. "Nicknaming now, are we darling?" He said, and you felt a definite change in the theaters temperature. The theater must have turned up the heat!
Just then, the movie started to play. You were a bit sad that you had to end your conversation with Loki, but you also were relieved. You weren't sure how much more of this guy you could take before you would melt to the ground.
You focused on the large screen as the vibrant colors lit up the cinema. It felt like you were being sucked into the movie, becoming the characters. Loki, on the other hand, kept glancing back at you as you watched intently.
-Time skip-
You were in tears an hour into the movie. The main character's best friend had just died, and you felt it leave a wound in your heart.
You knew it was just acting, but it still hurt. Of course, sometimes you just need a good cry, and movies can do that sort of thing to you. At least, that's what the Greeks thought with their early conceptions of theater.
Loki noticed you crying and frowned. "What's wrong?" He asked, wondering why you were crying.
"They killed Penny! That's so sad! If Jenny hadn't opened that letter, Penny never would've died!" You sobbed, cursing the writers for killing Penny. You had grown fond of her character and were devastated that the writers killed her off.
"Sometimes characters have to die for people to change." Loki suggested, but that didn't bring you any comfort, and he noticed, putting a hand on your shoulder. "Let's watch and see how it plays out."
You tensed at first when his hand came to your shoulder, but then relaxed into his hand, turning your attention back to the movie.
-Another short time skip-
After the movie was over, you were in more tears. At least they were happy tears now. Loki was right, Penny needed to die for Jenny to change. Without that death the way it happened, Jenny would have continued her life in drugs and debt. Jenny was able to make something out of herself, and continued Penny's legacy.
You were walking right beside Loki as you threw your empty popcorn bucket and drink into the trash bin.
"So, did you like how the movie ended?" He asked, and you nodded with a smile. "You were right, without Penny dying Jenny wouldn't have changed." You replied, and he smiled back at you.
You narrowed your eyes at him. "How did you know that anyway? Did you use your magic alien powers?" You tease, and he chuckles. "I don't know, I just had a feeling, you know?" He said, gazing into your eyes.
For a moment, you couldn't tell if he was talking about the movie, but you shook off that idea. You thought this man was way out of your league.
Funny, actually, because Loki thought the same way about you. He thought that someone as gorgeous as you wouldn't like a monster like him.
You two continued out into the lobby of the theater, where you stopped before the doors. "So Mr. Mischief, does someone as ancient as yourself happen to have modern earthling technology called a phone?" You asked, smiling.
Loki winked before walking out the door without a word. You were stunned, wondering why he just blew you off like that. It wasn't like you expected him to be interested in you, but you wanted to at least be friends!
Sighing, you went to brush a strand of hair out of your face, when you realized you were holding a piece of paper in your hand.
You didn't remember picking anything up, and you curiously unfolded the paper. There, written in the most perfect handwriting you had ever seen, were 10 digits, followed by a signature:
Loki
You smiled to yourself as you realized that you had not, in fact, been blown off. That trickster! You immediately saved his contact into your phone in case you lost his number, and walked out of the movie theater feeling like you were on top of the world.
A/N: Make sure to like and comment any suggestions/requests! Would love to hear some feedback :) Love ya! xx
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
Neon Lights - [ Yang Jeongin ]
🩷 SYNOPSIS : Jeongin always believed he'd meet the love of his life in a place like the movie theaters or somewhere romantic. Not in a frat party when he wasn't exactly sober. You were a sight to behold underneath the neon lights, leaving him to want more than just a taste.
GENRE : fluff, college!au, strangers to potential lovers
PAIRING : yang jeongin × f!reader
CONTENT WARNING : alcohol, swearing, frat party
WORD COUNT : 2.5K
AUTHOR'S NOTE : This is my last one-shot for the valentines collab with @stayconnecteed . I had so much fun writing these with you Mars <3
The fraternity house buzzed with energy as Yang Jeongin stepped through the doorway, his senses immediately assaulted by a cacophony of sound and a wave of heat. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and alcohol, the bass of the music reverberating through the floorboards and rattling his bones. He wasn't your average party enthusiast — the loud music, the crowded spaces, the overwhelming sensory overload always left him feeling more out of place than ever. But tonight was different. Tonight, he was determined to break free from the confines of his comfort zone, to embrace the chaos and the excitement of college life.
As he made his way through the endless crowd of college students, Jeongin couldn't help but feel a sense of anxiety mingled with anticipation. This was unfamiliar territory for him — a world of social hierarchies and unspoken rules that he had never quite managed to navigate.
His friend Changbin was the complete opposite of him. Everyone knew him as the life of any party and the starter of most. Even now, Jeongin caught sight of him playing beer pong with a couple of other guys. He was just about to go over to them squeezing past the dancing people and barely managed to keep his toes stepped on by stilettos thrice. He grabbed a cup of beer from a passing tray, trying to loosen himself up.
Amidst the sea of faces, one stood out like a beacon in the night — a girl with eyes that sparkled like stars and a smile that could light up the darkest of rooms. You moved with a grace and confidence that Jeongin found mesmerizing, your laughter cutting through the din like a melody in the chaos. He paused his movements, staying rooted in the place he was so he wouldn't lose sight of you. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as your eyes met his from across the crowded room, a silent exchange passing between the two of you like a whisper in the wind.
It was love at first sight — he knew it. He was drinking up the sight of you living your life with the dopiest smile on his face. The song that was blasting in full volume started to fade away as his vision tunneled on you and only you. He didn't know your name or what major you were in, but he was drunkenly in love. It was almost stupid to think about how hard he fell in a span of a few minutes.
With a newfound sense of purpose, Jeongin made his way towards you, his heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and nerves. He had never been one for bold gestures or grand displays of affection, but tonight felt different — tonight, he was determined to take a chance, to seize the opportunity before it slipped through his fingers.
As he reached your side, he cleared his throat, his voice barely above a whisper in the chaos of the party. “Hey,” he said, his words tinged with uncertainty. “Would you, uh, like to dance?”
To his relief, you smiled, a warm, genuine smile that made his heart soar. Sure, you reeked of beer and he knew you weren't exactly sober, but the simple act of nodding made his breath hitch. “I'd love to,” you replied, your voice soft but sure. You pulled him away from the people you were previously with and to the middle of the messing arranged dance floor. His attention was briefly diverted to Chan, another friend of his, who was currently grinding on the floor. His brows furrowed in concern and second hand embarrassment, quickly putting his focus onto you. Jeongin grabbed a cup from a person walking by with a tray, gulping it down in one go and cringed at the sting in his throat. He wasn't going to be able to do this without a little more alcohol in his system.
Your hands were a perfect fit in his as you swayed to the music. It was like second nature to you. The neon lights all around made the moment even better. The environment of the place being a frat party drowned out and it was just the two of you. He was almost jealous when a friend of yours pried you away from him and he was pushed into the chaos that he somehow managed to navigate and end up at the beer pong table.
You were on his mind the rest of the night and the following night as well. He needed to know who you were. He needed to see you. His prayers were answered when you walked into class a few days later, bag carelessly slung over your shoulder as you texted someone on your phone. How had he not seen you before? Jeongin watched you walk to a group of people he supposed were your friends.
“Jeongin —” Changbin hit his friend on his shoulder. “Can you stop gawking at Y/n and listen to what I'm saying?”
“Her name's Y/n?”
“That's your question?”
“It suits her.”
“Can you get your horny ass under control?” Jeongin glared at Changbin. His unnecessarily loud remark had caused a few heads to turn in their direction. His breath hitched when you spared him a small glance before going back to your conversation. His face burned at the thought of you hearing that sentence. “Finally. Why are you even staring at her?”
“Because…” Jeongin couldn't outright admit that he was in love with a girl he saw for five minutes at a party, right?
“Because?”
He was saved when the professor walked into the class, silencing the chattering student to some extent as he pulled papers out of his bag and began the lecture. His upcoming exams were the last thing on his mind, you occupying most of his interests ever since he laid eyes on you. Your demeanor in class was a contrast to your wild side he met with at the party. From the subtle glances he made in your direction, he couldn't believe it was the same person. The way you bit your lip as you focused on what the professor was saying, eyebrows furrowed as you scribbled something in your notebook.
Jeongin could've spent an eternity looking at you but Changbin nudged his side to get him to pay attention to what was happening in the class.
And boy was he glad he did. He wouldn't have believed it if someone told him that you would be assigned as his project partner. Jeongin felt like the luckiest man on earth when he walked out of class, and he felt even luckier when you stopped him right outside the door with a nervous smile as you asked him about when the two of you should meet for the assignment. Once a place and time was fixed, you jotted down your phone number on a post it note and gave it to him, brushing away the hair that fell in your eyes as you gave him the very same smile he fell in love with before you spun around on your heel and left.
The meeting in the library was a pivotal moment, charged with nervous energy and anticipation. Jeongin arrived early, his heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. He had spent hours preparing for this moment, meticulously gathering notes and research materials for their project. But as he waited for you to arrive, doubts began to creep into his mind.
What if you didn't show up? What if you thought he was boring or uninteresting? What if he made a fool of himself and ruined any chance of getting to know you better?
But just as he was about to give in to his fears, you walked through the library doors, your presence illuminating the dimly lit room like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds.
“Hey,” you said, your voice soft but sure as you approached him. “I'm glad you made it. Sorry I'm late. Were you waiting long?”
Jeongin felt a surge of relief wash over him as he returned your smile, his nerves melting away in the warmth of your gaze. “Hey,” he replied, his voice steadier than he had expected. “No, don't worry, I just got here.”
As you settled into your seats, a comfortable silence settled between the two of you, punctuated only by the soft rustling of pages and the occasional murmur of voices in the distance. With each passing moment, Jeongin felt himself growing more at ease in your presence, his worries fading into the background as you delved into your assignment.
But amidst the atmosphere of the library, there lingered an undeniable tension — a palpable undercurrent of attraction that neither of you could ignore. Jeongin found himself stealing glances at you whenever he thought you weren't looking, admiring the way the soft glow of the reading lamps illuminated your features, casting a halo of light around you.
And as you worked side by side, your hands brushing against each other in fleeting moments of connection, Jeongin felt his heart race with a mixture of excitement and longing. He wanted to reach out to you, to take your hand in his and never let go, but he was afraid — afraid of crossing a line, afraid of scaring you away.
But just as he was about to give in to his doubts, you spoke. “Hey, Jeongin,” you said, putting down the pen in your hand. “I know we're here to work, but... do you mind if we take a break for a minute? There's something I've been meaning to ask you.”
Jeongin felt his heart skip a beat at your words, his curiosity piqued. “Of course,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “What is it?”
You hesitated for a moment, your eyes searching his face as if trying to read his thoughts. And then, with a smile that melted his heart, she said, “Do you want to grab a bite with me? I know a place nearby that makes the best burgers, and... I'd really like to get to know you better.”
Jeongin felt his breath catch in his throat at her words, his mind reeling with disbelief. Could this be happening? Were you actually asking him out?
But as he looked into your eyes, he saw the truth reflected back at him — a truth that filled him with a warmth he had never known before.
With a smile that stretched from ear to ear, Jeongin nodded, his heart overflowing with joy. “I'd love to,” he said, his voice tinged with excitement. “Lead the way.”
The two of you strolled through the evening streets, the city lights casting a warm glow over their path as you chatted and laughed, the nervous energy from your earlier encounter giving way to a sense of ease and comfort.
As you entered the cozy little diner downtown, Jeongin couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement mingled with a hint of nervousness. You settled into a corner booth, the soft ambiance of the restaurant enveloping you like a warm embrace.
For Jeongin, the dinner was a whirlwind of emotions — a mix of excitement, anticipation, and a touch of uncertainty. He wanted to make a good impression, to show her that he was more than just a shy, awkward student — that he had depth and substance, dreams and aspirations that extended far beyond the confines of their college campus.
But amidst the nervous energy that crackled between you, there was an undeniable sense of connection — a shared understanding that transcended words and gestures. You talked about everything — your hopes and dreams, your fears and insecurities, your favorite books and movies, your most embarrassing childhood memories — until the hours slipped away like grains of sand through an hourglass.
And amidst the laughter and the shared moments, Jeongin found himself falling more deeply in love with each passing second. There was something about you — your warmth, your kindness, your unwavering optimism — that drew him in like a moth to a flame, igniting a spark within him that he never knew existed.
As they finished their meal and paid the bill, Jeongin felt a sense of contentment wash over him like a gentle tide.
“I had fun today.” He said as you stood in the cool night air, breath fogging out in front of him as he spoke in a soft tone. Earning a silence from you, he turned to see if anything was wrong but was only met with your gaze already on him, making both your cheeks turn into a rosy hue. Neither of you broke eye contact, even as he felt a magnetic pull towards you, your faces inching closer. His eyes fluttered shut as he felt your soft lips on his, a memory he'd never want to forget. It was even better than he could've ever imagined. You pulled away, shying away from him which only made him laugh, pulling you in for a tight hug.
“I'm glad you asked me to dance at that party.”
“You remember that?”
“The only thing I did.” Jeongin blushed as you said that.
“You looked beautiful in those neon lights back there.” He said in a hushed tone, so no one could overhear what he was saying except for you. “But you look absolutely enchanting underneath the moonlight.” He cupped your face and kissed you again. “We're meeting up for another study session right?”
“I don't think we're going to get much studying done.”
“I'm not opposed to the idea.” You laughed, wrapping your hand around his arm as you dragged him down the bustling streets.
©hanjsquokka | copying, translating or republishing my work is strictly prohibited
#— 🗃. valentine's collab#skz#skz imagines#stray kids#skz x reader#skz fluff#skz scenarios#yang jeongin#jeongin x reader#in x reader#jeongin fluff#stray kids fluff#stray kids x reader#jeongin imagines
143 notes
·
View notes
Text
as the seasons change
C!Technoblade x gn!reader highschool!au
Word Count: 9.1k
Pronouns: they/them
A/N: this is literally so self indulgent, i spent a whole day writing this because im going through my techno feels rn. it basically follows the story of oblivious Y/N and Techno throughout the four seasons :)
Warnings: Underaged drinking, Swearing, Smoking, Drugs (very brief)
Suggested Songs: The State of Grace, Taylor Swift/ MEET ME AT OUR SPOT, THE ANXIETY, WILLOW, Tyler Cole/ that way, Tate McRae/ Falling, Chase Atlantic/ Compass, The Neighborhood
SUMMER------------
The August air was thick with the heat of the almost-setting sun. Her rays beat down on the backs of the group of teens, and mosquitos filled the silences between them with their incessant buzzing.
A small crack of static preceded the soft sound of music, accompanied by the sharp smack of Niki and Jack’s celebratory high-five.
“Didn’t you start setting up the speaker like an hour ago?” questioned Wilbur, who was sunk into a half-broken lawn chair that he had found in the garage.
“Yeah, it would have been much faster if you had asked Techno” chimed Y/N from their place leaning against the above mentioned man’s leg.
His grunt of response was cut short by his little brother, Tommy, bursting into laughter.
“Because he’s TECHno! Get it?!”
Everyone groaned and Wilbur smacked Tommy upside the head, grumbling about “shouldn’t have let you come hang out with us”
Y/N giggled at that, but took sympathy on the boy. “Aww don’t be like that Wil, Tommy, I thought that was hilarious.”
“Don’t encourage him, Y/N” Techno leaned down to murmured to them in his low, monotonous voice.
There it was. The way he said their name! The way his calf felt under Y/N’s back! The way he whispered sentences directly to them, as if it was some closely guarded secret. It was enough to bring butterflies to their stomach as they praised whatever higher being was out there for the heat of the day covering their blush.
“It’s so fucking hot,” Fundy moaned, kicking Wilburs shin from his place lying facedown on the grass. “Can we go to the pool or something?”
His request was met with a spectrum of responses, varying from Tommy’s “YES, PLEASE WILL? PLEASE!” to Technoblades indifferent shrug.
Jack took note of Technoblades open response with a shout of laughter. “TECHNOBLADE IN THE POOL! I WOULD PAY GOOD MON-”
“I’m not getting in, dumbass.”
“Why? Scared you’ll ruin your hair?”
“No, he doesn’t want us to know he’s secretly jacked under the sixteen sweaters he wears.”
Technoblade picked up the hem of his sweatshirt, making eye contact with Niki. She has a point.
“How do you wear that in the Summer?”
“It’s n- TOMMY!!”
Shrieks of laughter follow Tommy’s water gun assault on his brother. “When did he slip away to go get those?” Y/N wondered aloud.
“WHEN ARE WE LEAVING??” Tommy asked enthusiastically.
---
A crowded minivan, a stop to pick up Tommy’s friend, and a raid of Phil’s linen closet for pool towels later, the group arrived at the neighborhood pool. The sun hung low in the horizon as people spilled out of Phil’s van and began dragging the pool toys and water guns towards the gate.
The air around the black metal bars barring their entrance to the pool seemed to quiver.
“I think Wil has the pool key.” piped Niki in response to Fundy throwing his weight against the fence.
Fundy, in turn, sprinted back to the car, where Wilbur was taking inventory of snacks (and probably hiding the best for himself).
Technoblade looked down at the two younger boys and Y/N conversing in hushed whispers. All of a sudden, they screamed out in perfect synchronization, in equally high pitched voices,
“Let me innnn! Let me in pleaseeee!”
And promptly burst into giggles. Y/N almost toppled into Techno, both from laughing and the slight weariness from the heat.
The pool noodles he was balancing beneath his arms (laden with tote bags of pool toys and towels) toppled to the ground, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was Y/N’s hand steadying themself on his chest, and the way his face began to heat up almost unbearably considering the weather.
“Oops, sorry!” they squeaked, leaning down to pick up the fallen noodles.
Technoblade was burst out of his daze by the return of his brother and Fundy, who triumphantly swiped the access card against the pad before kicking the gate wide open.
The clang of metal against the concrete pool clubhouse sent reverberating waves into the air, and everyone winced as the metal continued to drag.
Pool entrances varied, Niki, on the one hand, took her time tip-toeing into the water by the stairs, while Tubbo and Tommy almost knocked each other out crashing over the edge to the deep end.
Y/N chuckled at their antics, but seeing as they had settled on not getting wet today, they picked out a chaise in the shade and pulled a book and pen out of the small bag they had brought with them.
Technoblade watched them with almost unwavering interest, unless someone happened to look his way, in which case he would quickly turn back to his phone, scrolling aimlessly through his home screen until they turned away.
From his spot under the little roof of the clubhouse, he had an almost unobstructed view of Y/N, and how they chewed at the end of the pen they used to annotate their book. Oh how he wished he could read the little notes they scribbled in the margins, or the drawings they would surround words with when they got distracted from reading. And the way that pen dangled from their lips, their tantalizing, soft lips. Taunting him, almost. And their jewel-like, bright eyes. Always so inviting and playful; like the way they were meeting his right now-
Shit
He hadn’t realized he’d been staring that intently. A small quirk of their eyebrow and a smirk on their lips was enough to make his heart give out. But not now. Not when they were waving their hand so intently to get him to sit next to them. Pretending to ponder the decision and gather his belongings, (when in reality he was just collecting his bearings), he walked over to them.
“See! You don’t always want to be alone, Mr. I’m so antisocial and I hate everyone!” they smiled, patting the adjacent seat.
You’re the only exception, he thought, his brain screaming and pushing to let the words leave his mouth. He couldn’t though, not when they could never think of him the way that he thought of them.
So he answered with a small smile and a chuckle.
“What are you reading?”
“The Picture of Dorian Gray! Remember you said you thought I’d enjoy it?” they answered with enthusiasm, that sparkle still evident in their eyes.
It warmed his heart to know that they had taken the suggestion and committed to the book, which was admittedly a pretty tough read, because of him.
“How could I forget?”
Their smile widened and they buried their head back in the book, that cursed pen once again being squished between their plush lips.
Technoblade peered over their shoulder to see that they were nearing the middle of the book, where Dorian returns from his theater date with Basil and Henry. Feeling satisfied enough that they were invested in the story, given their gasp and furious scribbling in the margins, he felt it safe enough to stare at them under the orange-tinged glow of the sunset.
Of course, he forgot about the crowd of his friends who were nudging each other and whispering about his infatuation with you. The whispers reached Wilbur who narrowed his eyes in his twin's direction and made a mental note to ask him about it later.
Once dark hit and the water began to run a little too cold for anyone's taste, they began to wrap themselves up in towels and raid Wilburs snack stashes. The snack distribution was cut off by Wilburs phone, screen lit up with a zoomed in photo of none other than Philza.
DADZA!!! Read the contact name as Wilbur swiped the screen and held the phone between his shoulder and ear, continuing to hand out snacks.
“OI, where in fucks sake are you lot? It’s an hour past the devils ass why i…”
The rest of Phil’s screaming faded as Wilbur walked away to calm his father down.
“AN HOUR PAST THE DEVILS ASS” Y/N screamed with laughter, sending the entire group into raucous peals of giggles.
“Yep, mhhm, we’ll be there” Wilbur walked back towards the group, motioning for everyone to get in the car.
“Yes dad I know, yes, okay we will drop him off. Okay, bye” Hanging up the phone, he ushered people back into the car, holding Tubbo back by his upper arm so that he could sit with easiest access to the door.
After dropping Tubbo off, and then doubling back and driving around town to drop people off at various houses, Technoblade, Tommy and Wilbur were alone in the car with Y/N.
“Here. Here. WIL! Pull over!”
The van screeched to a halt as Y/N clambered over Tommy’s long legs, almost falling out onto the pavement. They leaned against the door of the passenger seat, thanking Wilbur and bidding farewell to the brothers. Just before they stepped away, Technoblade leaned down and kissed the crown of their head where it was leaning against his open window. Their stunned expression was lost in the dark and the window slid shut as Wilbur slammed the gas pedal to make it back in time before his dad’s curfew.
“What the fuck was that”
Technoblade gave him a glare, which lost its effectiveness when paired with the burning red blush flooding his face and neck, highlighted under the harsh white lights of the car. He turned his face away and resigned to staring out the window, the night air filtering through the small crack giving his face a little bit of relief.
“Okay at least tell me, are you together?”
“No.”
“But he likes them!” piped up Tommy from the back seat, looking up from his phone where he was playing a game.
“No I- I don’t” Damnit The crack in his voice gave it away.
Wilbur, sensing that it seemed to be more of a sensitive topic than he thought, decided to drop the subject for the time being, and Tommy was already absorbed back in his game.
The rest of the drive was spent in silence as they raced against time and the rules of Philza Minecraft.
AUTUMN----------------------
School started a few weeks after the pool night, which was followed by many late nights and summer fun by the friends, the knowledge that half of them would be away to college next year heavy in the atmosphere. To say the least, Junior year was not treating Y/N well. They were almost always working on homework, if not doing SAT prep, and they rarely went out with their friends. The only time Technoblade got to see them was during his AP Lit class, and because of it, he considered himself the luckiest man in the world. Ms. Ren’s Literature classroom was the only place Technoblade seemed to see the old Y/N, the one from over the summer who got enthusiastic over books and gave him playful punches when he was a little too mean to their friends. Now, the only Y/N he saw was a stressed, tired person who was always carrying an energy drink in one hand and a stack of homework in the other. Except for in Lit. Y/n’s eyes would brighten as they discussed the reading from the previous night and their legs would jostle Technoblades from under their shared table to show him an annotation they had made. Technoblade assumed they were just rejuvenated from the literature, never once letting the thought cross his mind that maybe, just maybe, he was part of the equation too.
On the rare occasion that they would hang out with their friends, they would be easily prone to tears and every conversation would be redirected to how tired and stressed they were. Of course, Technoblade wanted them to be happy, and felt enormous empathy for his friend in the harshest year of high school, but he had suddenly become hyper-aware that the clock was ticking on his time left with them. He was a senior this year, and while Y/N still had a year left to go, Technoblade would be on his way to college, perhaps out of the country, in less than a year. It wasn’t wrong to want to make the most of his time with them.
It didn’t help that this internal time bomb was also counting down the opportunities he had left to tell them how he felt.
-----
He decided to get to them when they were in a good mood, and more likely to say yes. After Ms. Ren had finished assigning the reading due by Monday, he turned to the beautiful person who sat next to him and muttered in a low voice,
“How’s your weekend looking?”
They looked up with a bright smile and whispered back
“I have tons of homework but I should be able to knock it out with a good day of work. Why? What do you have in mind?”
He knew this was the right time to ask you.
“Just be ready by 4pm on Saturday.”
----
Technoblade sat on the edge of his usually neat bed, now strewn with almost every sweater he owned. He was picking a stray piece of lint from the sweater nearest to him when he saw his brother walk past, then backtrack out of the corner of his eye.
“What’s got you all indecisive?” Wilbur asked, gesturing vaguely to the sweaters and random articles of clothing adorning his room.
“Wait! Is today your date with Y/N?”
“It’s not a date.” grumbled Technoblade.
“Then why are you so stressed about what to wear?” he replied with raised eyebrows.
Technoblade groaned and threw himself on top of the pile of wool on his bed. “I just need this to be perfect. Y/N needs a break, and they deserve everything to be just right.”
“And you want to impress them” sang Wilbur, now nudging Techno aside to sift through his sweaters.
Technoblades noise of indignation was muffled as Wilbur threw a cream colored sweatshirt at his face.
“What about this?”
“I couldn’t find what to wear it with.”
Wilburs sigh rang through Technoblades room as he opened the closet, now in his proper mindset as the family fashion consultant. Garment after garment was thrown in Techno’s general direction, and he leaned and reached to grab them all.
“Try that”
Technoblade walked out of the bathroom to find Wilbur rummaging through his jewelry.
“When did I say it was fine for you to go through my stuff?” asked Technoblade, shoving Wilbur away. Wilbur shrugged in response, motioning for Techno to open his hand so that he could drop his selection of rings and necklaces into his open palm.
As Wilbur walked out the door, he thought he heard a faint “thank you”, and smiled to himself.
-----
“This is elaborate”
“I’m a dynamic man Y/N.”
Y/N laughed at his response to the back seat of Technoblades car, which was filled with “supplies” for the evening.
“That outfit sure is dynamic.”
“Why?” Technoblade asked nervously, drumming slightly on the steering wheel. “Do you like it?”
“I love it! I didn’t think you could get any hotter but you somehow pulled it off!”
Realizing what they said, Y/N’s cheeks flushed a deep red and they began to pick at their flannel. As soon as Technoblades surprise wore off, and the butterflies faded back to the dull sensation that always seemed to linger when he was around them, he let out a snort of laughter. That sent both of them into a fit which continued until Technoblade hit a pothole from laughing so hard.
Y/N’s momentary fear only made them laugh harder, but Technoblade attempted to quell himself before he no longer had four functioning tires.
“Do I get to know where you’re taking me?” Y/N asked. They had driven a little ways out from the city, to the vaguely familiar areas that one only drives by when they’re leaving town.
“Yes.” He replied, slowing the car into a small parking lot. “Because we’re here.”
The pair entered the small bookshop and a bell rang overhead. The store smelled of dust and books and Technoblade saw Y/N breathing the scent in like a breath of new life. Of course, this ended up in a small coughing fit which he pulled them out of with a few pats to their upper back.
“Okay we are on somewhat of a schedule, so I need you to go get a book. Any book, and meet me back at the register in 10 minutes.” He said, grabbing them by the shoulders and making direct eye contact. “Okay, Go!”
And they both got lost in the mazes of words.
At 4:30 sharp, Y/N found Technoblade waiting for them at the register with a stiff red hardcover. He reached out for their book as they reached for their wallet.
“Tech, no, you don’t have to buy me books I can get it myself”
If for nothing else, the way they shortened the already shortened version of his name made his heart stutter, and he was overcome with the sudden urge to buy them every book in this store. But he wordlessly nodded his head ‘no’ and paid for their two books.
As they walked back to the car, Y/N admired the way his jewelry glistened in the sun. The gold necklaces contrasting against the black turtleneck he wore under his sweatshirt made them think of the summer, when his rings would shine under the sun and in the light of their almost nightly group bonfire. Technoblade opened the door for them when they got to the car, pink hair flying in his face because of the wind. Before getting in, Y/N threw their arms around his neck in a hug.
“Thanks”
They mumbled into his neck.
He blamed his pink cheeks on the cold.
-----
“Let me carry something!” Y/N argued as Technoblade led them down the path of a park a little ways away from the bookstore.
“No.” he answered, a basket and three bags dangling from his arms.
The argument continued as they made their way down the paved path, leaves crunching underneath their feet. A little ways into the walk, when the conversation had faded to discussing the latest reading assigned by Ms. Ren, Technoblade stopped Y/N by throwing a tote bag-laden arm against their chest.
“Here.”
He parted the branches that covered a small, unpaved path that led deeper into the trees.
“How do I know you’re not trying to lure me here to kill me?” mused Y/N, already a few steps ahead of the pink-haired man on the pine-straw path.
“Yeah hold on, let me just get my axe out from this basket real quick” deadpanned Technoblade, earning a giggle from Y/N.
A few moments later, the path opened up to a clearing with a few fallen logs and a small brook trickling near the edge.
“This is beautiful Tech! How did you find this?” they asked with an awestruck expression.
He hid the way that his ears flushed with his hair and busied himself laying out the picnic supplies he had dragged all the way out here, mumbling something unintelligible.
Once he was done, he looked up to find an empty clearing, Y/N nowhere to be found.
“Y/N?” he called
He received a response in the form of a small yelp and a rather loud splash. “Over here!”
“What the hell were you thinking?” he asked, sprinting over to the edge of the stream. Their giggles calmed him a little bit, but didn’t absolve him of all his worry as he subtly looked them over for any injuries.
“I thought the rock would be steady enough to hold me” they pouted, gesturing vaguely at the rock in question, now shiny with water.
Technoblade sighed, rolling his eyes at their antics, but hoisted them up nonetheless. Once they were back on solid ground, he curled his finger around the back of his sweatshirt's neckline and pulled it over his head, almost knocking off his glasses in the process. He missed the way Y/N’s eyes narrowed and focused on the way his black knit turtleneck hugged his figure, tucked into the dark brown trousers Wilbur had dug out of his closet just hours previously.
“Are you warm?” asked Y/N with an incredulous look, teeth slightly chattering.
“It’s for you, dumbass. You’re almost sure to get sick in those wet clothes.”
Y/N’s heart stuttered at the gesture, and at the way Technoblade shushed them when they tried to argue.
He turned away as Y/N shed their dripping flannel and replaced it with the sweatshirt, warmed by his own body heat.
When he turned back, he almost lost his breath again. Seeing them in his sweatshirt, the sleeves dangling past their fingertips and their hair a little tousled from pulling the garment over their head, messed with him just a little bit. He ignored the way that his cold-nipped nose was turning redder and redder and instead gently picked up their hand to guide them over to where he had set up the picnic, next to a towering tree with a thick trunk.
Both of them were hyper-aware of the way that his fingers held theirs, and the warmth that seemed to radiate from their touch. Neither one of them wanted to let go, but as they plopped down onto the picnic blanket sitting on the ground, their grip fell apart.
The loss of contact made the October day seem colder.
The muffled crunching of the leaves under their butts filled the air as they settled into a comfortable position and began digging through the picnic basket Technoblade had brought with food. The tension in the air slowly faded as they began to eat and the atmosphere filled with the joyous conversation of the two painfully oblivious teenagers.
When they had both finished eating, Technoblade pulled out the bag that he had brought from the bookstore and handed Y/N their book. The smile that graced their lips as they mumbled out another ‘thank you’ brought another wave of butterflies down Technoblades stomach. He pulled out his own book and made himself comfortable against the thick tree trunk behind him. Y/N reached into their back pocket and pulled out a ballpoint pen, the cap of the pen riddled with chew marks.
The damn pen.
They stuck it between their teeth and let it hang off of the right side of their mouth. Technoblade felt his chest heat up as they nudged him over to share his spot leaning against the tree. He opened his phone and hit play on a mix of Arctic Monkeys and Gang of Youths, before leaning back to where his shoulder was pressed with theirs and opened his book.
Time seemed to forget its rules in this quiet little forest, with just Y/N and Technoblade lost in their separate worlds of words. The peace was only ever disturbed by Y/N occasionally scribbling something down in the margin of their book, to which Technoblade would demand to see, and they would fall into a small discussion about the topic.
These occasions slowly began to wane off until Technoblade felt Y/N lean their head against him with a thud. He looked down to see them fast asleep, half leaning on his shoulder with the pen still clutched between their fingers. He took note of the way the pen was balanced like a cigarette and the small puffs of air following their cold breath resembled smoke. Ignored the way his heart was almost convulsing on itself, he chose to wrap his arm around them and savour the moment.
Because he was aware that before he knew it, it would be over.
WINTER---------------------------
The student media center had a hushed atmosphere to it, as people took advantage of their last afternoon to study for semester finals. Winter break would let out the next day, but for the overwhelmed Juniors and Seniors now crowding the library, the excitement would not set in until they quelled their nervousness over the last final of the semester.
One of the study rooms situated in the back was now crowded with the notorious friend group as they crammed for their last final. Fundy, Jack and Niki were trading around their history notes, Wilbur and Minx were arguing over the proper situation of a unit circle, and Technoblade was flash quizzing Y/N on the Polyatomic ions. Their frantic studying was interrupted by their friend, George, who had gotten bored of watching his two best friends during their last football practice of the semester. He quietly walked in and took a seat in the corner, pulling out a notebook and studying something or the other.
“Why aren't Dream and Sapnap here cramming with us?” Minx asked George.
“They have their ‘weightlifting’ final tomorrow” seethed George, most likely jealous of his friends’ somewhat pointless final.
Everyone laughed, and some groans of similar jealousy rang through the air right before the cracking loudspeaker of the school crunched to life, announcing that the doors would close at 6:00. Y/N looked down at their watch face, which read 5:45.
“Fuck, I’m never going to learn these charges! Don’t even get me started on the fact that I don’t have the solubility rules memorized!” squeaked Y/N in frustration. Everyone gave them a sympathetic look, knowing the rigorous emotional and mental demands of taking AP Chemistry.
“Don’t worry, you still have the whole night to study!” consoled Fundy.
Technoblade felt his heart break at the way their eyes filled with tears of frustration.
“My siblings scream way too much, I can never concentrate at home”
“Come study at our house!” exclaimed Wilbur. “We can kick Tommy out so he won’t bother you!”
Wilbur sensed their hesitation and cut in before they could say ‘no’
“Come on, Dad won’t mind, he loves you! And it gives us an excuse to send Tommy out!”
Y/N turned their head in questioning to Technoblade, who grunted and nodded his head.
“I mean, if you’re sure”
Eager nodding.
“Thanks so much Wil!”
---
It was 11:50 and Phil’s living room resembled something closer to an FBI clue board, with flashcards and chemistry notes strewn on every possible surface. Wilbur had retired to bed after reviewing his Calculus notes one last time, and Tommy was spending the night at Tubbo’s. Phil leaned against the doorway and watched his son coach his best friend through the last few chapters of the textbook with a smile on his face.
“Make sure not to go to sleep too late! You need enough sleep for your final!” he called, retreating up the stairs.
Y/N checked their watch and sighed at the time. “I should get going soon.” they mumbled, beginning to collect their notes.
“Stay the night” suggested Technoblade, pulling a blanket over their shoulders to protect them from the December chill that seemed ever-present, even with the crackling fireplace illuminating the room.
“I can’t-” A yawn cut their sentence “I can’t stay, I don't have anything and I’ve wasted enough of your time already”
Technoblade took them by the shoulders and looked them in the eyes, albeit having to lean down. “You can never waste my time”
Shivers ran through Y/N’s tired body and they offered him a weak smile.
He plucked the pen that was hanging from their mouth out and feigned disgust as he wiped it on their shirt, before throwing it in the pile of stationary by his feet.
“How about you stay for a hot chocolate?”
The invitation was too hard to resist so they gave in, as long as it was “only ten more minutes”.
Technoblade filled two mugs from the pot of the beverage that Phil had left on the stove, and topped it with marshmallows and whipped cream.
Y/N took the mug from him with a ‘thank you!’, and led the way back to the living room to nestle under the warmth of the fireplace. The pair were both exhausted from the day of studying, and chose to sip their beverages in silence. Before either of them knew it, they were both asleep under Y/N’s blanket, cuddled up against the cold of the night.
---
They woke up to the banging of Wilbur running down the stairs.
“Shit, you two are still asleep?”
Y/N jumped up, knocking over their empty mug in the process. “Fuck, what time is it?” they asked, urgently rummaging around for their bag.
“8:00”
“What time is your final?” grumbled Technoblade, still half-asleep with no intention to get up until his final later that day.
“8:20” they whined, almost breaking down.
“Hey, it’s fine, go get clothes from my room, take anything you want. I’ll drive you.” said Technoblade in a calming voice.
Y/N looked at him with desperate eyes and thanked him before retracing the familiar path to his bedroom.
Technoblade cracked his back and followed Wilbur into the kitchen, intending to make Y/N a nutritious breakfast and pack them a lunch, but was met with Wilburs smirking face.
“What’s the deal?” said Technoblade in his monotonous low, pulling things from out of the fridge.
“Are we going to ignore that you and Y/N slept together?”
“Gross you perv, we just fell asleep studying”
Wilburs smart-ass response was cut off by the arrival of the person in question, clad in one of Technoblades sweaters and sweatpants and ripping their fingers through their hair to attempt to tame it.
Technoblade ignored the all-too-familiar flutter of his heart at seeing them in his clothes and handed them a yogurt bowl he put together. “Let’s go, you can eat it in the car.”
They definitely broke laws driving at breakneck speed, but they pulled into the school parking lot at 8:15 and jumped out of the car, Technoblade following them to make sure they made it to the Chemistry classroom on time. With a minute and a half to spare, they arrived at the door to the classroom, earning a sigh of relief from both of them.
Dr. Yachtrong ushered Y/N into the classroom, but not before Technoblade placed a kiss on their forehead and wished them good luck. They entered the classroom in a daze, which they quickly shook off when the tests were passed out.
---
The final bell rang for the day and the cheers rang around the school, drowning out the crunchy loudspeaker announcements to “have a good Christmas” and to “make good decisions”. Y/N had headed off to their last few classes following the Chemistry final, which had gone as good as one could expect a Chemistry exam to go. They were fairly sure they had passed which at this point, was a major win. As they left the History hallway, they saw their friend Karl leaving the art classroom.
“Karl!” they waved him down.
“HEY! Y/N!!!” he giggled excitedly “Schools out!”
“I know!”
Excited chatter filled the hallways and they bumped into Sapnap, Punz, and Dream leaving the weights room.
“How was your weightlifting final?” snickered Y/N
Punz answered with a slight push to their head. The group was shot out at the front courtyard, where almost all of their other friends were waiting.
The celebratory mood was punctuated by Karl inviting everyone over for an “Epic School Sucks Party” at his house later that night.
Y/N looked around, searching for the pink-haired man that had been flooding their thoughts more than usual lately.
He had been acting differently, nervous even, since the day they fell asleep on him at the park. Y/N was only scared last night's incident would make it worse.
“He’s probably finishing up his Latin stuff” murmured Wilbur, leaning down to their ear.
Y/N’s ears burnt a bright red upon knowing that Wilbur knew who they were looking for. They looked up to answer, but he had already gotten immersed in a conversation with Quackity and George.
The man in question came out of the front doors of the building and made a beeline for their cluster of people upon seeing them. Y/N couldn’t help but admire the cuffs he wore on his slightly pointed ears, and the way his long pink hair fell behind his-
“Oi Y/N is that Technoblades sweater?”
Screw you Minx
“Y/N spent a surprise night over last night” snickered Wilbur, wiggling his eyebrows.
“It's. Not. Like. That.” screeched Y/N, punctuating each word with a smack to Wilbur, somewhat drowned in the laughs and gasps of everyone in their group.
“Why are we hitting Wilbur and can I join?” asked Technoblade once he integrated himself into the tangle of people. The laughs hushed as everyone turned to look between Y/N and Technoblade.
“What?”
-----
The heat of Niki’s curling iron sent warm shivers down Y/N’s neck, a grateful contrast to the harsh December chill plaguing the outdoors. She blew gently on the warm hair before letting it all fall back, tousling it to break up the curls.
“Thanks Niki!” said Y/N gratefully, examining themselves in the mirror. “You’re going to have to teach me how to do this someday.”
Niki laughed, already standing in front of the bathroom mirror to apply her eyeliner. With one eye closed, she spoke to the person now standing behind her, checking their outfit from different angles.
“So really, what’s going on between you and Technoblade?”
She knew of their intense crush on the pink-haired boy, which had started somewhere between 8th grade and freshman year, but she also knew that Y/N tended to be more closed off about their deep personal life.
Y/N sighed, almost in disappointment. “Nothing. And that’s the problem.”
Due to Niki’s sympathetic look thrown their way, they fell down a rabbit hole of ranting which led them to where they were now; on the floor beside Niki’s bed with Y/N’s head in her lap.
“He always acts so weird around me. One minute he’s holding my hand or kissing my forehead, and the next he won't even look at me, or only answers in short sentences. And it stresses me out because I think he hates me, but then he does shit like buying me books just to go read in a forest with him, or staying up all night with me to study for my Chemistry final, and I just-” They took a deep breath, containing their rambling.
“I just get more confused.”
----------
Karls party was in full swing by the time Niki and Y/N got there. They were met at the door by Sapnap and Quackity, who for some reason were handcuffed to each other, and were both giggling and flushed. Y/N and Niki hung their coats on the rack by the door and walked into the festive atmosphere of the house, seeing familiar faces in every corner.
Despite the rowdy environment and the deafening noise, the party was relatively small, consisting of only 20 or so of Karls friends.
They followed Quackity and Sapnap into the living room where a semi-circle of people was lounging on various couches, passing around a blunt and playing what seemed to be truth or dare.
Ah. That’s where the handcuffs came from.
Niki and Y/N decided to play, Niki offering to go fetch them both drinks in the kitchen as Y/N found their place in the circle. To their surprise, Technoblade was there, seemingly uninterested in the game and more invested in something he was doing on his phone. Upon seeing Y/N, he gave them a smile, cheeks flushed with alcohol, and gestured to the small spot between him and the couch armrest. All eyes followed Y/N as they perched on the armrest, mumbling a small ‘hi!’ to Technoblade.
Niki returned with two drinks in hand and shared a knowing glance with Y/N, as well as a miniscule smile, before handing them their drink and taking a seat on a cushion next to Jack and Minx.
“Okay okay, In honor of our new guests arriving, Y/N, truth or dare?”
Y/N knew by the looks everyone was giving them that choosing truth would not be the best option.
“Dare.”
A small sigh of disappointment left Karls lips before a mischievous light came into his eyes and he perked up again. “I dare you to sit in Technoblade’s lap”
Snickers echoed across the group as Technoblade looked up at the sound of his name. He looked up to where Y/N was balancing themself on the edge of the couch, and with some burst of courage, that was probably induced by the alcohol, he wrapped his arm around their waist to tug them into his lap with a squeak of surprise.
After recovering from their initial embarrassment, Y/N turned to the man whose lap they were in. “Techno, truth or dare?”
He huffed but quietly breathed out “Truth”, suddenly very aware of how close their face was to his. After a few brief seconds of eye contact which seemed to last an eternity, they stuttered out
“Umm, do you,- actually, how did, how did they get you to play? This game... I mean?”
“BOO! WHAT A BORING FOOKIN QUESTION!” called Minx from the cushion she was on.
His response of how he didn’t mean to get dragged in to this “stupid middle schoolers game” was slightly slurred as he took a big chug of whatever liquid was floating around his red solo cup.
This worried Y/N. They never saw Technoblade drink more than enough to get him slightly tipsy, but they brushed it off on end-of-the-semester excitement. In any case, they would confront him when they got the opportunity to talk to him alone.
---
Said opportunity arose after the Pizza arrived, and most people began to file into Karls movie room to watch whatever garbage show he decided on running. Y/N stayed back, intending to have full access to the pizza and Technoblade, noticing this, stayed with them. Y/N hopped up onto a counter and pulled the pizza boxes to them.
“Hey Tech?”
“Heh?”
“Are you okay? I haven't seen you drink this much before?” they asked, running a concerned hand through his hair before pressing it to his forehead to check how hot he was.
His eyes closed and he nuzzled into their touch.
“I guess I’m just nervous.”
“Nervous? What do you have to be nervous about? It’s winter break” they answered, a small smile on their beautiful face.
This was his chance.
“I have to start applying for colleges.”
Fuck, he missed it.
-----
The food brought a new bought of energy to everyone at the party, and by 3 in the morning, the celebration was still heavy in the air. Everyone thanked whatever brought Karl’s parents to buy a house far removed from any close neighborhoods, so the noise wouldn’t earn them a police visit.
Loud music blared from the speakers in the living room, which had been cleared of furniture to make space for the energetic teenagers.
Y/N took turns dancing with Niki, Minx, and Jack before being stolen away by Sapnap who spun them around until they almost threw up. Eventually, Y/N ended up on the outskirts of the dancefloor, where they saw their favorite apathetic pig-boy leaning against a corner, snickering at everyone who was embarrassing themselves in their drunken haze.
“WANNA DANCE?” asked Y/N leaning towards him to enunciate over the music.
How could he say no? When they were looking up at him with those big, bright eyes and a slight sheen of sweat over their face.
-----
The party began to dissipate nearing the hours of dawn. Around 5, people began trickling out. Except for the select few who had decided to just crash with Karl.
Technoblade and Wilbur parked a little ways away from their house, walking the rest of the way and ushering each other up the tree by Wilburs bedroom to sneak back in.
It was locked.
“You dimwit, didn’t you unlock the window?”
“Of course I did you arse, where do you think I snuck out from?”
Their bickering was interrupted by a small tap on the glass by none other than a smirking Tommy.
“Leave it to him to only wake up when he wants to annoy us”
“Tommy, let us in.”
Tommy made a rubbing motion with his index finger and thumb. Looking at Wilbur and sighing, Technoblade pulled his wallet out and held up a 10.
Tommy made a ‘more’ motion
20. Then 40. Then 50.
“So generous of you lads, come on in!” he giggled, snatching the money from his brother and leaving the window open for the two to clamber in awkwardly.
Technoblade snuck back into his room, stripping off his sweaty clothes and falling onto the mattress. Before he blacked out, he saw two notifications come in.
BitchBur: I took these pictures tn, thought u might want them ;) (8 images attached)
And
Y/N <3: I hope you figure out the college situation! <3 let me know if you can hang out sometime :D
He opened Wilburs text to find a collection of candid pictures Wilbur had snapped over the course of the night. One of Y/N in his lap, a few of them laughing together over pizza, a few of them on the dance floor, and what had to be his favorite: a picture of them kissing his cheek as a ‘good luck’ for his arm wrestle with Dream.
A smile creeped onto his face and he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for his brother. He set the last picture as his wallpaper before turning off his phone and falling into a realm of blackness.
SPRING------------------
“That was my very last AP Exam!” exclaimed Y/N, walking through the door of the coffee house where all their friends were lounging.
The small shop erupted with cheers as they celebrated everyone finishing their school year. The cheers eventually died out, though, as the realization sunk in. Tomorrow was graduation.
The seniors in the group, Wilbur, Technoblade, Minx and Fundy were all going off to college.
Wilbur to England, Fundy to the Netherlands, and Minx to Ireland. The one person who hadn’t decided on a college yet was Technoblade.
“Why do you all have to leave the country?” whined Y/N.
A chorus of similar sentiments left the other juniors who were scattered around a few tables that had been pushed together.
As the conversation descended into dorms and expenses, Y/N received a text from Technoblade. The shock of the ‘ding’ made the pen that had been balancing between their lips clatter onto the floor.
Apathetic pig-boy: come outside
Y/N looked around, not having noticed that Technoblade had disappeared from the table. Taking advantage of the conversation everyone else was immersed in, they quietly snuck out, but not without avoiding Wilburs keen eyes, which narrowed upon realizing his brother was not at the table.
They wandered outside, finding Technoblade sitting at one of the outdoor tables covered by the awning.
“My Yale email came in.” he said as soon as he saw them walk outside.
They jumped with barely contained joy. “What did it say?”
“I wanted you to be here when I opened it.”
Everyone knew that Technoblades dream college was Yale. He had talked about it ever since he was a little kid, screaming about Greek mythology on the school playground. Y/N knew that it was Technoblades biggest ambition to study literature at one of the most renowned colleges in the world, but they still felt a twinge of sadness. On top of losing half their friends, they couldn’t lose the one person that meant the most to them too.
“Open it!”
Y/N leaned against the back of Technoblades chair, almost falling over his shoulder as they watched the loading icon on the college’s website.
Technoblade clicked on the notification and they both read it together
Congratulations! We are glad to inform you…
“THAT YALE UNIVERSITY HAS DECIDED TO ACCEPT YOUR APPLICATION! TECH I'M SO PROUD OF YOU!” Screamed Y/N, wrapping their arms around his shocked figure. They placed a million kisses all over his face, gushing about how proud they were of him, ignoring the gut wrenching feeling inside of them.
“What’s the screaming about? Did you two finally get together?” Asked Wilbur as the group flooded out of the coffee shop to see what the commotion was about.
“Yale accepted me.” mumbled Technoblade, just loud enough for them to hear.
The cheers that followed his announcement almost made their small hometown collapse. Congratulations were exchanged and backs were pat, and in the mess, Y/N managed to sneak off to the side. The only person who noticed was Niki, who followed them to the corner of the parking lot where they were kicking at the asphalt with their converse. She sat down, and the two rested in silence, the April wind blowing their hair all over the place.
“He’s leaving.” He’s leaving me. They wanted to say, but they didn't.
Niki gave her friend a small side hug, somehow interpreting the sentence accurately. “He’s pursuing his dreams Y/N, you know he doesn’t want to leave you.”
“How do I make him stay? It’s selfish and I’d feel like a bitch but Niki I don’t think I can live without him.”
“Y/N.”
“Hmm?”
“You need to tell him how you feel.”
----
The next day brought sunny skies and the enthusiastic atmosphere of graduation. They had all managed to snag themselves some graduation tickets to see their friends finish high school.
Jack, Niki, and Y/N were sitting in a Wendy’s parking lot, waiting for the clock to hit 11:45 so they could start making their way to school. It seemed empty without the Seniors of the group, as they were all at school getting ready for the ceremony. Y/N voiced this concern aloud, to which Jack responded, “We’ll have to get used to it. This is how it’s going to be next year.”
And the three fell into silence, sullenly dipping their fries into their frostys.
----
Jack, Niki, and Y/N let themselves be jostled into school with the crowds of emotional parents and kids who were already bored of the event. They found decent seats, near the front aisle and set their belongings down.
Not a moment later, they were greeted by Philza, who filed in with the rest of the boys extended family to sit beside them.
The dimming of the lights led to hushed whispers erupting from the previously rowdy crowd.
Procedure came and went, the salutatorian and valedictorian giving their respective addresses to the crowd, the speech of the somewhat bored principal, and finally,
“Without further ado, presenting the Graduating Class of 2021!”
Cheers erupted from the crowd as names began to be called.
Within the first five minutes, the boredom began to set in and Jack began a game pigeon game, which Phil demanded to be added to. The four played the digital card game until they were pulled out of their concentration by a familiar name being called. They erupted into cheers as Fundy walked across the stage to pick up his diploma and shake the Principal’s hand. The process was repeated until Minx, her eyes shining as she shook the principal's hand earnestly, then flipped him off quickly behind his back, which sent the auditorium into a fit of laughter.
Person after person was called up, until...
“Technoblade Minecraft”
Philza almost cried. He stood on his chair, screaming in excitement for his son which made the boy in question flush as he collected his diploma and took a rather rushed leave off the stage, but not before seeing the heart that Y/N made with their fingers in his direction.
The same general act happened during Wilburs announcement, except that he laughed and gave his dad a cheering motion with his hands.
---
The group spilled out onto the lawn of the school, congratulating people they knew when they saw them. Technoblade and Wilbur joined their family, receiving hugs from a very emotional Tommy. Y/N, Niki, and Jack waited behind for their friends to finish up with their families before tackling them in hugs. Screams and whoops came from the puddle of people on the floor, everyone yelling things to each other. The atmosphere was charged with happiness, and relief, and one couldn’t help but feel elation despite the bittersweet nature of graduation.
“Alright mates, party at my house!” boomed Philza over the noise.
The infamous graduation party. They had planned the two-part party in middle school, when they had had their first sleepover at the group's “hub”, aka Philza’s house. Since then, the party had become a reality and the first part would be executed tonight. The next being, of course, when the remaining half of the group graduated.
A marquis was set up in Phil’s garden, now uncluttered and full of spring blossoms. It was such a different atmosphere than it had been last summer, when their bonfires would stretch out into the early hours of the morning.
Food laden tables were scattered around the marquis, and to everyone's delight, a chocolate fountain rested on one of them.
After collecting food and gifts from various guests, the group found themselves sitting under the shade of a large tree with a rickety old treehouse balancing on it, which Tommy and Tubbo were attempting to devise a plan to get into with the help of their friend Ranboo, who didn’t seem as enthusiastic about the idea as the others.
“My flight leaves next week.” sighed Minx, leaning against Niki’s shoulder.
“I’ll be out of here by July the latest”
“Phil’s taking us to London next week and I’ll just be staying”
Everyone turned to Technoblade to reveal when he would be leaving for college.
“I’m going to Connecticut a week before the beginning of the term”
“So how long will you be home this summer?” Y/N asked, setting down their cookie.
“Between travelling and dorm set-up, I’ll probably only be here for about two weeks total.”
Y/N’s eyes filled with tears as they pushed their head into Technoblades chest.
“I just-” sniffle “I just can’t believe you’re all leaving!” they cried, muffled by Technoblades button down.
This sent everyone into a fit of tears as they all began hugging each other for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.
The moment was interrupted by Phil, who came out of the house with a camera and various props. Encouraging everyone to gather around and take pictures. Everyone scuffled around to fix their disheveled appearances and began making their way to Phils makeshift photo booth.
“Tech- wait!” called Y/N, pulling him back by the forearm. “Your hair”
They put pressure on his shoulders to get him to lean down so that they could fix his stray hairs.
Right then, looking at the way Y/N’s shoes sank into the ground and feeling their light touch in his hair, he decided. I have to tell them. This is my last chance.
“Hey Y/N?”
“Hmm?”
“I-” deep breaths, “I need you to-”
“Come on, lovebirds get in the picture!” called Phil, walking over to drag them to where everyone else was.
Y/N gave him an apologetic look, woven with the silent promise of later.
Damnit Dad.
----
The pictures had lasted what felt like eons, but between the corny props and the harsh afternoon sunlight, they held valuable memories.
But Technoblade had no interest in them at the moment, as he dragged Y/N behind the trunk of the tree they had sat at before.
The sunlight filtering through the leaves made Y/N’s face all that much more beautiful, and Technoblade struggled to tear his attention away to focus on telling them. He gathered up his courage and opened his mouth to speak.
But the only thing that came out was “OW!”
As a pinecone bonked off his head and rolled away on the ground, leaving chips of it in his hair.
“Look out below!” Called Tubbo from somewhere above them. So they managed to get in. Damnit.
Y/N took his hand and led him to the other side of the tree, away from the boys’ field of destruction. They sat down gently, pulling Technoblade down with them to pluck the pieces of pinecone out of his hair.
“Here. Distraction free! Now tell me what you’ve been trying to say because there’s something I need to tell you too.”
That gave Technoblade the perfect opportunity to gather his nerves. “You go first”
“No, it’s fine you!”
“No you go!”
It seemed as if the stars had collided and sent out particles so many eons ago with the knowledge that everything would lead up to these two kids coming to the same conclusion at the same time.
“I love you”
“I love you”
Their eyes met as they stared, wide-eyed and gaping-mouthed at each other. Overcoming the initial shock, they began to ramble.
“I didn’t think you felt the same way because you always got quiet around me and then you woul-”
“Can I kiss you?” Technoblade interrupted them, not really hearing their rambling through the buzz going through his brain.
They nodded shyly in response as he wrapped his hand around the back of their neck to pull them dizzyingly, tauntingly closer. He looked into their eyes one more time to make sure they were serious, but Y/N was already closing the gap between their lips. They hoisted themselves into his lap and gripped his hair to bring him impossibly closer.
But alas, in this group of people, nothing goes unnoticed or undisturbed.
“EW! TECHNO’S KISSING Y/N!” screamed Tommy from the balcony of the treehouse which resulted in whoops and cheers from everyone at the party.
“FINALLY!” yelled someone amongst the crowd.
Y/N felt their ears burn a bright red as they buried their face into Techno’s neck.
“Yeah Y/N! Get some!”
“Oh fuck off!”
A/N: i hope u guys liked it :D, also this is my first time writing with they/them pronouns so if i made a mistake pls don’t hesitate to correct me!
224 notes
·
View notes
Note
Okay soooo I know that Oberyn is your fave, so I'm going to request our sex god of a Prince. "You'll have to make me." "Oh, is that so?" *evil laugh here* Can't wait to see what my bestie boo comes up with
A/N: I’m in love with Oberyn Martell so thank you for indulging me. :D ILY
Thank you for every reblog, comment, and like.
Pairing: Oberyn Martell x F! Reader (Little Sparrow) x Ellaria Sand
Warnings: 18 + Only (Language, domesticity, oral F! receiving, mentions of sexy times)
Masterlist
Lemon Tarts
You stood across from the three little girls, their hands on their hips, just like their father. “Obella, Dorea, Loreza,” you stern your expression, “which of you did it?”
“What do you mean, Mama?” Dorea asks with a grin; oh, the sly viper had taught his daughters well. Ellaria giggles behind, and you turn to stick your tongue out at her. “Mommy, is she well?”
“Your Mama is quite well, my love, but she wants to know which of you naughty girls took the lemon tarts from the kitchen?” They look conspiratorially between each other, and you bite your lip to stop the smile that threatens to show. “Come now,” she demands, “Which one of you did it?”
“It’s a secret,” Loreza whispers giggling, and you drop to your knees, seeing the weak link in the chain with the youngest.
“What’s the secret, my sweet Dove?” You twirl her dark curls behind her ear, and she leans into your hold, reaching out to hug you.
“Papa, said we couldn’t tell,” she whispers in your ear, and the smile breaks out across your face. “We caught him in the kitchen eating the tarts, and he shared one with us. He made us promise not to tell.” You giggle and hold her tighter to your chest, standing with her in your arms, her legs wrapping around you like a monkey.
“Loreza! Papa told us not to tell!” Obella scolds, and you look over at Ellaria with a grin.
“It seems like Papa has been getting into my sweets; what shall we do to him? I think he will need to be punished for getting into things he shouldn’t be.” You let Loreza down with a kiss on her head, and Ellaria giggles and winks at you.
“Yes, I think a punishment is in order; why don’t you go find him? He is in the training yards with the girls.” You nod and go over to grab your shawl and wrap it around your shoulders, the rain outside sending a slight chill through the palace. Obella holds your dress and pulls you down to her level, “what’s wrong, my darling?”
“Please, don’t tell Papa we said anything. We don’t want him to be angry with us,” her tiny voice shakes and she looks close to tears.
You wrap her in a big hug, “Don’t worry, my darling, your secret is safe with me.” She nods, hugging your neck tighter, which you eagerly return. Each day the girls get older, and one day, they won’t want hugs and cuddles; you must take advantage of it as long as you can. You let go and rise, leaning down to kiss Ellaria gently, smiling when she takes your bottom lip between her teeth and pulls.
“Make him pay Little Sparrow, he must know how angry you are with him. Don’t let him persuade you away with his flowery words and gentle touch.” You give her another quick kiss and a smile walking over to the training fields.
You follow the sounds of grunts and groans, watching from the upper deck at the fighters below. Nym and Obara spar in the center a deadly and delicate dance of quick footwork and fists. “Dive Nym!” Oberyn shouts from the corner, “you must be ready to anticipate her every move. Don’t let the fact that she is your sister distract you from your goal.”
Nym watches Obara closely as she circles her like a predator viewing its prey. “Now,” Oberyn coaches, “strike!” You hold your breath as Nym gets a grip on her sister and swings her to the ground, her hands coming out to brace on either side of her head, wrists pinned down. “GOOD! Well done!” he claps his hands together and walks over to the table to drink a sip of wine and pops a few berries into his mouth.
You clap your hands together, and all three pairs of eyes slowly look up to watch you leaning over the railing. “Well done, girls! You have become such fearsome warriors; you bring such glory to your family, my loves.” They smile at you and mumble, “Thank you, mama”, under their breath, both shy with the praise.
“What about me, Little Sparrow?” Oberyn shouts up at you with a smile, “no compliments for the one who trains them? You glare down at him, and his smile drops, a worried expression growing on his face.
“You are in trouble, Oberyn Martell,” he freezes, his eyes widening; you only used his name when you were cross with him. “I know your secret, and I am here to make you pay.”
“And what pray tell, is this indiscretion I’ve committed, my love?” The girls look between the two of you and quickly realize this is something they don’t want to miss. It takes everything you have not to giggle when they walk over to the table and grab a glass of wine and watch between the two of you like a drama at the theater.
“It would seem that the lemon tarts I’ve spent hours baking are all gone. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” To his credit, he does look concerned for a moment before he slips on that charming smile, the one you can’t possibly resist.
He gives a nervous chuckle and rubs the back of his head, “I wouldn’t know anything about that Little Sparrow; maybe some snakes got into the kitchen and took off with your treats. Come down here, and we can talk about it further.” He flicks his wrist down to the spot in front of him, and you scoff.
“You’ll have to make me.”
“Oh, is that so?” You nod, and he sighs, removing his outer coat and leaving him shirtless; the golden chain around his neck glistens, his sun-kissed skin making you weak. The girls quickly stand, taking their cups and leave out the side door. “If you won’t come to me, then I guess I will need to come to you.” He walks over to the large column and begins to scale the wall, hands intertwined in the wild ivy growing around the stone.
“Are you out of your mind?!” you step closer to the column, reaching a hand out for him.
He stops before your outstretched hand and puts a hand to his chest with a dramatic sigh, “my Little Sparrow, love of my life, please forgive me for eating your delicious lemon tarts. They were positively perfect; I couldn’t resist.”
You put your hands on your hips knowing precisely what he’s doing. “Are you doing something rather dangerous so that I won’t be cross with you anymore?” He grins, and you scoff, “you’re insane; I should have married the baker’s son. Then I could have had lemon tarts, and a sane man warm my bed every night!” You yelp as he swings a leg over the banister and turn, running down the hall, Oberyn hot on your heels.
You turn the corner and barrel past servents who giggle as you make your way back in the direction of Ellaria and the girls. The youngest giggle when you scream around the corner, coming to stand behind Ellaria. Oberyn grasps the table and fakes left and right, trying to anticipate your every move. “Papa!” Loreza shouts, watching, “what are you doing?”
He laughs, reaching for you as you move out from behind Ellaria and try to sneak past him. “It doesn’t seem like your quest has been successful, Sparrow,” Ellaria teases, looking up at you from her book. “It seems like our Prince has the upper hand right now.” You try to run past him, but he grabs you with a shriek and tosses you over his shoulder.
“I’m sorry little ones, but Mama thought it was a good idea to tease Papa.” You hit his back, and he slaps your ass.
“What did Mama tease you about?” Ellaria smiles behind the hand covering her mouth, and you try to look around him to flip her the bird.
“She said she wished she’d married someone else besides Papa. Can you believe that, my little Princesses?” You can’t see the girls, but their shrieks of laughter make you smile.
“That’s silly!” Dorea jumps up and down, “Papa is the best man there is!”
You can hear the smile in his voice, “thank you, Princess Dorea, now Papa has to go and remind Mama why she married him, and not,” his voice drops an octave, “some baker’s son.” He turns and you lift your head, reaching a hand out to Ellaria, who shakes her head with a laugh.
“See you later, my love,” she shouts with a wave, the little girls waving goodbye as they jump around and giggle.
There is not much dignity when you’re carried over your lover’s shoulder to be punished, and you try to avoid eye contact with everyone you pass—sighing in relief when the doors to your chamber close behind him, yelping as he tosses you on the bed. Oberyn stands above you, still shirtless, still handsome, but with a darkened glint in his eyes.
He reaches out for you and quickly undresses you, peering down at you with a hunger that no lemon tart would satisfy. He spreads your legs, his big hands sliding up your thighs. “What was it you said, Little Sparrow?” your breath catches as he settles himself before your juicy cunt, “you should have married the baker’s son, so you could have all the lemon tarts you wanted an a-” he draws one thick finger through your folds. “-a sane man warm your bed? Let me remind you what that baker’s son could not do for you, my love.”
He spends the next several hours reminding you why you chose to be with him over all others. His devotion to your body is unmatched as he makes you cum with his tongue, fingers, cock, and all over your chambers. There’s a pleasant ache between your legs, and the perspiration glows on your skin. The moonlight streams through the open window. Oberyn’s weight is comfortable as his arm is slung across your waist, lips kissing a trail down your shoulder and back up to your ear. “I think we broke our record,” he teases, sucking your ear lobe into his warm mouth.
You turn and smile, giving him a languid kiss, “yes, you seemed to be quite motivated.”
“Can you blame me?” he kisses the end of your nose, “you told me you wished to marry another. You’re mine; I needed to prove it.” You giggle and kiss him again, both of you turning when the door swings open. Ellaria walks inside, and you are struck with how gorgeous she is, her breasts spilling over the edges of her dress like a delicious wrapped present.
“I have a gift for you,” she smiles, presenting a plate from behind her back, a single lemon tart in the center. “The girls and I have been working for hours, trying to get it just right.”
You clap your hands, not caring that the sheet slips down your body as you coo in delight. “I can’t wait to taste it!” She grins and hands you the dish, your mouth watering as she strips out of her clothes and pulls the sheet away. Her necklace and bracelets click as she spreads your legs and settles between them, Oberyn reaching a hand out to palm your breast. You take a bite of the tart and moan at the perfect combination of tart and sweet, but the moans quickly turn to something else as Ellaria licks your pussy.
“Wh-what are you d-doing?” you stutter the crumbs from the tart sprinkling down your chest, Oberyn eagerly surging forward to lick and suck them from your skin.
“Our Prince got to remind you why you chose him, but I wanted to make sure you truly know what you would be missing if you married that Baker’s son. See, I even made you lemon tarts,” she smiles before resuming her kitten licks on your clit, her nails trailing over your hips.
And fuck, do you never forget.
Taglist: @chicken-ona-stick @agirllovespancakes @ghostwiththemostbitch @the-purity-pen @paintballkid711 @wasicskosgirl @fantasticcopeaglepasta @sarahjkl82-blog @boxdyeblonde @rosiefridayrogersunday @yeah-seems-legit @mimimi-stuff @ladyblogger-margie @memyselfandellasworld @peterhollandkait @itspdameronthings @emmy626 @luv-nd-serenity @randomness501 @littlebopper96 @alexmarie29 @hell-is-my-second-home666 @thisshipwillsail316 @madslorian @no-droids-on-sunday @glixxr @sfr99 @pedro-pastel @we-can-be-himbos @sleep-tight1 @sarhabee @its--fandom--darling @im-an-adult-ish @princess76179 @demoncrypt1066 @jedi-mando @idreamofboobear @aerolanya @rebelliouscat @veracruz-djarin @marvelprincess1994 @thirstworldproblemss @spacelatinoss @martellthemandalor @kesskirata @waatermelon-sugaar @jitterbugs927 @helga1031 @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @oldstuffnewstuff @yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie @anetteaneta @aellynera @lucifer- @houseofthirst @phoenixhalliwell @lunarthoughts
Pedro Pascal Taglist: @lycheemi @purplepascal042 @poubxlle @dreamer-101 @thewayofthemandalorian @omlwhatamidoinghere @linkpk88 @josepedropascal @mrschiltoncat @mrsparknuts @zannemes @xjaywritesx @mandocrest @petersunderoos96 @notabotiswear @mando-amando @lv7867 @mudhorn-djarin19 @ka-x-in @sleep-tight1 @freeshavocadoooo @dinner-djarin @mssbridgerton @prideandpascal @theflightytemptressadventure @notabotiswear @Pintsizemama @pascal-rascal424 @allmahfeels @the-ginger-hedge-witch @soyelfuegoquearde @northernpunk @clydesducktape @a-skov @darnitdraco @spideysimpossiblegirl @jediknight122
Oberyn Martell Taglist: @theatricalbride @meshlamando @seasonschange-butpeopledont @blufanfictionthings @queenbbarnes @talesfromtheguild @rpcvliz @evyiione @browneyes-djarin @lips-for-you @midnightzonzz
#Oberyn Martell#Ellaria Sand#Pedro Pascal#pedro pascal character fanfiction#Oberyn Martell x reader#Ellaria Sand x reader#Oberyn Martell x reader x Ellaria Sand#Little Sparrow#Female Reader#Game of Thrones
511 notes
·
View notes
Text
Live from New York
You’re hosting SNL and get close with one of the cast members
Request: “hi! can you do something about pete where the reader is hosting snl and throughout the week they’re flirting with each other but she’s unsure if they should date and he convinces her? maybe a combo of fluff/angst/smut? it can be whatever :,)”
Pete x Reader
Warnings: Cursing
A/N: I told myself I wasn’t going to take that long on this one and then I ended up watching an entire documentary on the making of an SNL episode because I wanted to be as accurate as possible… someone stop me pls
Word Count: 2834
Monday
Despite being a swiftly rising actress, you hated being the enter of attention. You’d always gotten anxious as a kid when a teacher made you stand in front of the class for presentations or during first-day introductions. So being front and center in a room of 30 people who were all there to study and try to impress you was not something you found pleasant.
“Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You spoke timidly to the crowded room, people clapping from their spots on the floor or various couches around the room, “it’s great to be here.”
Lorne cleared his throat, “alright, let’s start with you, Anna.”
You looked around the room as a young woman pitched the first sketch of the night, listening intently to her ideas while trying to match faces with the names Lorne had given you earlier. Then your eyes locked with a pair of deep brown ones, the man wearing a soft smile on his face. He radiated gentle energy despite the tattoos you could see running down his arms.
The pitches continued with an air of lightheartedness and fun. You found nearly everything funny, so you couldn’t even begin to imagine how you were going to cut any of the sketch pitches.
After a lull in ideas, Lorne announced that cast members could now pitch ideas for Weekend Update character appearances. The man you’d taken an interest in earlier, who you’d since learned was named Pete Davidson, pitched a new set of characters for you and him.
“You know those weird stoner kids in high school who were always hanging out in the parking lot and acted really weird and mysterious? Those characters who just give really vague answers to anything you ask and act like they’ve seen some shit when they have the most normal home lives.”
You giggled, knowing the exact kinds of kids he was talking about. Colin and Michael also chuckled, writing the idea down with some notes of their own. Soon after that, everyone went back to pitching regular sketches, Jost and Che pitching an unusual number of sketches featuring you and Pete.
After a few long hours, the session wrapped; everyone leaving the office space except for you and Lorne, “so, what did you think?”
You chuckled lightly, “you have some seriously talented people on this show, Mr. Michaels. I don’t understand how you guys write an entire show every week.”
“We all work very hard; I’ll tell you that. Now, talk to me. Anything you really liked or really hated?”
You shrugged, “you’re the comedy mastermind, I know nothing. But I thought that weird kids from high school bit was pretty funny.”
Lorne nodded, “So did Jost and Che it seems. Sometimes the kid has a good idea.” You giggled at his reference to Pete as “the kid.” He sighed, “anything else? I noticed you liked that proposal sketch.”
“Yeah, that one was super funny. I will say, I wasn’t too in love with the dad-teacher one, but I would have no problem with it being done with someone else as the daughter.”
Lorne and you spent the rest of the workday discussing the different sketch ideas that came up and gauging what type of comedy suited you best. Before you left, he introduced you to Donna, your dresser who would be helping you out throughout the week.
Tuesday
After a quick tour of the studio by Donna, you were given a list of cast members and writers who wanted to meet with you to get ideas about sketches. You first stepped into a small room with a desk and futon, Donna introducing you to Chloe Fineman and Celeste Yim.
Chloe smiled brightly at you, “okay, so we were thinking that we could do something where I bring you to a sleepover with some friends that you don’t know. But at some point, you try to go to sleep because you have a soccer tournament in the morning but everyone else is being loud and it turns into this big overdramatic argument.”
You giggled softly, “I love that!”
After writing with them for a while, you were whisked away to room after room, finally landing in Colin Jost and Michael Che’s office, where they were hunched over a computer with Pete.
Colin smiled at you, “hey Y/N, how’s your day been?”
“Busy, how are you guys?”
The men responded with variations of “good,” before Michael spoke, “I know it’s late, so don’t feel obligated to stay longer than you’re comfortable with.”
You shrugged, “what time is it? It doesn’t feel that late.”
Pete laughed, teasing Colin and Michael, “c’mon guys, don’t you know that the young people of New York don’t sleep?”
You giggled in agreement as Colin frowned, “I’m only 38, that’s not that old.”
“I’m only 26, Colin,” you said, laughing at the men.
Michael patted Colin on the shoulder, “Jost, we’re getting old.”
Colin frowned before clearing his throat, “anyways, we had a couple ideas for some sketches with you and Pete, if you’re up for it, and we wanted to hash out your weekend update appearance.”
You smiled and nodded, “yeah, that sounds great.”
The rest of the night (and into the early morning) was spent with the three men, eventually joined by Heidi Gardner and Kyle Mooney to work them into the scripts. A majority of the writing process was simply messing around with various sketch situations until someone found a joke that worked best.
Pete watched you carefully the entire night, doing everything in his power to make you laugh. You had no complaints, doing your best to not openly flirt with him in front of the rest of the cast (and failing quite miserably).
Wednesday
Wednesday was the designated day for the roundtable readthrough. You took a place between Pete and Lorne, who began the reading, “we’ve got 41 sketches so let’s get started.”
The table read was just like any other you’d been through; Lorne wasting no time between sketches to discuss or joke. You struggled with containing your laughter throughout the reading, trying to act professionally. It didn’t help that Pete was making jokes any chance he got, eliciting even more giggles from you.
The three hours seemed to take no time at all as sketch after sketch was read out loud. Every so often you would catch Lorne looking at you with an eyebrow raised, usually after you read one of the sketches with Pete.
After everyone was dismissed, you were led to Lorne’s office with the head writers and producers. There was a large wall covered in sticky notes with each sketch’s name written on one. Lorne turned to you, “what do you think?”
You scanned the wall, listing off some of the sketches that you really liked, though most of them were great, so you had trouble narrowing them down.
Lorne let out a small laugh, “you guys noticed how she picked out the sketches with Pete in them, too, right?”
Your face went hot, immediately turning to face the ground. Colin and Michael chuckled, “we noticed,” the latter commented.
“There’s nothing wrong with it, Y/N, just wanted to point it out to you.” Lorne teased before turning back to the wall and thinking.
You giggled, “you guys suck.”
As embarrassed as you were, your anxiety was surprisingly low. You had been worried about hosting since you got the invite, but the cast and crew had been nothing but kind to you. Even just being able to make jokes like this with the writers made you feel oddly comforted.
You worked on narrowing down which sketches to keep for rehearsals and which ones were going to get cut immediately, a job that was very easy for Lorne but very difficult for you.
Eventually you got it down to enough sketches that Lorne was satisfied and he sent out the list to the cast. He led you out of his office, “you know, you have a real affinity for comedy,” he told you. “I don’t know if you’ve ever thought about sketch comedy, but from that read through you seem to know what you’re doing.”
You blushed slightly, thanking him, “we’ll see if you’re still saying that on Saturday.”
He chuckled, “have a good night.” You waved at him as you walked towards the exit, running into none other than Pete Davidson.
“Hey, you headed out?”
You smiled, “yeah, just got out of my meeting with Lorne. Did you get a chance to look at the revised sketch schedule?”
Pete nodded, walking with you to the door of the theater, “yeah, I noticed you kept a lot of our sketches in there,” he bumped your shoulder, a playful smirk on his face.
A giggle rolled from your lips, “what can I say? We’re funny together.”
He raised an eyebrow, watching as you flagged down your taxi, “whatever you say.”
“Are you complaining about having to work with me?” You asked, opening the door.
He chuckled, “oh yeah. I am just dreading tomorrow.” Sarcasm laced his words, making you laugh.
“Goodnight, Pete.”
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
Thursday
Donna ushered you around all day, making sure you were in the rehearsal space when you needed to be and supporting you from the side. This part of the process came naturally to you, as it was the most similar to rehearsing and filming on movie sets.
When you weren’t rehearsing a scene, you were hanging out with Pete. It was strange how easily you got along, your humors aligning almost perfectly. Not to mention he was a huge flirt and was making it more and more obvious with you. You flirted right back, earning looks of amusement from Lorne throughout the day.
The day was a whirlwind, and by the time you were able to go home, you were exhausted. Pete walked you out to the street again, talking about one of the sketches that went wrong earlier until your taxi pulled up. This time he opened the door for you and helped you inside, “see you tomorrow.”
You smiled up at him, “bright and early.”
Friday
After hours of rehearsing, you plopped onto the couch in Pete’s dressing room, where you had found yourself a home over the past few days, “I don’t know how you guys do this every week. I’ve been here for four days and I’m exhausted.”
Pete chuckled, “to be fair, you’re the host. The key is to try and only get one sketch into the show so that you don’t have to do anything during the week.”
You laughed, letting a comfortable silence fall over you. Pete studied you, taking in your tired appearance, “you’re doing great though, being a host. I’ve seen some people come in and try to take control of everything and then no one has fun. You’re really good at just letting the comedy speak for itself. Not many people do that.”
Shrugging, you responded, “I mean, I’m not a comedian, I’m just an actor. You guys come up with everything. I don’t know enough to try and control things around here, I just do what I can to make your visions come to life. I figured that’s what a host should do.”
Pete nodded, “yeah, but again, a lot of people want their SNL episode to look a certain way. You don’t seem to care.”
“I just want to have fun, honestly.”
He smirked, “are you?”
You looked up to him with a smile on your face, “definitely.”
Suddenly the speaker in the room rang out, “Y/N and Pete to main stage 1.”
Groaning, you lifted yourself from the couch, Pete watching you with amusement, “c’mon Ms. Host, we’ve got a show to rehearse.”
Saturday
The day was hectic; filled with rehearsal after rehearsal. Lorne and Donna made sure that you were comfortable all day, but you could feel the stress radiating from every inch of the studio.
Stronger than that, though, was the sense of excitement buzzing around everyone. You were fit into more costumes than you could count, all leading up to the final dress rehearsal of the night in front of the live studio audience.
Dress ran smoothly, but you could see Lorne cutting lines from sketches from stage out of the corner of your eye. Luckily, Pete distracted you from all the anxious energy. “I know Lorne looks like a psychopath, but that’s just what he does. Everything’s fine, don’t stress about it,” he said over dinner.
You chuckled, “thanks. I feel so out of my league this week.”
“I told you, you’re great. Everyone here loves you. I heard Lorne talking about wanting you back as soon as possible.”
Rolling your eyes, you responded, “yeah right, I’m never gonna do anything big enough to get me on this show again.”
Pete laughed, “you could always make guest appearances with me on the Weekend Update.”
“You aren’t sick of me already?” you joked.
After dinner you were paraded around by Donna, who got you into your style for opening monologue. She smiled at you through your dressing room mirror, “how are you feeling?”
You gave her a nervous smile, “terrified, but ready.”
The lady chuckled, “you’ll do great. I’ll be right offstage if you need anything.”
“Thank you, for everything this week.”
She squeezed your shoulders, “don’t mention it, though if you really want to thank me, go ask that Davidson boy out on a date.”
Your eyes went wide, “Donna!”
A chuckle rang out through the room, “what? I say it for your own good.”
She led you through a maze of hallways and tunnels until you were in place to walk onstage, the speaker announcing your name to the audience followed by cheers.
Exactly 90 minutes later you were gathered with the cast on stage, “thank you to Fletcher, Lorne Michaels, this amazing cast and crew, and thank you all for watching. Goodnight everybody!”
You turned to Pete, who was standing beside you and let him pull you in for a hug, “you did it!” he cheered.
You passed around the cast, giving hugs to as many people as you can before Lorne announced, “that’s a wrap on Y/N Y/L/N and Fletcher!”
Everyone cheered, clapping for you and your musical guest before heading to their dressing rooms to change into their night clothes. You went back to your own dressing room, taking a moment to bask in the feeling of accomplishment.
A knock on your door pulled you out of your haze, “come in!”
Pete entered the room, a wide smile on his face, “congrats!” You let him pull you in for another hug, “so I know that there’s supposed to be this big party after the show, but I was wondering if you’d let me take you to dinner instead?”
Your breath got caught in your throat, those words being the last thing you expected to hear from him. Of course, you wanted to say yes because you did, truthfully, really like him. But part of you was hesitant.
You’d dated your fair share of celebrities, and things always ended very publicly and typically poorly. On top of that, you couldn’t help but feel that this might be happening a bit too quick. You started to doubt that he would still have feelings for you in a week since he wouldn’t be around you nearly all the time.
And then there was the issue of your insane work schedules. Having just lived through his, you weren’t sure if you would be able to keep a relationship like that.
“Pete, I think you’re amazing and I really like you, I just-“
Pete nodded his head, cutting you off, “I know we only met like a couple of das ago, but people go on dates with literal strangers all the time.”
You sighed, “it’s not that, Pete, it’s just that…” you paused, searching for words, “things like this tend to be very public with me, and I really don’t want to have a relationship where there’s all this pressure by the media to be perfect.”
He shrugged, “I get that, but it’s just dinner. And we can go somewhere quiet and private, no one has to know. And if things go further then we’ll just keep it on the down low until you’re ready. Trust me, I know what a public relationship is like, I’m not a huge fan either.”
“Yeah, but what about your work schedule. I mean, I’ve only lived in your world for six days and I want to sleep for a month. How do you even hold a relationship on this schedule?”
Pete moved closer to you, fingers grazing your arm, “we can make it work. I promise. Just give me one date, and if it’s not the best first date of your life, you have no further obligations to me.”
You giggled lightly, leaning into his touch, “I’m only saying yes because you’re kinda cute.”
He smiled down at you, eyes twinkling, I’ll take it.”
376 notes
·
View notes
Text
if fate permits
chapter twenty
a taste of his own medicine
previous < masterpost > next
“Hey… uhm… I’m sorry. I’m not sure where to start because I’ve been the worst friend to ya for the past weeks. But I want to start with an apology, I guess… yer probably tired of hearing it, right? … it’s something I’ll never gonna be proud of, my pettiness, I mean… but yeah… I’m sorry, YN. I hope ya believe me when I say yer impo–”
Beep! You sighed, ending yet another voicemail from Atsumu. It’s been almost a week since you and your brother moved out of the apartment and ever since the day after that, your soulmate has yet to cease dropping more than three voicemails every single day.
It wasn’t that you haven’t caught sight of him at school; in fact, you see him everywhere. It’s just so happens that you couldn’t help but avoid him like a plaque. You think he knows it though and you’re actually glad that he’s trying to respect your space (except for the endless ringing of your phone which only gets sent straight to voicemail every time, much like today). Which is why right now, you only stared at his contact, contemplating whether you will entertain his ‘apology.’ He sounds like he regrets it, after all and the fact that you only have less than 10 days before your flight wasn’t helping the situation.
“You know, if you keep having a soft heart like that, I’m betting a hundred bucks you won’t get too far once you become a famous writer. A lot of people will take advantage of you, you know. And don’t even get me started with those haters that disguise themselves as critiques,” Speaking of the devil, Kiyoomi suddenly spoke up, his figure leaning against the doorway of your room, much like the pose your father had when you were leaving your previous apartment.
Hundred bucks, you begin to think, where the hell would your jobless ass get a hundred bucks? You won’t tell him that verbally, of course; you value your life too much to even risk being strangled by your brother’s own hands.
“What do you mean soft heart? Where’d you even get the idea that I’m going to talk to him, doofus!? No way, he needs to learn his lesson,” You huffed, turning to him with an eyebrow raised, as if challenging him. He scoffed, entering your room, and sitting on your bed. You were kind of surprised he did given that your room was still messy as hell; but once again, you opted to keeping your mouth shut.
“It’s written all over your face, dear sister. Plus, you’ve said that a million times already I���m actually tired of hearing it now. After all these years, you think I don’t memorize every habit you have?” He replied, hands taking some of the clothes that were still stored in a brown carton and beginning to fold them neatly before standing up and putting it into your closet. He really does take after your father, from appearances to characteristics, “Your eyes, they speak to me the loudest, telling me every bit of your feelings. In fact, I’m kind of puzzled Atsumu never found out through them. But then again, it just supports the truth that he’s as dumb as he could get.”
This boy doesn’t really miss a chance to voice out his disfavor for your soulmate, huh? You wonder what is it that made him dislike… no, wait dislike was an underestimation… rather, loath Atsumu to the core. Bad first impression? No, your brother was not that petty. Did they have a fight you never knew about? If Atsumu and him ever fought, you were sure as hell you’d be the first one to know, seeing as your best friend practically whines and complains at you at every single thing in his life… so why?
“He hurt you and not just once. It’s not supposed to be my business but technically speaking, you are my sister before you were his soulmate and that’s all I needed to dislike him,” said Kiyoomi, continuing to fold your clothes as if what he said was practically nothing. Was he a mind-reader? You don’t know but perhaps, you could try to convince him to start up a fortune-telling business with you and earn millions.
“… You’re so creepy, ‘Yoomi,” You spoke up after a few moments of silence while he sneered, obviously not pleased with your comical reply, “Forget it! God, it’s so hard to have a serious talk with you.”
You only pursed your lips before bursting out into laughter, making him glare at you before his eyes softened. He hasn’t heard that pure laughter in a long time, after all. For some odd reason, he is proud that it was him that made you happy again like that, even for just a short while. After watching you work on something he doesn’t really know what, probably for the play, (it’s a relief you still have a smile on your face while you were on it though), he stands up, stopping by the doorway again when he heard you speak, “Thanks for being there, ‘Yoomi. Can’t imagine my life without my best brother.”
Kiyoomi knows he’s far from being the best brother in the world; he wasn’t expressive, sweet nor overprotective… but hearing those words from you means he’s at least good and somehow, he’s fine with that. He remains quiet before saying, “You know, your friend Hajime, I think he’s nice.”
He doesn’t say anything more, but he knows that his words reached you; he didn’t miss the way you blushed, after all. He takes note of making you flustered more often.
Osamu grumbles under his breath in annoyance, clenching then unclenching his hands as he watched Yui cling onto his brother’s arm like there was no tomorrow. Doesn’t this girl have any decency left in her blood? They were in the public cafeteria of the university, good heavens! And they haven’t even officially became soulmates AND a couple.
The last thing he wanted on his agenda today was to become a third wheel, much less to his brother; and the fact that it’s not even with you, the true soulmate, his favorite Sakusa (he won’t let Kiyoomi know that though), and best drinking buddy, makes it more unbearable for the gray-haired lad. He could only scowl so hard at his twin, who on the other hand, remained unmoved. At least that’s what Osamu sees but unbeknownst to him, Atsumu just wishes he could go and find you as soon as possible.
He has had enough of you averting your gaze each time you catch each other’s eyes at the theater room. According to his brother, your flight is in ten days which means he only had a few more days to make your friendship right; to make it up to you and prove that you are, indeed, an important figure in his life (cue Osamu’s mocking last night when they talked: “HAH!? You sure do have a peculiar way of showing her that she’s important. You’re making me want to laugh and choke you at the same time.”)
“Oh! Iwaizumi-kun, Tooru and… Sakusa YN?” Yui trails off, making the blonde perk up at the sound of your name, turning his body quickly only to find you already looking back at them with… disappointed eyes? As quickly as it came, it disappeared and soon, you were smiling and waving at Osamu, completely ignoring your “best” friend. Atsumu can only stare at you in disbelief; never, not even once, had you disregarded his existence like that before. Even when you had small arguments, you made sure to acknowledge him with a simple nod.
In addition to your indifference, Hajime only furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at Yui’s greeting, as if he doesn’t know Yui at all, not even as an acquaintance. Hence, the three of you only proceeded to the table Makki, Mattsun and your brother saved for you.
“Eh? Iwaizumi… ignored me?” Yui frowned, obviously not used to being disregarded by the boy who used to give her a greeting every time they come across each other. As far as she could remember, they ended their bond in good terms, without anyone having to feel angry at the other so why is it that he acted that way? Did he hold a grudge after all?
Meanwhile, Atsumu gazed into nothing, your sad eyes flashing into his mind and staying there. Have you given up on him already? Did his nightmare that day actually came true? His trail of thoughts was cut off with Osamu’s voice speaking with amusement plastered on his face, “ooh, a taste of his own medicine, huh YN?”
He smirks, finding his brother’s suffering oddly satisfying. He too, like Kiyoomi, has his limits as to Atsumu’s undesired talent of hurting you (he knows the blonde was also suffering but you know, it just really gets on his nerves how blind his twin could get). So right after saying that, he stands up, picking up his tray that holds his food and beginning to walk where your table was.
“Samu! Where are you going?” The said lad looks back at his blonde twin weirdly before shrugging, “YN and Kiyoomi’s table, where else? You can’t expect me to stay on the table with you two, it’s weird.”
“So… you really can’t remember anything about your soulmate? Like who it is or something?” Oikawa asked, staring at Hajime’s hands, as if he’d be able to see anything on his pinky. Unfortunately for him, the ex-captain was not given the ability to be a Moira so he wouldn’t be able to see any changes no matter how long or hard he looks. The spiky-haired lad merely groans, feeling a headache coming due to his dear friend’s pestering, “Yes. I told you that already. I just woke up, saw my thread black and now, I can’t remember anything about who it is.”
“But you can remember us? It’s just the soulmate stuff you forgot?”
“Well, I’m talking to you right now, am I not, you dumbass?” Hajime snarled; an inch close to punching his best friend in the face. Beside him, you look down, feeling the sadness and heartbreak for him because even those feelings were lost the moment he woke up. If you let go of Atsumu, will this also happen to you? You can only give a pathetic laugh at your silly question; of course, it will. You weren’t some kind of special Moira that will be exempted from that ‘curse.’ But you wonder, how would he react? Would he be sad? Or would he just forget about you too and just throw everything you had away? It seems so easy for him to do that, after all.
Now that you witness what’s gonna happen upon cutting the thread, a part of you somehow wishes you should’ve just told him when it was still early, when you were still young and problem-free. Maybe he would’ve given you a promise like those in the movies wherein he says he would marry you once you get older. Maybe he would’ve been able to love you if you could’ve just given him a chance to do so. But it’s your fault, isn’t it? Because you were a coward; you were so greedy for true love that you can no longer have it, you think to yourself.
In the midst of your rather negative thoughts, a warm hand pulls you away from mentally beating up yourself further. Looking up, you find Hajime looking at you with soft eyes, as if assuring your heart that: “You’ll be fine. I’m here. I’ll keep you safe.”
Maybe… just maybe, the universe has given you another chance for true love.
marga's notes. I HAVE FOUND A NEW HUSBAND AND HIS NAME'S BENIMARU SHINMON
taglist is closed
#haikyuu smau#haikyuu x reader#atsumu smau#iwaizumi smau#atsumu x reader#iwaizumi x reader#haikyuu headcanons#atsumu headcanons#iwaizumi headcanons
456 notes
·
View notes
Text
#1 Victory Royale
✧ pairing: college student!spinner x student!afab!reader
✧ word count: 4.4k
✧ warnings: college au/no quirks, light angst, mostly soft/fluff, smut, could be hate fucking if you squint, afab reader but no pronouns, this is pretty tame, by like my standards, I wrote this at work, not really a warning, but it felt like you needed to know that
✧ summary: relationships suck and Spinner is starting to think maybe he does too
✧ ao3 mirror
✧ a/n: Hey y'all, welcome back to more college au bs from me. This is set in the same universe once again as all my other college pieces. A very sweet anon asked if we'd ever get to see more of Spinner, so here he is! Also with another cameo from shiggy's bitch (endearing) cause I can't help myself.
“Ughhhhhh….”
Spinner’s groaning echoed through the tiny apartment, the heavy sound of creaking couch cushions under his weight following.
“What?” his long-suffering roommate shouted out their bedroom door, rapidly shoving clothing and a toothbrush into an overnight bag.
“Uggghhhhhhh!”
He let out with another, louder dying animal wail. He’d been like this since they woke up—wallowing in some strange concoction of self pity and Red Bull on the kitchen floor when they walked in for water two hours ago.
“Motherfucker,” they mumbled, tossing their bag to the floor and marching, more than a little disgruntled, into the hall. “What do you want?”
Spinner was sitting upside down on the couch now, feet up against the wall tapestry and cotton candy hair splayed out on the floor. He stared blankly as his friend came into view—arms crossed, frowning at him from the end of the hall—and opened his mouth once more, letting out another garbled grunt that had one of the neighbors pounding twice on the wall to shut his dramatic ass up.
“Dude seriously, are you gonna tell me who pissed in your cereal or are you just gonna scream until the guys next door kick a hole through our wall?”
They almost felt bad as he looked away, sniffing and letting himself slump farther off the sofa until he was sprawled completely on the hardwood and staring, glassy eyed, up at the ceiling.
When he finally spoke a full sentence, his gaze was locked on the water stain above him from a year ago when the upstairs neighbors flooded their apartment trying to make jungle juice in the bathtub.
“I don’t know, I’m just in my feels as the kids say,” he sounded so dejected—strange for someone who was perpetually energized to a frustrating degree—that their shoulders immediately slumped from a hardass square to a softer, more sympathetic angle
They padded over to join him on the floor.
“Care to elaborate, oh roomie of mine?”
There was a pause and Spinner tapped his nails against the hardwood idly before responding.
“I guess I’m just feeling, like, fucking I don’t know,” he sighed, knocking his head against the dusty boards, “left out I guess? That’s not quite right, but it’s just Magne mentioned last time she came to The League meeting that Jin was seeing somebody and it just got me all introspective and weird…”
“Hm,” his roommate hummed thoughtfully and studied the way the textured white ceiling gave way to the rings of brown water damage, like a dead and dying flower, “I thought you and Jin weren’t ever that serious?”
“We weren’t,” Spinner groaned again and rubbed his eyes. “We went on like, one date a year ago and I haven’t thought about it really at all since then. I’m not sure why hearing he’s got someone else now made me so fucking...jealous I guess.”
“I mean, maybe you just never really gave yourself the time to process it?” they asked and received only an annoyed huff and accompanying groan. “Sorry, should have asked if you were looking for advice or just wanting to rant. My bad.”
“No, it’s fine. I think it’s just…”
Spinner trailed off and they shifted as the hard floor bit at their back and made it ache. The muscles were sore already as it was, and Tomura blowing their fucking back a few times a week wasn’t really helping. They’d created some kind of perpetually horny monster, but something told them cracking a joke about it wasn’t really going to help the situation much. Thankfully, Spinner found his way to filling the silence a minute later.
“I don’t think it has anything specifically to do with Jin. Yeah I liked him, we’re still really good friends and I don’t feel like I need him to be more than that. It’s just that—and this is gonna make me sound like a massive asshole—but with you and your new fucking boyfie and now even Jin finding someone to date I just keep seeing reminders everywhere of how motherfucking isolated I am.”
“Oh,” they felt their face burn a bit, guilt frothing as they were forced to acknowledge the fact that in all the time they’ve spent holed up with Tomura, Spinner had been discarded like an old Steam game, bought impulsively on sale and never played again. “I’m sorry I haven’t been prioritizing you—”
“No, no, no shut the fuck with that,” he waved his hand to cut them off and pushed himself up on his palms. “I know I’m not being fair about it, and I really am happy for you guys, but idk man….I just feel like I’m never gonna find that you know?”
Beside him, his roommate remained sprawled out on the floor like a homicide tape outline and was just as deadly quiet.
“I just,” he continued, running an angry hand through his hair, “I know I could be such a good partner. Like I’m funny and I’m not a fucking creep, which is actually a plus to most people.”
He shot a side glance down and they rolled their eyes, sitting up and knocking his shoulder roughly till he toppled back to the dirty floor and they stood above him.
“Fuck off,” they chuckled.
His roommate watched as the laughter seemed to infect him like a bad cold, creeping down the back of his throat and shaking in his chest.
“No I’m serious, I would be such a fucking great boyfriend. I give goddamn top quality cuddles and I actually know how to do laundry, what more does one need truly?”
“Damn bro, you’ve known how to fold your own clothes this whole time?”
The giggling spread into the quiet space, rocking through both their shoulders and leaving the air feeling light—fresh like the first nights of Spring. When it finally petered out into friendly silence, they were both far lighter.
“I just like the way you fold my t-shirts, the sleeves don’t get those weird creases when you do it,” he muttered and stood, doing his best to fix the wild pink locks that stood on end from his fidgeting.
“Yeah I’m sure,” his roommate rolled their eyes and turned back down the hall.
When they left for the night to stay over with their boyfriend, Spinner tried not to acknowledge the way he subconsciously glared at their back as they walked out the door, skipping yet another League meeting to swap spit with that guy from their English class.
He tried even harder not to think of how their bed would be warm and their legs would have legs to tangle with, their chest have a chest to lay against, while he heated up instant noodles in the microwave and fell asleep alone on their living room couch.
Not to mention that tonight was the big tournament with that new group on campus. He was really banking on his bff (best fucking friend as they were always sure to clarify) and him teaming up to crush those assholes from The Commission or whatever they called themselves.
Fucking lame as shit name in his opinion.
In any case, he’d have to settle for Magne again, and she was such a loose cannon they were sure to get their asses handed to them. She was a great fucking tank, he’d be the first to admit, but strategy was not a strong point of hers and they desperately needed that tonight.
He could feel the sinking weight of failure rolling in the pit of his stomach already even as he dragged himself into his room to tug on an old pair of jeans.
It bothered him way more than it should, the idea of losing some gaming tournament that, by all means held little to no actual significance.
Spinner knew the stock he’d started placing in games was growing to an unhealthy degree.
He knew that.
But self awareness rarely did anything to alleviate the irrational fear of failing at one of the only remaining consistencies in his life.
It stung worse when the tournament kicked off and by the third round, Spinner was the only remaining League member in the brackets.
“Fucking shit…” he muttered to himself, the small basement room alight with the blue glow of the monitor and the sound of frantically smashing controllers.
Behind him on the couch—stolen long ago from the theater building—Magne held him by the shoulders as he grit his teeth and leaned into the movement of his avatar on screen.
“You got this babe,” she shouted, cheek pressed up to his ear. “Make ‘em eat shit for me!”
“I would if you stopped distracting me,” Spinner hissed back.
Really it wasn’t Magne’s aggressive and somewhat bloodthirsty style of encouragement that shook his focus so badly.
It was his opponent.
The fucking president of The Commission sat, thighs spread and pressed to his, resting your weight on your elbows and snarling beside him in the couch.
Your face was split in this heart stopping grin as you quite deftly dodged all his attempts to get a hit in and managed to land a few of your own in the process.
And you looked really hot doing it.
Which was definitely just a side effect of the punch he (didn’t) drink and the body heat fueled temperature of the room—sweaty skin against sweaty skin making his mind wander against his will.
The shifting in his seat was absolutely just to illogically make him move faster and had nothing to do with how tight his pants now seemed.
So much for not being a fucking creep.
Your teammates were gathered in a circle behind you, enraptured and exuding the kind of smug confidence that said quite clearly The League was fucked from the second they walked in.
Not even two minutes later your hands were thrown up, punching the air and your team piling over the back of the couch to drown you in a sea of celebratory limbs.
Spinner felt himself deflating even as he was toppled off the couch by your screaming members and The League collectively cursed in the background.
Truthfully he’d known the chances of winning were slim.
Ever since his roommate started getting busy with classes and clubs that ‘looked good on their resume,’ The League had gone downhill rapidly. It was a problem since long before that Shigaraki guy swooped in and stole them away, but Spinner couldn’t stop himself from lowkey holding that against him.
The League had consumed so much of his life in college, functioning as a haven where he was finally respected and belonged to an extent he’d never experienced before.
The stink of failure and loss, not of the game but the only space he’d ever really occupied without complaint, burned his face and made the room feel more suffocating than usual.
Magne looked as though she wanted to give him one of her signature—and admittedly very comforting—hugs, but the deadly look of disappointment on Spinner’s face must have made her think twice.
The rest of his team seemed to read this sudden downward shift in the room as they began to filter out, climbing the steps onto street level and away from the suddenly stuffy, uncomfortable meeting spot. Normally everyone would stay and finish off the drinks snuck past the janitorial staff, eating Doritos until well past midnight. This time they couldn’t wait to be rid of him.
He couldn’t really blame them.
The multimedia building was a strange place after hours. Once Spinner might have called it something rare and liminal, now it felt more like a prison.
He stood, packing up the consoles a bit more roughly than necessary when someone cleared their throat behind him.
He turned to see you, standing alone with hands on your hips and scowling like you were the one who just got their gaming reputation ruined.
“Dude what the fuck was that?”
Spinner bristled at the knife sharp point of your tone.
“Really?” he asked incredulously. “You seriously waited around to rub your win in my face?”
You rolled your eyes and took a step closer around the couch. “I’m not talking about the fucking game dumbass. Why the hell are you pouting like I stole your fucking candy or some shit? You ruined the vibes man.”
“If anyone was ruining the vibes, it was you and your cocky ass team.”
Spinner felt himself stepping closer too, pulled in by the celestial weight that accompanied any kindling argument.
“Me?” you pointed to your chest and scoffed, “Wow, I was really hoping you’d actually possess a bit of emotional maturity, but if this is how you get after a loss I’m not shocked your fucking club is bleeding members.”
At some point the two of you had gravitated close enough that he felt the puff of your last breath on his cheeks. Two comets, ready and willing to collide.
“I’m not being the asshole in this situation, you know that right?” Spinner glared down his nose at you, heart pounding in his ears. “Maybe you shouldn’t make fucking unfounded assumptions about people you don’t know.”
“So then why are your panties in a twist over a fucking game?” you retorted.
He was peripherally aware that your eyes had taken on the same laser focused quality as they had during the last round. Determined and locked onto him without sparing a glance to anything else.
It was this same undivided attention that he’d envied in you as you played, and as Spinner felt it trained on him, his pants once again felt uncomfortably restrictive.
“It’s not about the fucking game okay!?” his voice came out hoarse and far more petulant than he’s been aiming for.
Though he quickly felt the embarrassment give rise to a secondary heat as you both breathed each other’s air and searched the face across from you.
“Then what is it about?”
That strange, unexplainable, inexplicable rush of potential filled the small gap that remained between your bodies—the kind of tension Spinner was beginning to think he’d never feel again.
He’d kissed plenty of people. Almost more than he’d like to admit, or that they’d like to admit more accurately.
But when his flickering eyes found your hard stare still and unwavering from his, it felt incredibly natural to lean in and press his lips against your fading frown.
It was slow going, the few centimeters that separated you seemed like miles as he moved slowly, never breaking eye contact until his mouth was finally slotted over yours and you weren’t pushing him away.
There was still a bit of lingering confusion, as this was decidedly not what either of you appeared to be expecting from the prior conversation. That coupled with the fact that Spinner wasn’t entirely sure he remembered your first name made the feeling of your tongue prodding at the seam of his lips all the more startling.
When he gasped, you slid your hands up his chest and licked into his mouth. Tongue tangling between breaths, Spinner felt himself getting lost in the familiar and coveted taste of another mouth, another body, another hand that grasped, that desired, that wanted him.
***
Your knees dug into the cushions on either side of Spinner’s thighs as you bounced in his lap. He fought to keep his eyes open against the pleasure of his cock sinking into you over and over again, so he could watch the way your head was thrown back and your chest heaved with the exertion.
He dug his hands into your hips and let his head hit the back of the couch, feet planted on the floor to help his hips thrust up into you, earning him some of the prettiest, stifled moans he’d ever heard.
Truthfully, he had not expected to fuck you. He figured you might be down to just make out for a bit until the cleaning staff came and booted you from the building, but both your pants had quite quickly and naturally found their way to the floor.
Neither of you spoke much, which he was thankful for. That would have been far too complicated of a conversation, especially considering you really didn’t know each other all that well.
Spinner usually liked to do a bit of ‘getting to know you’ type activities before he hooked up with people, which he did with surprising frequency for somebody so starved for a long term thing. Sex just fucking felt good and it was this eagerness that was his downfall. Most people he’d fucked around with seemed to read the urge to get into their pants as a diminished interest or emotional attraction and Spinner ended up with more friends with benefits than actual friends...or benefits.
Regardless, it was fine by him that the only form of communication passing between you for now were scattered groans of pleasure and the wet slap of your ass against his thighs.
He’d nearly forgotten how fucking amazing pussy felt.
For no particular reason, Spinner had always found himself fooling around with bodies more similar to his own. Not that he had any real preference, though the lack of experience often made him a bit nervous in the whole ‘pleasing your partner’ department, despite many helpful lessons from his roommate.
That was all to say that Spinner was incredibly thankful you reached down to guide his hand that had clumsily begun rubbing circles on your clit. That is until you simply knocked it away and went back to riding his dick like a fucking champ.
Then he did speak.
“Wanna make you cum,” he mumbled and really did sound like he was pouting this time.
You peered down at him, slowing your pace so you sat flush in his lap, grinding his cock deep against your walls. Spinner keened as you clenched around him, pussy so deliciously warm he felt himself near to drowning in the feel of you.
“Mm fuck,” you panted, leaning in to steal a few more messy kisses from him before lifting up and enveloping him in the slick heat all over again. “Don’t worry about it.”
“No,” he nipped at the column or your throat, careful not to leave any lasting marks just in case. “If I’m finishing, you’re fucking finishing.”
You pulled back and stared at him for a moment. He felt you purposefully tightening around him just so he would squirm under your curious gaze. After a moment you smirked and rolled your eyes again, taking his hand and guiding his fingers back to that little nub just above where his thick length was seated inside you.
Spinner was proud of his dick, it was hefty but not so long that it was a hassle to fit—just enough to reach all the important bits. He was sensitive as hell too most of the time, so just about any pressure felt amazing. But the best part of it was watching whoever he was fucking fall apart on his goddamn perfect cock.
So when you whispered, “Like this,” and showed him the rhythm and motion you liked, he pulled himself back from the brink to pay attention, speeding up until that look of cooled control slid right off your face.
“Ahh, yes fuck...” the words tumbled from you freely now. “Shit, yeah just like that—”
Spinner could get fucking drunk off the low groan that left you as he planted his feet more firmly and bucked his hips up. He must have hit something good by the way you choked and moaned boarding on too loud, though he had neither the heart nor self control to stop you.
“Feel good?” he grunted, picking up the pace and force he thrust into you, so that you had to loop your arms around his neck and hold tightly as he speared you on his cock.
“Fuck...yes..” you whimpered into his shoulder which did wonders for his ego.
Spinner kept up his rubbing frantic patterns on your clit and feeling the gradual constriction of your walls around him—the coil growing tight and ready to snap. He nudged your cheek with his until you pulled back a bit to face him.
“I want to see you,” he murmured, sucking your tongue into his mouth for a moment and tearing himself away so he could watch as you came undone around him.
You gave him a strange, soft look and pressed your forehead to his, eyes zoned in on only him.
The rest of the room, the whole fucking basement and campus melted away under that stare.
Your nipples peaked through your shirt, brushing against his as you were jostled into him by the movement of your hips. As you reached your peak, words devolved into increasingly breathy gasps. It took Spinner an incredible amount of concentration not to fucking paint your insides then and there.
Your pussy was so goddamn tight and warm and milking him just right, it was a fucking impressive feat to remain staunchly at the edge of his peak as your mouth fell open and your fingernails scratched at his back when you finally came—the telltale spasms around his cock and the near sobs coming from you more than enough indication.
He lost himself well and truly then.
Lost in the false sense of intimacy that came with being allowed to see you fall apart, this person he barely knew yet made him feel immensely important in that moment. Your breath and spit was in his mouth, the smell and feel of you soaking his length pushed him beyond the realm of conscious thought.
There was only a deep and burning need to be closer to you. So, so much closer.
His hands moved of their own accord, hooking under your thighs and flipping your bodies so your back hit the cushions and he hovered above you. The angle allowed him to slide deeper, pulling out and thrusting his hips in fast, hard strokes that hurtled him towards release.
Spinner couldn’t keep himself quite now either, panting and moaning and gasping unashamedly with his eyes screwed shut as you took his cock so unbelievably well.
It wasn’t until your hands, softer than he’d imagined, cupped his jaw and pulled him down to meet you that he was brought back down from whatever higher plane of existence his impending orgasm whisked him too.
Your lips weren’t nearly as frantic as the rocking of his thighs, the slap of his balls against your ass. The sweetness was an odd but welcome contrast.
“I’m gonna—fucking mm...” he tried so hard to get his tongue to form the words but he could feel himself slipping further as you started clamping around his length again.
“I know,” you breathed against his lips, faces pressed together and unmoving eyes steady on his own. “Ahh, inside if you want.”
He did want.
Oh fuck did he want nothing more in that moment to stay sunk in your warmth and pump you so full, but the last few remaining logical braincells reminded him that was not a great idea. Not without a more in-depth conversation neither of you was in a state to have.
“Shouldn’t...” he groaned and moved to pull out but your ankles locked around his ass and forced him back down.
“It’s okay,” you huffed and rocked into him, squeezing around the sensitive head of his dick just once, just right and that did him in.
It was something in the way you looked at him, so that he could feel nothing but secure—nothing but safe wrapped up in you. Something about the way you pressed him closer, in the movement of your thumb on his cheek.
It scratched some deep seated, lonely itch in Spinner.
Made it feel like this meant a hell of a lot more than it probably did.
In seconds he was blowing his fucking load right into you, milking himself in your heat until he was spent and overstimulated. You were kind enough to pull him to you, turning your bodies so you laid side by side on the coach, his softening cock slipping from you in a gush of release.
For a minute or so, neither of you spoke, just stared, long and comfortable at the stranger you’d just fucked on the gaming club couch.
Well.
Fucked wasn’t really the word he’d use at that point to describe what you’d just done, but anything more than that felt presumptuous.
You broke the silence as he nuzzled into your palm.
“You really needed that didn’t you?”
Spinner couldn’t help the familiar, infectious laugh that rattled in his chest. He liked the smile it earned him, far more genuine than any others you’d worn that night.
“Uh, yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I guess I did.”
You hummed, nodding in response. “Mm, me too.”
And somehow, for no real logical reason, Spinner knew you understood. That you felt the same isolation, the same starvation for love, for holding weight in someone else’s world.
That the games were just a placeholder, a way to fill the space, to get lost in other lives, in other stories where he did matter. Where his actions had foreseeable and measurable worth. That’s why it hurt to lose. Not for the glory, but for the destruction of the only remaining diversion from how empty his reality felt.
Even if it wasn’t really.
Even if there were friends and benefits and friends who offered both. His roommate could let him rest his head in their lap on movie nights or sleep in his bed on occasion when the heat went out and he got cold too quickly. But none of that quite filled the hole like you now, holding his face and knowing the struggle without him having to explain it.
Nothing like you pulling him in and kissing him too familiarly for someone he’d only known a day.
Magne used to say something about shit like this. Something like how people bond in train cars when there’s a rat eating a slice of pizza and you all watch it happen. Some weird camaraderie forged in the shared experience of life being a little fucking freaky a lot of the time.
That was how it felt when you slipped your leg between his and brushed your lips together again. Content to lay, half naked in the media building basement, making out with some guy you beat at Smash and fucked right after.
Reveling in the brief but meaningful feeling of mattering in some small, strange way to someone else.
Of holding weight.
Of being held.
#spinner x reader#shuichi iguchi x reader#spinner x y/n#spinner x you#college au#mha angst#student!reader
101 notes
·
View notes
Text
enemies to lovers/band!au
okay yeah heres the final one, the big boy, the one im probably proudest of, i really really hope you guys like it!!
Matteo was lucky that the conductor liked him, because showing up 10 minutes late to the first rehearsal of the year was bad, even for him. Matteo wasn’t known to be the most responsible member of the band, and usually the only thing he could be counted on to do right every rehearsal was show up, and show up on time. He adjusted his grip on his baritone case as he sped down the hall of the music department, cursing as he checked the time on his phone again, and when he got to the door of the theater they rehearsed in, he cracked it open as quietly as he could.
“Ah, Matteo!” the conductor yelled from the stage, and Matteo flinched before stepping fully into the room, “You decided to show up! I was worried you quit after playing that really loud wrong note at the concert last semester.”
“Which one?” Matteo joked back, knowing that if it was any other professor he would have just apologized and rushed to put his instrument together. He was on a first name basis with Rick, who was probably the most laid back member of the music faculty. Some of the players on stage laughed at the exchange, and Matteo smiled as he popped his case open.
“Just hurry up, we do actually need a full band to rehearse,” Rick said, turning back to his stand with a chuckle, “and poor David looks like he’s going to explode if we don’t start soon.”
Matteo rolled his eyes. As if that would make him set his baritone up faster. He ignored the second wave of laughter that followed the conductor’s comment and grabbed the folder with his music, and made his way onto the stage. He took his seat next to the other baritones, in the third chair, and tried to ignore the glare he could feel coming from the clarinet section.
Matteo was a little upset that he had missed his favorite part of each rehearsal; before Rick got there, when people were still whispering to their stand partners, some quietly tuning their instruments or practicing difficult measures, some tapping their feet and counting out the beats. It felt more alive than when everyone was coming together to play one piece, and while Matteo loved the sound of a full band playing beautiful music, he really needed that calm before the storm. It reminded him that the music that he listened to came from people like him, who had to practice and tune and count and focus to produce the notes and phrases that seemed to flow so naturally.
He risked a glance over at David when Rick asked him to play a note so he could tune the band to it, and, like always, felt a little bit of a shiver run through him when he watched David take a deep breath before playing out a long, perfectly in-tune note. He knew it wasn’t only because of the sound of the clarinet, which Matteo secretly thought was the nicest sounding of all the wind instruments. Although David couldn’t stand him, and Matteo didn’t have too many kind feelings towards him either, it was hard to deny that first of all, David was an amazing musician, and second of all, much less importantly, he was really hot.
Matteo didn’t feel bad for thinking it. Every person in the band who was into men was into David. Matteo would hear girls whispering about him while they were setting up their flutes and oboes, and there was the one guy in the saxophone section who had been trying to get his number for a year. It was old news, but Matteo couldn’t help himself from staring at David when he had long measures of rests, and had to admit that David was the cause of his distraction during some rehearsals.
Rick finished tuning the band, and had them flip to the piece that Matteo was the least confident in. He looked up and took a breath with the whole band when the conductor brought his arms up, and dropped his eyes back to the notes a split second before the downbeat.
Inevitably, Matteo got to a part in the song where he had four measures of rest, and he leaned back in his chair a bit and stretched his neck out. He was counting on his fingers and tapping his foot to the tempo and managed to come back in at the right time, only for Rick to cut them off as he flipped aggressively through the papers on his stand.
“Where is the second page? Why do I only have half of the score here?” He asked angrily, and then huffed and said, “Okay, everyone take out the next piece. David, take over for me.”
Matteo rolled his eyes as Rick walked off the stage, and David took his place in front of the band. David always got the most cocky, smug look whenever he was asked to conduct, and some people rolled their eyes because they knew David was harsher, faster, and much less forgiving than Rick was.
“Okay guys, remember we tried to play this last semester, but some people couldn’t keep up,” his eyes flicked to Matteo, who just shrugged, and then smiled as the frown on David’s face deepened and he continued, “as long as everyone watches me, we’ll be able to get through it. Let’s start at the beginning.”
That won’t be too hard, Matteo thought to himself, and smiled before bringing his lips to the mouthpiece.
They got through the first half of the song with no issues, David going slower than usual to let people warm up to playing it again. Matteo knew that the only reason he hadn’t messed up yet was because his eyes were glued to his sheet music, but he saw that the tempo was changing in a few measures so he would have to look up. Once he did, he caught sight of the serious expression on David’s face, his eyes scanning over the band and darting down to the score in front of him, his arms waving and emphasizing different beats in a fluid and practiced way, keeping the tempo while cuing the other instruments to come in.
“Stop, stop! You were supposed to come in there, baritones, what happened? Are we playing too slow for you?”
Matteo (and everyone else) knew that when David was yelling at the baritones, he was really yelling at Matteo. His animosity was known amongst the other students in the band, so they weren’t surprised to hear a critique aimed at that section of the low brass. That was confirmed when Matteo looked up to see David glaring directly at him, his hand that wasn’t holding the baton clenched tightly around the stand.
They got through the rest of the song with no incidents, Matteo purposefully playing quieter to avoid making any loud mistakes. Rick came back just as David was berating them for speeding up at the end, and he clapped him on the shoulder before waving the missing pages of his score in the air.
“Thank you, David, for re-traumatizing your bandmates. Let’s go back to the first piece, and I promise I won’t yell as much as he did.”
The band laughed and David chuckled (at least he’s self aware, Matteo thought to himself) as he took his seat, with one final glance in Matteo’s direction. They could both see each other from where they were sitting, David being at the end of the second row and Matteo diagonal across from him in the back. He watched as David settled back into his seat and picked his clarinet up, his tongue flicking out to wet the reed, and when David���s eyes shifted back over to him he blushed and looked down at the floor. He scowled, angry that he got caught staring.
***
He struggled through the first week, playing confidently when he could and quieting down whenever he got lost until he could figure out where they were again. Sometimes he found himself so confused he would whisper out of the corner of his mouth, “Where are we?” to his stand partner, and she would roll her eyes before pointing out the correct measure.
The next week of rehearsals, Matteo started out on a much better foot. He was running early as opposed to late, and he hummed to himself as he strolled calmly down the hall leading to the theater. There was one measure of their newest song that he just couldn’t get right, and he flipped open his folder as he walked, knowing that the page with that measure would be at the front. He stopped paying attention to where he was walking, tapping out the beat of the notes on his hip, and just as he turned the corner into the room he crashed into someone leaving, and heard an annoyed, “Are you serious?”
He tensed when he recognized David’s voice, and looked up to see the exact glare he was expecting aimed directly at him. He almost missed the stack of papers that David had dropped, and only noticed when one sheet landed perfectly on top of his open folder.
“Sorry,” Matteo muttered, not knowing what else to say, “let me help.”
“No, I’ll do it,” David snapped back, the glare on his face darkening a little as he snatched the paper on top of Matteo’s folder and said, “I had them organized by section, and by part. You’d just fuck it up. Go set up.”
Matteo took a deep breath through his nose, tired of being torn down every single time David spoke to him, and he took another breath before glaring back and saying, “I wouldn’t fuck it up. I know how sheet music works.”
“Yeah, but if Rick wanted you doing any of this I’m sure he would have asked,” David scoffed, kneeling down so he could gather the papers together, “but he didn’t.”
Matteo bit his lip as felt something angry building in his stomach, and he knew it wasn’t professional or smart of him to do but he couldn’t help but bite back, “Look, we all know that you’re just using us to set yourself up for the future, and that’s fine, but it doesn’t give you the excuse to be a fucking asshole all the time.”
He stormed off before he could see David’s reaction, and set his baritone up with trembling fingers. He was already in his seat and tuned up by the time David stalked into the theater with all of the papers, and Matteo watched with a smug grin as David quietly apologized to Rick for being late before handing off the sheet music and taking his seat. He grabbed his clarinet, his fingers pressing down on the keys harder than was probably good for them, and shot Matteo one final, piercing glare before turning to his music. Matteo smiled to himself as the conductor got everyone’s attention.
***
Things got a little more tense after that.
Getting even more on the bad side of the most talented, and most respected (and most feared) musician in the band was not Matteo’s best idea, but he had no idea how to fix it, and didn’t even know if he cared enough to.
Matteo didn’t know exactly what he was going to do once he graduated, but assumed that he’d figure something out. Pit bands were always looking for fresh talent, so he assumed that he would join one of those and get some menial job on the side while he waited to see where his life would lead. He knew that David, on the other hand, had a plan, and it seemed like their interaction in the hallway led David to believe that Matteo was the one thing standing in his way.
Another week of rehearsals went by, Matteo trying his best not to mess up, and failing almost every session. He knew that his conductor was starting to get a little frustrated, and he didn’t know how to explain that his new bout of issues weren’t coming from a lack of understanding the music; it was just difficult to play when you could feel someone openly glaring at you anytime the first clarinets had rests in the music. He and David hadn’t spoken or interacted at all since the incident in the hallway. They had never really spoken before that, so it wasn’t too unusual, but that amount of glaring was new.
And after a day or two, Matteo started glaring back. He would only do it when David wasn’t looking at him, either focused on the music or counting or watching the conductor, and it felt like the smallest form of retaliation that Matteo was willing to participate in. He knew that he couldn’t talk back to Rick, and he was doing all he could to avoid having to actually speak with David, so the glaring was a good alternative.
It was also a bit of a problem, the glaring. Sometimes Matteo would get lost in his own anger, resulting in him getting lost in the music, and Rick would stop the band and tell the baritones to pay attention to the music, not their bandmates, and Matteo would whip his head back to his music, his cheeks red at being caught.
It came to a head during one rehearsal, the first rehearsal since the glaring had started where Rick had to step out of the room. He handed David his baton and walked off with a wave of his hand, and Matteo noticed David smirking in his direction as he took up the position in front of the band.
“Okay, we’re going to start at measure 46,” David said, his eyes yet again scanning over every member of the band, squinting a little as they passed over Matteo, “the low brass has really been struggling with this section, and I’m going to take it faster so we can see exactly who is having trouble.”
Matteo’s eyes widened as he looked over the part David was referencing, realizing quickly that it was the hardest set of measures for the baritone section out of all of their pieces. He looked up again, trying to look determined despite the nerves starting to make his fingers twitch on the valves of his baritone, and caught David smirking at him again. David raised the baton, and Matteo lifted his baritone to his mouth and tried to focus his eyes on the music.
He managed to play through the first few measures correctly, but his nerves got the best of him and he messed up in one of the worst ways you can mess up as a musician; playing during a full-band rest. He felt his entire body tense up as half the band turned to stare at him, and he knew that it was the perfect excuse for David to go off on him.
“I heard that in the baritones, don’t let me hear it again.” David said sternly, the tip of the baton pointing right at Matteo. He looked mad, but there was something slightly encouraging there too, like he was trying to give Matteo another chance.
Matteo was surprised but grateful that his mistake didn’t send David into a fit and really tried to take that second chance and run with it. They started playing again, and Matteo made it through that measure, and then managed to mess up on the next one. He held one note too long and then played a sharp instead of a flat, and David didn’t stop the band but his head flicked to Matteo and he gave him a look that made his fingers freeze, and it took him a measure to come back in because for some reason that look scared him more than the many critiques and looks he had gotten in the past. David looked furious, as if Matteo was messing up intentionally.
They played through the rest of the section, Matteo getting less tense the more measures he played right, and just as they reached the last measure Rick came back into the theater, the door creaking a little behind him, but enough that it distracted Matteo, who not only played the last note wrong, but he felt his face heat up at the monstrous honk that came out the bell of his instrument.
“Matteo!” David snapped, and his other hand grabbed the top half of the baton and quickly bent it, snapping that as well.
Most of the band gasped, Matteo included. David seemed shocked himself, staring down at the fractured wood in his hands. Rick walked up to him and without saying a word, grabbed the two pieces, and turned to face the band with a stoic expression.
“I think I’ll call it for today, everyone. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, before dropping a hand onto David’s shoulder and looking up at Matteo and saying, “You two, in my office.”
Matteo gulped, and tried to ignore the look on David’s face as he got out of his seat and made his way over to his case. He put his baritone away slowly, watching as the rest of the band filtered out through the main doors, some shooting him sympathetic looks as they walked out. He might not have been the best member of the band, but he was nice enough that most people liked him enough, and probably felt bad knowing that he was about to get screamed at. He looked away when he saw David walk into Rick’s office hot on his heels, already saying something that would probably get Matteo in more trouble.
He made his way over to the office once he had all of his stuff together, and took a deep breath before knocking on the door and walking in. He entered and saw Rick sitting at his desk, looking annoyed, and David standing in front of him with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked like he had just finished ranting, his face red and his chest heaving, and he turned to fix Matteo with a glare as he walked into the room.
“I don’t know why two of my best musicians hate each other as much as you guys do,” he started, and Matteo’s eyes widened a bit at the bluntness of his statement along with the compliment, “but you need to work it out before next week.”
“Sir, I don’t know if I’d say he’s one of the best-” David started, his voice hiding the hint of a pretentious laugh, and before thinking about it Matteo cut him off.
“You don’t know shit about how I play.”
David turned to him with tight lips and said, “Well, I’ve conducted you before, so I think I have a pretty good idea.”
“Yeah, how could I forget being verbally abused.”
“It wasn’t abuse, if you aren’t going to play right I’m going to say something and I’m sorry if I don't sugarcoat it. I focus on being right, not on being nice.”
“Yeah, obviously.” Matteo muttered under his breath, and just as David turned to him to snap back at him, Rick clapped his hands together, loudly.
“Okay, I know what we’re going to do to fix this.”
***
That was how Matteo found himself the next day, an hour before band was supposed to start, during his only free period of the day, making his way to the music building so he could get to the practice rooms. He was walking slow, making sure to be on time but exactly on time, because he didn’t want to spend a second longer with David than he had to.
To their chagrin, Rick decided that the best way for the two to get along was for David to help Matteo figure out the parts of the music that he was struggling with. He had set up mandatory twice a week private sessions for both of them. Matteo had a feeling they wouldn’t make it past the first week without screaming at each other.
Matteo got to the door of the room he was meant to meet David in, and he could hear shuffling so he knew David was there already. He rolled his eyes and braced himself before pushing into the room.
“Put your instrument together,” David said, not even looking at Matteo as he set two chairs up in front of a stand, “ and get your music out. Let’s not be here any longer than we have to be.”
David finally turned around when Matteo didn’t move, and raised an eyebrow at him. Matteo had been expecting the hostility, and knew what he wanted to say in response.
“If we’re being forced to do this,” he said calmly, dropping his baritone case on the chair and popping it open, “I’m not going to let you be a dick to me. You need to be here just as much as I do. If you’re mean I’ll walk out, and then we’re both fucked. Don’t test me.”
He turned and started setting his baritone up, not waiting for David to react or respond to what he said. He only looked up at him once he sat in the chair and had his music on the stand, and he was surprised to see David look down at the ground, his face almost completely neutral except for the corners of his lips, which were twitching up a little.
“Fine,” David said, sitting down in the other chair, moving his leg quickly when his knee bumped into Matteo’s, “Play it right and I won’t be a dick.”
Matteo rolled his eyes but figured that was the best he was going to get, so he took a deep breath before bringing his mouthpiece up to his lips.
He played through the first few measures that David pointed at, trying to be as quick as he could while still following the tempo David was tapping out and playing the notes correctly. He knew that he had nowhere to hide if he messed up. Not that he really did during their bigger rehearsals, but he also felt much more confident playing by himself. He knew he wasn’t going to mess up the timing of anything, but he was worried about a set of measures near the end that had a beat that was so complicated he couldn’t figure it out.
He messed up right away when they got to it and he stopped, expecting David to make some harsh comment that would have him snapping back, but was surprised when his only reaction was, “Go back a few measures, try it again.”
He tried again and messed it up the same way, and then tried again, before putting his baritone down with a huff. He was frustrated at himself for messing it up, especially for messing it up in front of David, knowing that there was no way he wouldn’t say something sarcastic or rude after Matteo messed up for the third time.
“Why are you counting it like that?” David asked, his voice surprisingly devoid of any mocking or cruel tone. He sounded genuinely curious, but Matteo was still wary.
“I don’t know, because that’s how it looks?” He answered quickly, rolling his eyes, shifting uncomfortably under his horn.
“If I’m promising not to be a dick, you need to promise to take this seriously,” David said, turning to look directly at Matteo for the first time since the lesson had started, “I know you don’t really care about all this, but I do, so if that means teaching you how to fucking count I’ll do it. Now, play it again, but right.”
“Who says I don’t care?” Matteo asked, keeping his baritone firmly in his lap, “And I know how to count. That measure just makes no fucking sense.”
“Yes it does, you just aren’t counting it right,” David said, his voice tight, and he took a breath before saying more calmly, “here, give me your horn, I’ll show you.”
Matteo hesitated before handing it over, and he sighed a little in relief when David took Matteo’s mouthpiece off and took another one out of his bag.
Matteo was always impressed at the sound that David was able to pull out of any instrument he touched. There were multiple times where their conductor would ask David to grab an extra trumpet or sax or flute or set of mallets for a marimba, and would shove him wherever the band needed extra help. The only reason he never sent him to sit with Matteo’s section was because they didn’t have any extra horns, and Matteo was beyond grateful for that.
David pointed at the measure, and said, “See, you’re playing this,” he played out the beat that Matteo had been playing and then stopped and said, “but that amount of notes doesn’t fit in the measure, you’re adding an extra one in the middle. It’s supposed to sound like this,” he raised the baritone to his lips again and played out the measure, tapping his foot loudly as he continued playing so Matteo could hear how that measure fit into the rest of the phrase.
He gave Matteo the horn back after switching the mouthpieces again, and Matteo hesitated before starting to play again, and when he got to the measure and played it the way David showed him, it flowed perfectly into the next one and he even saw David smile a little.
“Yeah, you got it that time,” David said, and Matteo smiled back at him before turning back to his music as David said, “now let’s fix this other part.”
***
After a couple of weeks of the private sessions, Matteo was starting to sense a pattern. They would be completely civil during their one-on-one sessions, David only critiquing when necessary and only with comments that were actually helpful, and then they would get to band and it would start all over again. Matteo would get lost, Rick would snap at his section, he would look over and see David glaring at him or shaking his head in disappointment.
He didn’t know why it was getting to him in a way that it hadn’t before. He always knew that David was a little tougher on him than others, but he had really been hoping that the private sessions would stop the glares and the looks and the scoffs whenever he messed up. If anything, the private sessions only made the actual rehearsals worse.
The second boiling point was reached their third week of the private sessions. Matteo had sat through his perfectly cordial hour with David before band, and was even looking forward to playing that day. He felt like he had finally nailed the set of measures that he and David had been working on so he was excited for Rick to hear him play it right. He was so giddy about it that he even smiled when he caught David looking at him from across the band. David had raised a confused eyebrow at him before shifting his gaze back to the front of the band, and Matteo blushed and looked down at the ground, feeling a little silly.
Again, after a little while the conductor had to step away, and again David took his place at the stand, and picked up the baton. He looked right at Matteo as he told the band that they were going to start a few measures before the one Matteo had been messing up, and he sat up a little straighter and returned the look, nodding when David finished speaking. David nodded the slightest bit back at him before raising his arms, and Matteo breathed with the rest of the band before bringing his mouthpiece up to his lips.
And it was like nothing had changed. Matteo found himself getting lost watching David’s waving his arms in all directions, wild but completely in control of himself and the band. He missed one note and David’s eyes flicked to him, and held there as Matteo panicked and stumbled his way through the measure that he had spent two weeks of private lessons fixing.
He saw David’s jaw clench and he cut the band off with a sharp wave of his hand, before turning his full body in Matteo’s direction to say, “So the last few weeks have been a total waste of my time?”
Matteo didn’t think before standing up and walking off the stage, and out of the theater. He ignored the whispers and looks that followed him out, didn’t think about when he was going to be able to go back and get his case and bag and music, and he walked to the hallway of practice rooms and entered one, slamming the door behind him.
***
He emailed Rick and got permission to skip rehearsal the next day, the conductor ending the email with We really need to figure this out before your issues with David end up hurting the rest of the band. Matteo had read the response and collapsed back into bed, glaring over at his baritone (in the case, his roommate and friends brought his stuff out for him after he left).
It was also the first night of the first concert in the music department. Matteo wasn’t performing but he was required to go, and as he got himself ready in his appropriate concert attire, he worried over the fact that David was going to be there, to perform and to watch. Matteo couldn’t think of something he’d like to do less than watch the dude who embarrassed him in front of their entire band perform and get endless praise for it.
Matteo sat quietly next to his friends throughout the concert, and when David walked onto the stage, he felt himself tense up. His best friend Jonas, a trumpet player who was more than aware of the situation in and out of rehearsal, put a hand on his leg and squeezed, trying to offer a bit of comfort. Matteo smiled tightly at him as David lifted his clarinet to his lips and took a deep breath.
No matter how much Matteo hated him, he couldn’t ignore the fact that David was the best clarinet player he had ever heard. It was like his body and his clarinet were formed together, the way he breathed sound through it and moved around it, how quickly he could run his fingers over the keys and play the most complicated string of notes without a single flaw. Matteo found himself entranced by the song David played, and he opened his eyes when the last note faded out into the otherwise silent theater, and he watched as David kept his clarinet up for a beat after the song finished before his eyes opened, and they looked directly into Matteo’s as the audience clapped around him.
He looked away as quickly as he could, ignoring the face Jonas made at his sudden movement, and tried to focus his attention completely on the girl who stepped up next with her violin. He only let his eyes flick to David once more before the concert was over, and while his view was obscured because David was sitting a few rows ahead of him, Matteo could see his fingers twitching in his lap, probably resisting the urge to make the player follow his lead. The concert was over after that last girl, and Matteo turned to his friends quickly to stop himself from staring in David’s direction again.
Coincidentally, (or not at all) the night of the first concert in the music department was also the night of the first party being held by some people in the percussion section, a couple of guys who had a big house that was perfect for hosting a bunch of drunk but mild-mannered music majors.
Matteo had barely even wanted to go, knowing that his reputation amongst the rest of the band was not a great one. He wasn’t hated, but most only knew of him because of the amount of times per rehearsal the conductor would have to stop and critique the baritones (him) or tell the baritones (him) what measure they were on, and now because of all the new drama with David. He also didn’t want to face his bandmates after walking out during the last rehearsal, but the pushing and prodding of his friends made him reluctantly agree.
“Dude, we’re gonna get you so fucked up you can’t even think about what an asshole Schreibner is,” Carlos said as they made their way to the house.
Matteo snorted as they turned onto the correct block, and they quickly spotted the house that was holding the party. There were lights and music loud enough that they could hear it down the street, and Carlos and Abdi started whooping before running over to it.
“You don’t have to go in if you don’t want to,” Jonas said when Matteo hesitated near the front door.
Matteo waited another second before shoving into the house, and throwing back over his shoulder, “Who cares about that asshole, I want to drink!”
And drink he did. Matteo was on his third beer after only twenty minutes, and he was considering it a win that he hadn’t seen David yet. He could feel himself getting more drunk, and didn’t know what he would even say to David if he saw him. He was glad that the little corner of the room he and his friends had grabbed seemed to be pretty hidden away.
Matteo was handed a joint after a little while and he grabbed it quickly, sticking the end in his mouth and taking a deep hit. He closed his eyes as he blew the smoke out his nose, and took another hit as he opened his eyes slowly, and saw David walk into the room. He didn’t seem to notice Matteo though, seemingly focused on getting to someone that was standing in the opposite corner.
“I didn’t know that David and Leonie are friends,” Carlos said quietly, staring over at the two, “she’s in the orchestra with Kiki. I heard she’s just like David but worse.”
“Matteo would love her, then,” Jonas said, ruffling his hair, and he flipped him off before taking another hit and passing the joint along.
“Why are talented and attractive people such assholes,” Matteo said, and when the three other boys turned to him, their eyes wide, he asked, “what?”
“Did you just say something nice about David?” Abdi asked with a grin, and Matteo rolled his eyes as the boys all oooohed.
“Me saying he’s attractive and talented isn’t nice, especially when that was the lead up to me calling him an asshole,” Matteo said, grabbing the joint when it was handed back to him, “I don’t have a single nice thing to say about David. He can play good, but he’s a piece of shit and nobody is going to hire someone with his kind of attitude. He thinks just ‘cause he can play and wave his arms around in the air that he’s going to become a famous musician and conductor, but he needs to work on being a decent fucking person first.”
His rant wasn’t the most coherent, but it felt good to get off his chest, and he leaned back against the wall and took a hit to emphasize his point. The boys were quiet, and when Matteo raised an eyebrow at Jonas, he tilted his head to the front of the group where David was standing, scowling at him.
“We need to fucking talk.” David growled out through his teeth, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides, looking like he was going to vibrate out of his skin with the amount of tension in his body.
Matteo said nothing but handed the joint off, and followed after David when he turned and walked out of the room. He was done. At that point he didn’t give a fuck if he got kicked from the program, or if he was fucking kicked out of the school, because he and David needed to settle whatever their issue was then and there.
David led him down the hall and he knocked loudly on a door before shoving it open, and grabbed Matteo’s wrist to pull him inside. Matteo noticed it was a bathroom, and quickly glanced around to see if anybody was watching them. He wondered what they thought was happening. Someone in the band would probably recognize the stiff way David was holding his body, and see Matteo trailing almost lazily behind him, and know that something was about to go down. But someone else might just see two boys going into a bathroom together at a party, and come to a completely different conclusion. Matteo almost laughed at the thought. Yeah, he was gay, but he didn’t know if David was. He didn’t know if David even had the time or patience to date or hook up with anyone.
He could tell that his apparent apathy towards the situation was just pissing David off further, so he closed the door slowly, not even locking it before leaning back against it with a bored sigh. He definitely wasn’t actually as calm as he looked; he crossed his arms across his chest so the shaking in his hands would be less obvious, and it was taking a lot of effort to keep his face neutral when he saw how angry David was. He didn’t think David was going to hurt him or anything, but he was terrified about what the fight could lead to when it came to his position in the band.
“I don’t know what your fucking problem is, Matteo, but I don’t have any kind of attitude. I care about what I do and I want it to be done right. It’s not my fault that you don’t care enough to actually try, but it is really fucking with my experience here,” David said quietly, his voice a little too calm for his red face and clenched fists, “I can’t conduct a band when I need to stop every five seconds because you lose your place.”
Matteo snorted, and leaned his head back against the door. It was taking him a minute to figure out what he wanted to say and he was surprised that David was quiet, like he was giving Matteo the time to think.
“David,” Matteo said, after figuring out what was probably the dumbest part of the whole issue, “you’re good enough to be hired anywhere. Me being a shitty band member won’t stop you,” he paused for a moment, and then picked his head up and said, “And I do try. I’m good. The only reason I’m still here is because they know I’m good. I just don’t need to prove it like you do.”
He was glad that his mind was clear enough to get his exact point across, and he watched David as his words sunk in, realizing that David had probably drank too, considering the way he was leaning back on the counter, his legs a little unsteady. David stared at Matteo for a minute before standing up straighter.
“I don’t need to prove anything,” he said, “I know I’m good.”
“Then why are you such a dick?” Matteo asked, “Like, specifically to me? Yeah, you yell at everyone but you’re just mean to me. Are you homophobic or something?”
Matteo couldn’t stop the thought from drifting through his mind and out his drunk mouth. Maybe David was, and there was going to be no way to solve the issue. What the fuck would he tell Rick?
“What? No, I’m not homophobic,” David said, looking like he wanted to laugh at the idea but was too confused to, “I’m trans.”
“Trans people can be homophobic.” Matteo said, shrugging, knowing that it was a stupid point to make. He was honestly just happy for a break in the tension.
David actually laughed, before tilting his head and smirking at Matteo and saying, “Trust me, I’m not. That would be kinda weird considering I’m also not straight.”
The way he said it made something hot bloom in Matteo’s stomach, and he hated his stupid, gay brain for reacting. That statement combined with the look on David’s face, and the fact that despite their stupid rivalry David was still really fucking hot, was making Matteo lose sight of the original conversation a little.
“You’re hot.” He said, verbalizing his thoughts before he could stop himself, and then he clamped his mouth shut and bit his lip, half terrified that David was going to get angrier, and half glad that he was just getting everything off his chest thanks to the alcohol in his system.
David fell back against the counter, the smirk dropping from his face, and he blinked before stammering out, “Uh. What?”
“I think you heard me,” Matteo said, shrugging, and then he looked off to the side before looking back at David’s confused face and saying again, “you’re hot.”
“Why- what does that have to do with any of this?” David asked, and Matteo couldn’t tell if he was angrier but he sounded different, in a way that made him stand up against the door a little.
He just shrugged again, and then stared at David as he tried to work through whatever was going on in his head. Matteo watched as he stood still for a minute, his fists loosening and tightening at his sides, and he watched as David’s eyes scanned up and down his body with the same focus they would scan the band with, and he watched as David pushed himself off the sink, took a few confident steps forward, and shoved Matteo against the door and pressed their lips together.
Matteo’s eyes widened and then slid closed as he felt David’s hands clutching tight onto his hips, and he grabbed at David’s arms and just as he started moving his lips David pulled away roughly, and was back against the sink in a second.
“That was a bad idea,” David said, holding onto the edge of the sink, avoiding Matteo’s eyes by looking off to the side, “we’re both drunk, we’re fighting, we can’t do that.”
“We don’t have to fight,” Matteo said, knowing that it probably was a bad idea but stepping forward anyway, until he was close enough to see just how tight David was anchoring himself to the sink, “you can tell me to fuck off and I will. Or,” he said, taking another step closer until his foot was kicking against David’s and he could reach out and grab his wrist, “I can stay.”
David only looked back at him when he felt the tug on his arm, and he looked down at Matteo’s hand before looking him in the eyes. Matteo took a risk and slid his hand down, grabbing David’s, and was shocked when David used that grip to pull him in for another kiss, backing him up until his back was smacking into the door again. He got an arm around David’s neck before he was pulling away, again, and Matteo sighed as David rubbed a hand over his face and said, “Fuck, no, this is such a bad idea.”
“Maybe,” Matteo said, rolling his shoulders as he asked, “can you just make up your mind? This is hurting my back.”
David looked at Matteo again, looked him up and down the same way that he had earlier that night, and something seemed to click. He tilted his head again, his eyes filled with a sudden new brightness as he stepped forward, placing his hands on the door on either side of Matteo’s hips, boxing him in.
“Okay, here’s the plan,” he said, and Matteo raised an eyebrow, amused, before he continued, “whatever happens tonight happens, and then we don’t talk about it, and it never happens again. Deal?”
Matteo thought it over for a minute, more trying to get one last little jab at David by making him wait for an answer, and once he saw David’s face go from confident to bordering on annoyed, he grinned and stuck out his hand, and said, “Deal.”
David ignored his hand but grabbed his ass and pulled him in close, his hands dragging up to Matteo’s waist as their mouths met again, and Matteo slid a hand into David’s hair and let himself melt against the door.
***
Matteo woke up the next morning with a dry mouth and a bad headache, both of which he attributed to the hangover he almost definitely had. He couldn’t even remember drinking that much, but the pain behind his eyes was more than just him being tired like usual. He got himself out of bed, just wanting to drink some water and get into a hot shower to wash away the sweat and alcohol from the party.
He got into the bathroom and turned the shower on, tugging his shirt over his head as he yawned and rubbed at his eyes. He blinked at himself in the mirror, taking in the pale face, the fucked up hair, the red eyes, the bruise on his neck, the-
Matteo jolted forward and slapped his hand over the mark on his neck, before moving it so he could gawk at the dark purple and red. Seeing it brought back a rush of memories from the night before, memories that Matteo couldn’t believe he had forgotten, and he stared at himself with wide eyes and let out a quiet, “Fuck.”
***
Matteo debated whether or not he should skip the next band rehearsal. He knew that realisitcally he couldn’t, and that skipping because of a hickey was so dumb that he shouldn’t have even been considering it. He just didn’t want to face his friends and have them ask questions, and even more than that he didn’t want to see David.
He figured that David wasn’t planning on showing up for their usual private session, so he got to band with just enough time to still be considered early, and he found a quiet corner of the theater to set his baritone up in, a row of seats off to the side. He smiled when he saw Jonas come in, but it fell quickly when he saw Jonas notice the hickey on his neck, and the pure joy and confusion that came over his face.
“Dude!” Jonas exclaimed, staring obviously at the mark, “Who gave you that?”
“Someone from the orchestra, I barely remember his name.” Matteo said as casually as he could, having thought of the lie on his way to band. Jonas nodded with a grin and held out his fist, and Matteo rolled his eyes and bumped his against it, grateful that the idea of him and David hooking up was so unbelievable that it wouldn’t even enter Jonas’ mind.
“And what happened with Schreibner?” Jonas was bouncing on his toes, excited for the news and probably expecting a story.
Matteo snorted and rolled his eyes again, before turning back to his half-assembled baritone, and shrugged and said, “We worked it out.”
Fucked it out is more like it, Matteo thought to himself, and he shook his head to rid it of that kind of thinking.
Matteo got settled in his seat, listening to the cacophony around him, and then finally let himself glance around the room to see where David was. He was surprised when he didn’t find him, unable to think of any other time where David showed up late (besides that one time with the sheet music), but the doors suddenly burst open and the conductor walked in, David hot on his heels as always, whispering as they finished up what looked to be an intense conversation.
“Sorry we’re late, we got caught up discussing the sequence of songs for the concert, but I’m glad to see you’re all ready to go.” Rick said as he grabbed his baton, and he waited for David to sit in his usual seat in the clarinet section before counting them into their first song.
Matteo spent the entire rehearsal trying his hardest to not stare at David while doing exactly that, but he was lucky that David never returned his gaze. He seemed to be actively avoiding looking in Matteo’s direction, which made sense considering the deal they had made, but he was still a little let down that David didn’t even look at him. He even found himself disappointed when David didn’t end up conducting that day, and got up and went over to his case once they were dismissed.
He was glaring at his bottle of valve oil, realizing that he was low and was going to need to go get more, when a shadow fell over him. He looked up with a smile, assuming it would be Jonas, but it dropped when he saw David standing there. He had his jacket on, his clarinet case clutched tightly in his hand, and his backpack on his back, and he was staring down at Matteo with something between apathy and irritation on his face.
“Where were you earlier?”
Matteo raised an eyebrow. He tossed the valve oil back in his case before snapping it shut, and stood up and gathered all of his things before turning to face David again and shrugging, letting his eyes drift to the side as he said, “I figured I’d give things a day to chill after...you know.”
“After what?” David asked, with a tilt of his head, and more pointed, forced confusion on his face than Matteo had ever seen. Oh, so that was how it was gonna be.
Matteo smiled back tightly. “You know what, never mind. I’ll be there next time.”
There was a moment where David’s eyes darted down to Matteo’s neck and back up just as quick. His cheeks got a little pink. Matteo smirked.
“Good.” David said simply, and then turned and left. Matteo stared after him, and smirked when he saw David turn again to look at him one more time before almost jogging out of the theater.
Matteo heard a snort from behind him, and he whipped his head around to see Jonas standing there.
“Fuckin’ dick,” he said, tilting his head in the direction of the door, “what was he yelling about this time?”
“Nothing important.” Matteo said, shrugging again, readjusting his grip on his baritone case as they started walking towards the door.
“Is it ever with him?” Jonas joked, elbowing Matteo in the arm, and they both laughed as they left the theater, Jonas waving a goodbye to the people who called out to him. Nobody said anything to Matteo, and he sighed as they made their way down the hall.
“Who knows, man,” Jonas started after a second, pausing and then turning to Matteo with a grin, jabbing him again, “maybe Schreibner is just secretly gay and super jealous of whoever gave you that hickey.”
Matteo snorted, before laughing out loud as they got outside. He shook his head and chuckled when Jonas shot him a confused look.
“I don’t think that’s it.”
*****
The next day that Matteo was meant to meet David, he woke up, and the anxious and dark feeling that settled over him immediately made him want to turn over and go back to sleep. It didn’t have anything to do with David, Matteo knew that, had a diagnosis that proved that, but he couldn’t help the dread that filled him at the thought of sitting in a practice room getting scolded over and over again by the same guy who had given him a hickey the week before.
He lit a joint as he left his place. There were tons of off-campus apartments around his school, and he had managed to get a place with Jonas. It was small, but they had all the rooms they needed, and a balcony attached to Matteo’s room for him to smoke on. It was perfect.
Smoking that day was a bad choice, though. He had gone to band high before, and knew that his fingers would be slower and he wouldn’t be able to focus, but it wouldn’t be any different with the fog filling his head. The only difference was that at least he would be out of it enough to not be bothered by the criticizing.
But by the time he got there, he had almost forgotten that before he had band, he had to see David. He knew it would be obvious he was high, and was preparing himself for whatever David would have to say about it. He was also a little late because he needed to take a minute outside of the building to breath and calm himself down. The weed had done the job of dulling everything coming in, but the anxiety twisting up inside of his gut was still pretty active. He took another shaky breath before pushing into the practice room.
“You’re late.” David said sternly, turning in the seat to glare at Matteo as he shuffled in. Matteo barely acknowledged that he had spoken besides a half shrug until he was settled in his chair, with his baritone set up.
“Bad morning,” he said in a quiet voice, before putting his music on the stand and saying, “let’s just start.”
David went easy on him at first, starting off with one of their simpler songs just to make sure Matteo understood one set of measures that the entire band had been messing up. It didn’t require much complex counting or a lot of movement, so Matteo was playing fine. It was a little further into the session when David switched to a different song, one that Matteo could play most days, but not with his fuzzy brain and fingers that started to shake when David pointed at the measure he wanted Matteo to start with,
He barely got through the first measure before David was cutting him off and telling him to start over, and then stopping him again to count out the beats, and then finally stopping him again when Matteo was playing at a tempo so wrong that he didn’t even know what he was doing.
“Okay, stop, stop,” David said, and he flopped back in his chair with a huff, “what the fuck is going on today?”
“Nothing,” Matteo muttered, leaning back in his chair as well, but crossing his arms over his chest, “I told you, bad morning.”
David turned to stare at him, actually looking at him for the first time he had come in, and Matteo saw understanding dawn on his face before a glare took its place.
“Oh, I get it,” David said, shifting back in his chair, “you’re really trying to get kicked out, aren’t you?”
“No, what the fuck?” Matteo said, shaking his head at the idea.
“So you thought coming in stoned was a good way to keep your spot?”
Matteo froze, before asking quietly, “Are you going to narc?”
David rolled his eyes and snorted, and opened his mouth, before closing it again and leaning back more in his chair. He squinted at Matteo for a second, and then asked, “Why did you do it?”
“What?” Matteo asked, running a hand through his hair, his eyes darting to the side because he hadn’t even thought about what could happen if David told anyone that he had showed up high.
“Get high, before coming here? If you aren’t trying to get kicked out? Did you think it was a good idea?” David seemed almost amused by the conversation.
“None of your fucking business.”
“I kind of think it is, though, if you’re going to be showing up here, at a time that I only agreed to meet at because you need help-”
“Shut the fuck up, you have to be here just as much as I do, in case you forgot,” Matteo snapped, feeling himself losing a bit of the control that he was usually very careful to hold onto, “and if you really need to know, my brain is pretty fucked up and coming here and getting yelled at by you doesn’t help. Shockingly, it makes it worse. So if you’re going to run off and tell the department that I’m high, make sure they know it’s because you’re so unbearable to work with that it’s the only way I can get through it.”
David stared at him, and swallowed, his face unreadable. Matteo took a deep breath and looked down at the ground, his pulse pounding in his ears. He pressed his fingers down on the valves of his baritone as he tried to get his breathing back under control after losing his temper, and with the new panic that was filling him. He was done for. There was no way David would let him get away with all of that, and Matteo knew that the department would not be happy to hear that he showed up to a rehearsal high before screaming at everyone’s favorite.
“Okay,” David said quietly, “I’m sorry.”
Matteo’s head whipped to him. “What?”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m pissed that you’re high right now,” David said, but his voice was still soft, and he was looking at Matteo with the closest thing to sympathy on his face that Matteo had seen from him, “but brains can suck. And I get that I can be...blunt.”
Matteo snorted. “Blunt, sure.”
“So here’s what we’re gonna do,” David said, and he took his phone out of his pocket and started typing, “have you ever listened to the songs that we’re playing?”
“Well, he played new pieces for us in the beginning of the semester. And I hear them when we play.” Matteo said with a shrug. He had never really been the type to listen to band music. He loved it, and loved playing it, but it already took up so much of his time. When he was listening to music on his own he usually chose stuff that he couldn’t tell you the time signature of.
“Yeah, but sitting in a section of a band and listening to the people around you is really different from hearing it like the audience does,” David said, barely looking up, “we still have some time before rehearsal, so let’s just listen to the songs until it’s time to go. I’ll point out some parts that you’re struggling with so you can hear how you fit into everything else.”
“Oh. Okay. That sounds good.” Matteo said, staring at David in shock as he kept tapping on his phone. After a few seconds, Matteo could hear the run that starts the first song in their program. David raised the volume and set his phone on the stand, and then leaned back in his chair, the corners of his lips turning up as the clarinet came in, playing the solo that David played every class.
“That person played it better,” Matteo said under his breath, a little uncomfortable with how suddenly accommodating David was being. He was sure light teasing was still safe. He smirked at the eyebrow David raised.
They listened to the next couple of songs, David pausing every now and then to point things out or tell Matteo to listen to the part coming up next. Matteo could see his hands twitching on his lap, tapping along to the beat, and sometimes, seemingly without even noticing, his hand would come up and with just a finger he would conduct to the room. Matteo watched until it seemed like David wasn’t paying attention to him anymore, and he leaned back in his own chair, and closed his eyes.
He was still listening, and he continued tapping his foot to the beat of every song that played. As the last note of the last piece played out in the room, Matteo let out the breath he had taken in and held during the final crescendo. He didn’t realize until then that he hadn’t even put away his baritone, the horn just resting in his lap, his hands moving across the brass and pressing down on the valves of their own accord.
“We should probably head out,” Matteo heard, and he opened his eyes slowly, not expecting to meet David’s as quickly as he did. David was staring at him with another unreadable expression, biting his lips as his eyes darted around Matteo’s face, down to his lips, before he bit his own and jumped up from his chair with a, “yeah, we need to be there in ten. Let’s pack up.”
*****
[insert blah blah whatever but then the conductor is like haha later this week im gonna be gone and david is gonna conduct all of you the whole time and matteo is like “lol k” but it actually ends up being fine?? And matteo plays better and david doesnt have to say anything to him and near the end he actually SMILES at him and matteo is like okay oaky….this is kinda nice i like not fighting with this dude also hes STILL SO FUCKING CUTE]
[flash forward to a couple weeks later they're still kinda getting along like they are still constantly teasing and bantering and arguing but its like,, nice and funny and ,maybe flirty??????]
“Why can’t we talk about it?” Matteo asked, finally, snapping his case shut and turning to stare at David’s suddenly stiff back. He heard David’s case zip up after a second, before he turned around, a tight smile on his face.
“Talk about what?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that made it obvious he wasn’t pleased.
“Stop acting like it’s fucking crazy that two people who don’t like each other got drunk at a party and hooked up,” Matteo said, rolling his eyes at David’s carefully controlled expression, “just because you’re so busy and important doesn’t mean you have to be boring.”
“I’m not boring,” David hissed, but he flopped back down in his seat and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling before saying, “I don’t want other people in the band finding out. I have a reputation with them, and I know that...I know this would make things weird.”
“If anything they’ll be jealous of me,” Matteo said with a laugh, “as if you don’t know how many of them eye fuck you while you’re conducting.”
“I’m not...oblivious,” David huffed, and Matteo smirked when he saw his cheeks get red as he looked down at the ground, “and that’s not it.”
Matteo tilted his head, trying to figure out what David meant as he looked up from the ground but off to the side, chewing on his lip. Somewhere in the back of his head a thought started brewing, and once he thought it it was impossible not to clear his throat, and take a breath before asking, “Is it because you think I’m bad? Like, a bad player? Do you not want them knowing you hooked up with me?”
“What? Matteo, no,” David looked at him sincerely for the first time since Matteo had started the conversation, and he reached a hand out, and Matteo jumped when it wrapped gently around his wrist, “I don’t think you’re a bad player, and that...that isn’t the problem. You aren’t the problem with this.”
“Then what is?” Matteo asked, exasperated even though he was the one to ask.
“It’s them,” David said, gesturing vaguely out but Matteo could guess he meant their bandmates, “I love them, but do you know how hard it would be to lead a group of people, including lots of people who have hit on me, if they knew I hooked up with the one member of the band that I-”
“That you what?” Matteo asked too quick, excited to hear the answer.
“That they have seen me get angry in the past- perhaps angrier than necessary.” David said calculating and slow, like admitting it hurt him somewhere deep. Matteo kind of hoped it did. After smiling to himself at that he refocused on the point of the conversation.
“Do you really think I’m planning on telling any of them?” he asked, shaking his head in disbelief, “The only other people I talk to besides you are Carlos, Abdi, and Jonas, and I’m not telling them about any of it because I don’t want them giving me shit for any of it.”
“Why do you even want to talk about this?” David asked, looking up and fixing Matteo with a hard stare, “It happened a while ago, and it’s not like we had some romantic fucking moment of reconiliation. We got drunk, we argued, we hooked up, and now we can move on.”
“Well,” Matteo said, licking his lips and shrugging before looking up at David again, knowing that he didn’t really have a reason besides, “I had fun.”
David opened his mouth, and then closed it again, and then opened it again and just went, “Okay?”
“Didn’t you?” Matteo asked, trying for confidence, but coming off as a little desperate with the way he twisted in his seat to make sure he would catch David’s answer.
“I mean…” David started, his cheeks getting darker as his eyes darted around the room, then down to Matteo’s lips and up to his eyes again as he said, “yeah. I did.”
“Yeah, so,” Matteo said, shrugging again, “what’s the big deal if we acknowledge it? It happened, and now we-” he cut himself off, before taking a deep breath and continuing, “and now we see what happens next.”
David’s eyes popped open. Matteo shrugged again before standing and picking his case up, and his bag, and taking a couple of steps to the door. He turned when he heard silence behind him, and saw David frozen in his seat, still staring at him. He stared back for a moment before gesturing out the door and asking, “Are you coming?”
David blinked and nodded, before getting up and gathering his things as well, and he followed Matteo out the door, and they made the short trek to rehearsal.
Matteo felt different sitting down next to his bandmates that day. He was still full of adrenaline, but felt ready to play, quietly humming one of their songs to himself as his fingers pressed down on the associated valves. He couldn’t stop his gaze from flicking to David every few minutes, and he caught David looking back just as Rick walked onto the stage. David coughed and looked away, and Matteo smiled to himself before leaning back in his seat.
He could feel David’s eyes on him throughout the rehearsal, and he was surprised, but it encouraged him to keep sneaking peeks as well. His eyes would wander up from the page even when he was playing just to catch a glimpse of David in his seat, sitting up straight, his strong arms and shoulders holding the clarinet up, his lips wrapped around the mouthpiece-
Matteo was glad he had a lot of rests.
“David! You were supposed to come in there!” Rick yelled suddenly, smacking the score in front of him with his baton, “You’ve never missed that cue before, what’s got you so distracted today?”
The band was silent and they watched David blush as he said, “Sorry, Rick, I’ll focus better. Won’t happen again.”
The conductor just shook his head before telling them to start the piece over, which was followed by angry grumbles and the sound of papers flipping. David looked down at the ground, his cheeks an angry red, and Matteo bit back the smile that threatened to grow on his face.
[david cancels their next private lesson and matteo is like what why and then he gets to band that day and david is conducting again and he basically ignore matteo the entire time and matteo is a lil mad and then after matteo goes up to him and is like “hey wtf why did you cancel on me and then not even correct me when i messed up” and david is like “fuck cause youre super fucknig distracting now and i cant spend an hour alone with you and then get up in front of a group of people and conduct like an idiot cause im too busy thinking about YOU” but hes likes embarassed and actually mad about it and matteo is like oh my god are we going back to the anger i thought we were passed that and davids like well i guess not and matteos like lmao do we need to hook up again cause that seemed like it worked pretty well last time and david is like,, so fucking pissed but is more pissed that hes kind of into that idea so he locks the practice room door and basically they hook up in the practice room because wow what a fantasy that is]
[things are like….weird but chill for a while after that. It seemed like being able to hook up with matteo again made david less distracted by him in a destructive way and even put a bit of a pep in his step?? And matteo notices that hes being a bit nicer to everyone, not just him, and hes actually smiling and complimenting matteo during their private sessions, and even though nothing is explicitly referenced they both know something's going on. Neither of them would call the other a friend though]
[this is after they hook up the third time, which is the first time that isnt completely out of anger but they arent really friends They just happened to run into each other after a concert and were both being a bit flirty and matteo was very boldly like “hey uh come back to my place” because he thinks and david actually does]
“Tell me something about you,” Matteo said, turning his head and propping it up on his arms so he could see David. The light was low in the room, and the plant near his lamp was casting strange shadows on the walls, and on David himself, leaned back against the wall like he was.
“Uh,” David started, his eyes dancing around the room as he tried to think of something, “I started playing the clarinet when I was-”
Matteo reached out and pinched his leg. David twitched, and raised an eyebrow at him. Matteo hoped that David was okay with the fact that he just kept touching him. It was hard to keep his hands away, and he didn’t know David’s comfort level with non-sexual physical contact. So far he seemed more amused than anything else.
“Tell me something not related to music.” Matteo said, and David snorted at the request.
“Why?” He asked, reaching down to push Matteo’s hair out of his eyes. He bit his lip, wishing that David kept his hand on him longer.
“I just think, you know,” Matteo said, hoping he wasn’t pushing it by sliding his hand onto David’s thigh, the same one he had pinched, “might not be the time to to get into that topic. Just in case.”
I don’t want to start arguing when we just had really great sex and we’re like five minutes away from cuddling if I play my cards right, is what Matteo was thinking, but he figured he got the point across.
David hummed, and nodded, the amused smile still on his face, and tilted his head against the wall and said, “Okay, let me think.”
Matteo stared at him, from where the blanket was draped over his lap, up his bare chest, up the angle of his neck, and still found himself blown away at how beautiful he was. He sighed, glad that David wasn’t watching him swoon.
“Okay I got something,” David said suddenly, turning to Matteo, his eyes bright, “so, growing up we had a cat. My sister got to name it because she was older, and she named the cat Martha Jones, after a Doctor Who character. That cat fucking hated me.”
Matteo laughed, but David didn’t look like he was done, so he prompted him with, “And?”
“Years later, I moved in with my sister, and she wants us to get another cat. So, we go to a shelter, and there’s a cage in the back with a sign on it that says ‘Martha Jones’. Completely different cat, but of course my sister says we have to see her.”
Matteo nodded, enthralled.
“So she goes to ask a worker, and this dude says that that cat was a biter, would hiss, and scratched anyone that went near her unless they had food. Laura insisted, because she’s stubborn, so they brought us into a room and the dude basically tossed the cat in with us and closed the door.”
“That doesn’t sound safe.” Matteo said, shifting closer until he was able to rest his head in David’s lap. He couldn't hold back the need any longer, and he was pleased when David started playing with his hair.
“It wasn’t, she immediately scratched me so bad I started bleeding,” David said with a chuckle, “but she chilled out after a bit, my sister was very persistent. After like 20 minutes she was purring in my lap.” David finished with a proud smile down at Matteo.
If Matteo hadn’t already been crushing that would’ve sealed the deal. It did make something soft settle in his chest, and made his hands a little tingly, and he didn’t think twice before asking, “Can I see a picture?”
David looked thrilled at the question, and he leaned over to grab his phone. Matteo watched, biting back a grin as David scrolled through his pictures before settling on one and handing his phone over, obviously excited for Matteo to see.
The first thing Matteo could make out was a metal music stand, the same basic kind he had in his room for practicing, but it was tilted so the tray was lying flat. He grinned at the cat bed that was resting on top of it, and actually awwwed out loud at the pretty calico, splayed out on her back in a sunbeam. The stand was in front of a large window, and Matteo could see plants around it, and he wondered if it was David’s room.
“Yeah,” David said, looking at the picture again himself before putting his phone down. Matteo felt a tug on his hair, and he looked up to see David staring down at him, and he said, “now you.”
“Me? I don’t have any cats to show off,” Matteo said, wrapping his arms around David’s legs so he could squeeze himself closer.
“No, now you have to tell me something about yourself,” David said, rolling his eyes, but his face was softer than Matteo had ever seen it.
“Oh, shit,” Matteo said, not thinking that David was going to turn the conversation on him, and he hummed for a second before saying the first thing he could think of, “well, I like to sing. When I was younger I used to have a vocal coach and everything, now I mostly just sing whenever my roommate isn’t home.”
It wasn’t something he brought up, or really thought about too often, because ultimately the decision for him to stop the training was out of his hands, and he regretted not being able to go farther with it the same way he could with the baritone.
“Why’d you stop?” David asked, his voice soft, as if he could sense the sadness underlying the statement.
“Well,” Matteo said, shifting back a little bit so he could roll onto his back and say it up to the ceiling, “my mom was the one who got me the lessons, I had already been taking them for the baritone for a year or so. My dad got pissed, because I was already singing in the church choir at that point, and he didn’t want singing to distract from my other music shit. When I got older, uh,” he paused to take a breath, “there was a while where my mom wasn’t living with us, so all the singing lessons stopped. I stopped singing at church, too, and, well. I was better at the baritone anyway.”
He hadn’t noticed that while he had been talking, David had slid down more on the bed until he was resting on his side, and he was staring with a concerned look when Matteo turned to him again,
“They have vocal coaches through the school,” David said, an arm inching across the mattress towards Matteo, “you can sign up for one, if you want. I can get you the email of the person who sets them up, I-”
Matteo laughed at David’s eagerness to help, cutting him off, and rolled back over onto his side, surprised at how close he found himself to David. He felt a hand gently sliding onto his hip, and he bit his lip, his eyes meeting David’s, and he leaned in to kiss him.
David didn’t seem to have expected it. He made a sound, and Matteo worried for a moment that he was going to pull away but instead he was pulled in closer, David’s hand sliding onto the small of his back. He pulled away, and David rolled onto his back, his cheeks pink.
“Thanks, but I don’t need any of that,” Matteo said, and he hesitantly let his head drop onto David’s shoulder, and then let his arm drape across his stomach when David tangled their legs together, “it’s just something I do for fun now.”
“For fun,” David repeated, and then took a breath and asked, “since the topic of music is back on the table, do you want to hear a secret?”
Matteo looked up, amused, and then propped his chin on David’s chest so he could see him better, and he said, “Yes, please.”
“So, I can play almost every wind instrument, right? And brass too, and I can figure out percussion pretty quickly. I can pretty much play anything you’ll find in the average wind ensemble, and then some.”
Matteo rolled his eyes, “That’s not a secret.”
“Yeah, but,” David took another breath, and it seemed like it actually pained him to say, “I can’t play anything with fucking strings.”
“Really?” Matteo asked, leaning up a bit more so he could see the hurt on David’s face, and he grinned, and questioned, “not even guitar? Or ukulele? Even I can play those a bit.”
“Nope,” David sulked, “nothing. One time my friend gave me her violin to try and she said I should be banned from ever touching anything with strings again.”
Matteo covered his mouth with his hands to stop the giggles that were threatening to pour out of him. It wasn’t like there was any actual expectation that David was able to play every single instrument that existed, but the shame he seemed to be feeling about his own inability was hilarious.
“Now you have to tell me something else too,” David said, poking Matteo in the cheek, obviously trying to change the subject,
“You offered that information up freely, I don’t have to tell you shit.” Matteo snarked back. He was still reeling from how strange this new dynamic was, and he wanted to push a bit, see what was allowed.
David scrunched his face up before suddenly grabbing Matteo’s wrist and flipping him onto his back, David hovering over him, looking much too pleased with himself. Once he could tell Matteo wasn’t going to try to move he slid his hand off his wrist and down his chest, onto his hip, and blinked his dark eyes slow and said, “Tell me something.”
“I can speak Italian,” Matteo blurted out immediately, unable to resist a hot, mostly naked boy pinning him to his bed.
“Oh yeah?” David asked with a grin, “Fluently?”
“Yeah,” Matteo said, his eyes wide as he stared up at David, “my dad’s from Italy, we spoke it when I was growing up.”
David hummed, still looking down at Matteo with the same cocky smile on his face, and said, “Say something.”
“No,” Matteo refused, and with a sudden burst of confidence he slid his hand onto the back of David’s head and said, “kiss me.”
David’s eyes widened but he smiled, and did as told. The conversation ended there.
*****
A few days later, a weekend, Matteo walked out onto his balcony. It was midday, and he had already eaten and gotten the work done for his academic classes, so he had an unlit joint dangling between his lips. He stretched, and squinted when the sun shone down on him bright enough to hurt his eyes. He dashed back into his room, intent on finding the sunglasses he knew were somewhere, and he saw something balanced against the wall in the corner that made him pause.
It was a ukulele, his ukulele, one that a random family member had gotten him when he was first accepted to the school. It was a bright blue, and Matteo knew that with most instruments a bright color didn’t ensure the best quality, but he didn’t mind because he barely played the thing. It was good enough for the random time every few months where Matteo would decide to teach himself a new song.
He thought back on his conversation with David. He felt the corners of his lips twitch up, remembering David’s pained face when he revealed his secret, and with a small laugh he grabbed the neck of the ukulele and tucked it under his arm. He found his sunglasses on the floor next to his desk, and slid them onto his face before walking back out the door.
He leaned against the railing of the balcony as he lit the joint, smiling around it, and puffing the smoke out his nose. His room faced out to an empty street, across from a bunch of buildings that he was sure nobody had gone inside for years. He liked how private it felt, for the years he had lived there he had only seen a handful of people out there.
Which made it the perfect place for him to pluck out a few random chords on the ukulele without the judgement he usually faced when playing music. He wasn’t good by any means, but he knew enough chords to play enough songs to keep himself occupied. There were even a few times when he and Jonas had played together out there, usually after a few beers or joints when Matteo was feeling less self conscious about giggling as he badly played along with Jonas actually playing his guitar.
He puffed on the joint, his eyes closing under the sunglasses as he started strumming. His fingers had settled naturally on the frets, playing the chords to the last song he had taught himself, one Jonas had played in his car that got stuck in Matteo’s head. He hummed along, but stopped when the joint almost fell out of his mouth. He took a step back, rolled his shoulders, and started playing again.
The joint did fall out of his mouth, tumbling to the ground at Matteo’s feet, thankfully not setting anything on fire, when he heard from the street below him, “Matteo?”
Oh god, he recognized the voice immediately. He bent down to grab the joint and stubbed it out on the ashtray conveniently right next to him, and took a deep breath before peeking over the railing. And he was right about the voice, as David was standing there, a hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun, squinting up at the balcony.
“Uh, yeah,” Matteo called back, lifting a hand to wave awkwardly before realizing that he was still clutching the ukulele, so he set it down, his fingers tight around the neck, “that’s me.”
“Nice shades.” David said, smirking up as he moved his hand from his eyes. The sun was going behind some clouds so the glare was gone, and Matteo lifted the sunglasses from his eyes with a blush.
“What are you doing over here?” Matteo asked, leaning over the edge so he could get a closer look. David had a bike next to him, and a backpack tight on his back, obviously either coming or going from somewhere.
“Oh, well, actually,” David said, digging the toe of his shoe into the ground like he was embarrassed by the question, “I was just taking a shortcut.”
Matteo snorted, and looked down at his arms folded across the railing. He didn’t really know what to say. He wasn’t expecting to see David obviously, and it didn’t seem like David’s answer matched his reaction to the question. He wanted to know what that was about. After an almost awkward silence, just as David’s hand tightened around the handle of his bike, Matteo quickly asked, “Do you want to come up?”
Something about David made Matteo do that a lot, blurt out things that drifted through his head that he wouldn’t usually say without a second more to think about it. He blushed after he asked, looking down at his arms again, not wanting to watch David uncomfortably decline. Sometimes it was hard to remember that they weren’t really supposed to like each other.
“Okay.” David said, confidently, and Matteo’s eyes snapped back down. David was looking up at him with his head tilted, a smile on his face like Matteo’s question was a challenge.
“Oh,” Matteo responded, needing to take a minute to realize that David was actually agreeing, “um, go around the front and I’ll buzz you in?”
David nodded, and hopped on his bike and disappeared around the corner of the building. Matteo let out a breath and rushed into his room, looking around with wide eyes to see what he needed to quickly kick under his bed and shove in his closet. He managed to tidy his room up enough to not be embarrassed by the time the buzzer went off, and Matteo ran to it, not even knowing if Jonas was home but desperately hoping he wasn’t.
He pulled the door open, biting his lip when David came into view, smiling slightly in that cocky way he did. He felt like he would swallow his tongue if he spoke out loud so he waved David into the flat, blushing at the chuckle David let out as he did so, and David bowed his head as he walked in, stepping past Matteo and stopping in the entrance to the main part of the flat.
“We should go chill on your balcony,” David said, looking around like he had never been there before. To be fair, the only time David had been there they were stumbling through the dark to Matteo’s room trying to keep their lips connected, so he didn’t blame him for taking the time to look around in the daylight.
Matteo nodded, and then realizing he hadn’t actually said anything since David came up, cleared his throat and said, “Yeah, sure.”
He led an amused David through his room, pointedly avoiding looking at his bed, his face flushing although he kept his eyes trained forward. David didn’t say anything, or even show in any way that he remembered the fact that just days ago they had been wrapped up in each other in that very same bed, kissing and touching and a lot else. Matteo didn’t know how he was so nonchalant about it when the sight of the bed instantly brought the taste of David’s lips to Matteo’s head, the feeling of his hands on him, Matteo’s hands in his hair. He shook his head and pulled the door to the balcony open harder than he meant to.
He was glad that they had chairs set out on the balcony, ones they had found outside some other building when they first moved in. They didn’t match but they were surprisingly comfortable and most importantly, not broken. Matteo only sat after David had picked a chair, and looked up at him, an amused smile still on his face.
“I should tell you that I lied, earlier.” David said suddenly, after Matteo sat. He looked up, confused, at David’s smile.
“Lied about what?”
“I wasn’t really taking a shortcut.”
Matteo raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”
David nodded, and bent down, digging around in the backpack at his feet. Matteo settled back in his seat to watch until David sprang back up with a book in his hand.
“Don’t tell anyone,” David started, flipping to a page near the end, “but I might sometimes sneak into buildings in a way that isn’t totally...legal.”
Matteo smiled at that, tilting his head, and asked, “For any particular reason, or do you just like the thrill?”
David smiled back, not cocky, and said, “It is pretty thrilling, especially when you get chased out by security guards. But I really do it for this.”
His cheeks got a little rosy when he handed the book over to Matteo, and Matteo’s jaw dropped when he looked down at the page. He was expecting words, but instead there was a sketch done in black pencil, and it took Matteo a minute to piece together what it was.
[idk dude figure out what he drew i guess lmao i dont care enough to try to write this part rn]
“These are… really good,” Matteo said, flipping through the pages. He didn’t really know if David wanted him to but he didn’t try to stop him, so Matteo let his eyes wander over the pages.
“Yeah, well,” David said, sounding a little sheepish, “it’s a hobby, I guess.”
Matteo was quiet as he turned page after page, finding sketches of more abandoned buildings, random people, different plants. A cat popped up a few times, which made Matteo smile, along with the doodles of instruments and staff lines half filled with notes. He didn’t realize how long he had been absorbed in the book until he noticed he was on the second to last page. He stared at the drawing that seemed somewhat familiar, a barely-started portrait, a head with short swooping hair, a button nose, a small smile-
“Okay, um,” David said quickly, his hand darting out to grab at the book, “yeah, a lot of those last ones aren’t finished. Not really that interesting.”
“I thought they were,” Matteo muttered, a little annoyed at being interrupted. He had been enjoying himself.
“I, uh,” David started as he shoved the book back into his bag, “don’t usually show that to people.”
Matteo tilted his head. He had never seen David look less sure of himself. He leaned back in the chair, biting his lip, his eyes avoiding Matteo’s. He seemed almost… shy? Timid? Words that Matteo would never associate with David.
“Well, you should,” Matteo said after a moment of silence, “it sucks that you’re amazing at that too.”
That got a bit of a chuckle, and Matteo grinned at David until their eyes met. There was a beat, and then David looked away again.
“I don’t know,” David said, his cheeks getting pink again, “that’s something I really only do when I need to escape. I just… go somewhere, and draw whatever I can find. I don’t really show people because I’m not doing it for anyone else. Like… you know.”
Matteo had a million questions about what he meant by that, but David had crossed his arms over his chest and looked off to the side after saying it, his jaw set. He let out a long exhale through his nose, and Matteo got the hint that he didn’t want to further dissect that statement.
Matteo leaned back in his chair, quiet, trying to figure out how to turn the conversation back around. He could tell David maybe hadn’t meant to say as much as he did, maybe was a little embarrassed at revealing something so personal. Showing off a picture of his cat a week or so prior was nothing compared to talking about something that he was actively keeping to himself. His escape, from what Matteo knew was a very stressful and hectic life.
He thought for a moment, his eyes darting around the balcony to find something to change the topic, to stop David from looking so uncomfortable. His eyes landed on his ukulele. He paused there, the thought alone making his heart race and something nervous twist up in his stomach, but before he could stop himself he reached out and grabbed it, letting it settle in his arms the way it always did. David didn’t look over until Matteo accidentally twanged one of the strings.
“Um,” he said, when David’s eyes widened and a grin started growing over his face, “I’ll trade you.”
The grin stopped, David tilted his head in confusion and asked, “You’ll trade me what?”
“You told me about what you do that’s just for you, that you don’t usually share with other people,” Matteo strummed, quickly adjusting a couple of the tuning pegs until the sound was just right, “only fair that I do the same.”
“I didn’t think that playing the ukulele was that important to you.” David said, uncrossing his arms, relaxing back into his chair a bit. The tension was gone from his face, and his lips were curved up at the sides.
“It’s not,” Matteo said with a smirk that looked more confident than he felt, and he took a deep breath before putting his fingers on the frets.
He started strumming the song he had been playing when David showed up, looking down at his hands because he knew he would need to focus on the chords and not on David looking at him. He took another deep breath, tried not to think about it, and started singing.
“There once was a bittersweet man and they called him Lemon Boy….”
Matteo hadn’t considered the lyrics before singing them, just picking a song that was fresh in his head so he wouldn’t embarrass himself by messing up, not that David would have been shocked by that. It was a simple song, pretty, one that he didn’t have to think too hard about. But as he sang it, as the lyrics came out of his mouth less timid with every word, he felt butterflies in his stomach. He got to the chorus, and closed his eyes.
“Lemon Boy and me started to get along, together,” he sang, ignoring the heat he could feel spreading across his cheeks, “I helped him plant his seeds and we'd mow the lawn in bad weather.”
Matteo stumbled on a chord, managed to fix it in a second but he knew David heard it. He continued, though. David had reminded him of that often, not to stop when he made a mistake.
“It’s actually pretty easy being nice to a bitter boy like him...”
He sang the next verse, getting a little sloppy with the chords as he failed to not think about the words he was singing. He got through it, got halfway through the next chorus, and was suddenly cut off when loud classical music started playing from David’s bag. His hands stilled, and he opened his eyes.
It was as if David hadn’t even noticed he stopped, or the sound coming from somewhere near his feet. His eyes were wide, shiny and dark, staring into Matteo’s, leaning forward in his chair like he didn’t want to miss a single word, a single strum of Matteo’s fingers over the strings. His head was tilted, lips parted just enough that a long shaky breath could escape, his hands gripping tight to the arms of the chair. He looked awed by Matteo’s mediocre performance.
David’s gaze snapped down to his bag when the classical music started again, and he whispered an, “Oh, shit,” as he dug through it. He pulled his phone out and Matteo expected him to put it to his ear, assuming the music was a ringtone, but instead he could see it was an alarm that David turned off with a slide of his finger across the screen.
“I was supposed to be home a while ago, I need to, uh,” David cut himself off as he stood, shoving his phone into his pocket and zipping his bag closed before swinging it onto his back, “I have to do my shot today.”
“Oh,” Matteo responded, not understanding what David meant. He wasn’t able to say anything else, like singing had taken the rest of his voice for the day.
“You know, testosterone?” David stuttered out, nervous, as if Matteo didn’t already know he was trans.
“Oh,” Matteo said again, almost smacking himself in the face when he blurted out, “have fun?”
That made David pause, his franticness to leave slowing as a smile grew over his face. He bit his lip, and then to Matteo’s shock, let out a laugh.
“I’ll try my best,” he said, winking. That action alone was enough to have Matteo collapsing back into his chair. David turned towards the door, put one foot back into the apartment, and then stopped before saying, “oh, and Matteo?”
“Yes?” Matteo said, leaning forward again, greedy to hear whatever David was about to say.
“One day I’ll show people my art. Have an exhibit at a museum, maybe.” he said, turning his head so he could look back at Matteo with a soft smile on his face, “but only if I can hire you to sing there.”
Matteo’s jaw dropped, his face turning bright red as David walked through the door. He flopped back in his chair, waited until he could hear the clicks of his door opening and then closing, and let out the breath he had been holding for who knows how long.
#oi this was a big one#i spent so much time on it and i hope yall like it even though its not finished#davenzi
56 notes
·
View notes
Text
Spidey Part2 - Sebastian Stan X Holland!Reader
Summary: What will happen between you and your brothers co-star after sparks fly in your first meeting at comic-con?
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four |
MATERLIST // TAGLIST
I wasn't planing on making a part two but as requested by @star-gazing-game here it is! You can read part one here and part three here. If anyone ever has a request or suggestion my messages are always open! Thank you for choosing to read my story and I hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 4,935 (wow for a story I didn't plan on making I sure got lost in it. This is twice as long as the first story!)
~~~~
Once comic con ended you and Sebastian went your separate ways, making sure to exchange numbers first. The both of you still had to do some promoting for your movies and unfortunately, they were in different parts of the country. He would stay in California for a bit while you went back to New York. That didn't stop you from keeping up with each other. He would randomly message you throughout the day and it would always bring a smile to your face.
Sebastian: Another interview with the diva 🙄. I mean does he really need someone to carry all those juice boxes for him?
You were currently sitting in your apartment getting ready to have dinner. You were still appearing on talk shows promoting your movie and your career, now that people were noticing you more it was the perfect opportunity for you to talk more about your usual work and gain more of a following. Tonight you would be on SNL performing a parody skit of Wicked.
Laughing you responded back.
Y/N: Ugh I know right! He thinks he's so much better than anyone like 'oh look at me I'm Spider-Man' 🙄 go get your juice box and let the adults handle this
Less than a minute later your phone rang again.
Sebastian: I can't believe people think he's the better Holland when it's obvious you are.
Y/N: Thank you! Finally, someone who sees how much better I am than him
You set your phone down leaving it unlocked waiting for Sebastian's next reply. Instead, your phone read 'Tommy' as a video call came through. Confused as to why he would be calling you before an interview, you moved your food aside and swiped to answer the call.
Before you got to greet him Tom spoke, "Why are you texting Sebastian?"
Although his question caught you off guard that didn't stop you from thinking of a quick response.
Faking disappointment you shook your head, "Oh Tommy, have you been snooping on people's phones again? Hasn't mum talked to you about that already? Does she need to have another chat with you?"
His face turned a tint of red as everyone behind him laughed. You heard a voice call out, "Someone please tell me you got that on camera." It was Mackie.
Someone called back to him, "We got it!" Again everyone burst into laughter. Obviously embarrassed Tom cleared his throat, "I'll call you back later." Quickly he hung up the phone.
No new messages came from Sebastian after that. You assumed it was because his interview was starting. So for the next few hours, you busied yourself getting ready for your show later. This would be your first time performing for SNL, you were so excited but also nervous. You couldn't keep still all day you had to walk around, clean, jump, even sing. Anything to keep yourself busy.
They asked you to show up two hours early to rehearse one last time before the show began. You and your scene partner went over the opening scene that would lead into the song. Once you got it down you two warmed up your voices finding the perfect harmony. Your skit was second up and just like on opening night for all your other shows you were nervous. Sure you've performed live in front of people more times than you can count but each time was as nerve-wracking as the first time.
You had thirty minutes left before you had to go out when you got a text on your phone. Looking down you saw his name and a smile came onto your face.
Sebastian: Good luck tonight you're gonna be great xx
You felt a bit more at ease knowing you had Sebastian cheering you on from the other side of the country. You put your phone down and headed backstage where everyone else was talking as they waited for their turn to go up.
~~~~
"And now for our next guest, Tom Holland!" Your partner introduced. That was your cue to run out on stage. You stood to the right of her smiling and waving to the crowd. When the cheering died down you looked to her still smiling, "Actually it's Y/N Holland."
"We didn't book you today." She said faking confusion looking down at her cue cards, "Look it says right here Tom Holland. TOM. Not Y/N."
"You must've written the wrong name down because I was definitely asked to come down tonight."
She let out a nervous laugh looking at the audience, "No we called and asked for the Spidey twin. You know the new Spidey, not Toby or Andrew."
"I am the new Spidey. I don't know if you heard but I kinda did this new movie and I voiced Spider-Gwen."
"Ok, but we asked for the dancing twin?"
"I can dance too. Maybe even better than my brother." I wink to the audience who cheered.
"Wait, wait, wait," She said to the audience, "but we asked for the more successful twin. Surely that must be Tom. I mean he is Spider-Man. THE Spider-Man. He's gotten the Empire and BAFTA awards for best newcomer and rising star."
"Um tell that to my three Tony Awards for best newcomer and Best Actress." You held one finger up for best newcomer and two for Best Actress. The audience went wild cheering and clapping for you.
"Oh no." Your scene partner said, cuing the music to What is this Feeling begin.
"There's been some confusion over casting here at SNL" you both sang
"But of course I'll promote for Spidey," you sang then in a speaking voice you quickly said, "Spider-Man: Into the Spider-verse out in theaters now."
Your partner looked at you rolling her eyes, "And of course I'll rise up above it"
"For I know that's how you'd want me to respond, yes. There's been some confusion for you see, my scene-mate is," you both sang.
"Unusually and exceedingly peculiar and altogether quite impossible to describe," you sang.
"Y/N" She deadpanned to the audience.
The both of you continued the song just as rehearsed. By the end, everyone cheered as you two marched off stage pretending not to like each other.
You stood for the rest of this show to watch the other skits they had planned out. It was so much fun, you were getting so used to being in a small room filled with the camera crew as you and the interview sat there talking. Of course, those could be fun too but this was a nice change.
At the end of the show, Tom called to tell you how amazing you did. "Watch out because I'm coming for your Tony's with some Oscars next." He threatened before hanging up. You laughed to yourself at your dorky brother. You couldn't help but notice the noise going on behind Tom throughout your phone call. He sounded like he was at a party or something. Then your phone rang again.
Sebastian: Tom has nothing on your three Tony's the only other award he'll be getting from the Oscars is biggest diva
You smiled reading his text, you were about to respond when another came through.
Sebastian: You did great tonight, I can't wait to hear you sing in person again
You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach. Of course you liked him. He was so sweet, funny, talented, and super attractive. But you two hadn't hung out since comic con or even seen each other since then. You didn't want to think too much about your relationship with him other than being friends but deep down you wanted more.
Y/N: Once I'm back on the stage I'll get you front row tickets
~~~~
Weeks had passed when you finally finished doing interviews and promos for Spider-Verse. Sebastian was finally back in New York but you two hadn't had the chance to meet up just yet. If he wasn't busy you were. Now that you had free time you decided to take advantage and take some time off of doing shows as well. Just a few more weeks then you'd go back.
That was until they called you desperate for a replacement, both the lead actress and her understudy got food poisoning and couldn't go on stage. They needed a new Eurydice and you knew the part. You played it once before and you did amazing. Not wanting to let anyone down you agreed to cover, you were also really excited to revisit Hadestown. You loved playing Eurydice the first time so when the chance came to play her again you took it.
You immediately texted your brother excited sharing the good news. You wanted to text Sebastian but you knew he was in the middle of an interview so instead you waited for him to let you know when it was over.
His interview went on longer than expected. By the time it was over you were already down at the theater for a mic check and to get your costume fitted. When Sebastian texted you back your phone was hidden in your purse which then happened to be buried under a pile of everyone else belongings. After an hour passed he wondered why you didn't respond. Usually, you'll respond within a few minutes or before the hours passed. He didn't want to bug and keep texting so he waited for you to respond. He walked around his apartment trying to keep himself busy until he heard his phone buzz. Quickly he ran to his phone only to see it was a text from Mackie. Disappointed but not wanting to be rude he opened it up. It was a screenshot of some news article followed by the words, "This your girl?"
He opened up the photo and read to himself in a low whisper, "Actress Y/N Holland to star in Hadestown for one night only" he read further then jumped to his feet running into his room.
She's performing tonight? Why didn't she tell me?
It was already 6:30 and the show is scheduled for 8:00. That night was the fastest he ever got ready for anything. He showered, got dressed, combed his hair, and jumped in his car all within twenty minutes but he didn't care. He was going to see you tonight.
~~~~
On his way to the theater, he passed a man and woman selling flowers on the side of the street. Quickly he pulled over running over to them. They had a variety of flowers ready to be made into bouquets, the only problem was he wasn't sure which ones to get. He had never asked before what your favorite flowers were and he was not about to ask your brother so he did the next best thing, he googled it.
~~~~
At the end of the show, you were full of adrenaline. The crowd cheered as they stood for you and the cast. You had worked with some of the ensemble cast before on other shows so they came up to give you hugs before you all bowed and the curtain dropped.
You almost forgot how amazing and fun it was to be on stage. You walked back to your dressing room ready to change back into your clothes and go home. Your bag was thrown in the corner forgotten about but the moment you sat down a thought came into your head.
I haven't texted Sebastian back all day.
You ran to your bag digging through it to find your phone. It seemed to be lost somewhere in there and you were losing patience so you flipped your purse over dropping everything onto the floor. Finally finding your phone you walked over to your chair, opened up your messages, and went to Sebastian's name.
Y/N: Hey I sorta got busy... I'll tell you more about it when you've got time
You sighed slouching down in your chair, closing your eyes, and throwing your head back. You knew he was very understanding and wouldn't be upset with you for leaving him without saying a word but still, you felt bad. A few minutes passed when you heard knocking on your door. You sat back up before calling out, "Come in."
"I have time now if you want to talk." You heard a husky voice say from your door. You turned in shock seeing Sebastian standing there in a casual blue suit with flowers in his hand. You got up from your seat and started walking over to him as he walked closer to you, "Sebastian what're you doing here?"
"Well, when I heard you would be performing tonight I couldn't miss this show. I also got you these so I couldn't let you leave without them."
"Thank you, they're beautiful. How did you know these were my favorite?" You asked jokingly. You honestly thought it was just a coincidence that the flowers he got were your favorites.
He rubbed the back of his neck as a blush rose onto his cheeks, "I may have googled what your favorite flowers are."
You couldn't help but laugh, "I'm sorry I didn't mean for that to come out. It's just- you googled me?"
"Yes, I googled you!" He was laughing now too.
"I can't believe you googled me." You were smiling at him now. He was so much taller without your heels on. You took a step back, crossing your arms feeling a bit insecure.
"Well, I was hoping I could take you out tonight. Finally, get to hang out again now that we're here together."
"Yeah, of course, let me get changed really quickly then we can do."
He nodded walking out of the room allowing you to dress in peace. You ran around grabbing your clothes and throwing everything back into your purse. It wasn't too long until you opened the door with your purse and flowers in hand, "So what did you have in mind?"
"I was thinking maybe we can go back to my apartment. I'm sure you're tired and well were not exactly dressed for the same event." He looked down at your sweatpants and t-shirt.
"Yeah, maybe you're right."
~~~~
You followed behind him in your car to his house. You were slightly nervous since this would be the first time you both properly hang out together, alone, and in his house.
When you both got there he met you at your car opening the door for you and offering his hand, "My lady." You giggled at his antics but still took his hand, "Thank you, kind sir." He walked you up to his apartment while your arm was wrapped around his.
Once you were both in his apartment he looked down at his attire, "I am going to change real quick. While I'm gone feel free to make yourself at home. If you need to use the bathroom it's just through that door right there." He walked off to his room leaving you there alone. You put your bag down on the couch taking your phone out to see a text from Tom.
Tommy: How was your show? I'm sure you did great as always! That's how we Hollands do like to do it anyway
Y/N: The show was amazing! I had so much fun I missed performing but I'm still taking a few weeks off before I jump back into it again
You got another text when Sebastian came out of his room now wearing sweatpants of his own and a band shirt. "I don't have anything w can really eat right now so we can order food if you're hungry?"
"That sounds great. I'm fine with eating anything, honestly."
"Awesome, I know this great Chinese restaurant not too far from here we can order from."
You two spent the rest of the night eating and talking. You started off just sitting on his couch but as the night went on you got more comfortable switching positions. You would lay with your back on the arm of the couch, your legs dangling over the arm of the couch, then you moved so your head was hanging over the edge of the couch until you both somehow ended up laying on the floor talking.
Sebastian's head was right next to yours but your bodies were going opposite of each other. He grabbed some pillows from the couch keeping one for himself and giving you the other.
"What happened to you giving me front row seats once you were back on stage, huh?" Sebastian joked.
You propped your arm up on the pillow and rested your head on your hand facing him, "I wasn't planning on going back so soon. They needed me and I couldn't let them down! Plus you were in the middle of something I couldn't interrupt."
He did the same as you resting his head on his arm turning to you, "Excuses, excuses. You could've left a message or something! I would've dropped whatever I was doing just to see you."
You blushed looking away from him but he put a hand on your cheek turning your head back to him. His hand lingered as his thumb drew circles on your cheek, "Have I told you I love hearing you sing?"
"Maybe once or twice." You answered nervously.
"Well, then I'll just keep telling you." You looked into each other's eyes while his hand was still resting on your cheek. You thought for sure he would lean in for a kiss but he didn't. Instead, he cleared his throat and moved his hand. He looked up at the time before letting out a whoa, "It's already two in the morning! You should really get home and get some rest."
You were a bit confused. It felt like you two were having a moment and now he's rushing you home? Sure he makes a good point it is getting late and you're tired but what the hell?
"I suppose you're right." You laid back down on the floor not wanting to get up but Sebastian was standing next to you holding his hand out for you to take. He lifted you off the floor, "Come on I'll walk you to your car."
The walk to your car was quiet, neither of you really knew what to say. When it was time to go he gave you a hug which lingered. You were grateful it did. You didn't want to let him go he smelled like old spice and his body felt warm pressed up against yours. His head rested on top of yours as he rubbed your back with one hand. "Let me know when you're home, ok?" He pulled away holding onto your shoulders until you nodded.
~~~~
Sebastian laid awake in bed waiting to know you were home safe. He could've kissed you tonight. He wanted to kiss you but the gentleman in him wouldn't allow it. From the moment you two met he knew he wanted to take you out but you being Tom's sister he didn't want to do it behind his back either.
In the morning he set his plan into motion. The first call he made was to Tom.
It didn't take long for him to answer, "Hey mate, what's up?"
Sebastian felt nervous. What if Tom said no? What if this ruined their friendship, but he had to try. "Hey, Tom I was just calling to ask something."
"Shot."
"Well, I was hoping it would be alright if I take Y/N out on a date tonight?" He let out slowly. His palms were sweating and his heart was beating fast.
"What?" Tom didn't know what to say. Of course he thought Sebastian was a really great guy but you were his little sister. Did he really want to let you go out with him?
"I would like to take Y/N out on a date, but with your permission of course. I know how close you two are and I don't want you to feel like we're sneaking around behind your back. If you say no I totally understand and I'll keep everything as just friends."
If he were being honest Tom was impressed with the way Sebastian came to him before asking you out. He thought it was nice of his friend to come clean to him instead of asking you out without letting him know, which was something that happened before. "You know what man? Go for it."
"Are you serious?" Sebastian was stunned.
"Yeah! I know we joke around a lot about you and Mackie not liking me but you really are a great friend. Plus I saw how well you two got along during Comic-Con. I know you'll do what's right and make her happy."
Sebastian was over the moon happy. As soon as he hung up the phone his second call was to you.
~~~~
"Tonight at 5:00? That sounds great!"
"Ok, I'll pick you up then." As soon as he hung up the phone you shouted into your pillow with excitement. You knew you had a moment together last night! You just thought maybe it was your crush clouding your judgment but now you two have a date for tonight!
You jumped off your bed and went straight into your closet.
What am I going to wear tonight?
You rummaged through your wardrobe for an hour trying everything on. He said you would be going out to dinner then he would take you out for a movie. Cliche but you didn't care, you were going out with Sebastian Stan! After another two hours retrying everything on and pairing them with shoes. He mentioned the restaurant you would be outdoors so with that information you settled on wearing a maroon corduroy dress with a white long sleeve underneath and some black tights underneath. As for the shoes you went with black boots that had a heel to them.
It felt like time slowed down as if it knew how excited you were for your date. At 3:30 you started getting ready, first taking a shower then quickly putting on your outfit and shoes. Seeing as how you always had to wear so much makeup on stage you hardly liked to wear any off. You only put on a bit of concealer to hide the bags under your eyes, some eye shadow, and lipstick. Once you were satisfied with your look you started on your hair. Not wanting to do too much to it you lightly curled it and pinned it to the sides. As soon as you finished getting ready you heard a buzz coming from your intercom, "Hi Miss. Holland there is a Mr. Sebastian Stan here for ya."
Excited you hurried across the room to buzz back, "Let him up. Thank you, Jerry!" Within minutes you heard a knock on your door. You had set your purse next to the door earlier so you wouldn't have to worry about grabbing it o your way out. When you opened the door you were met with a shy-looking Sebastian once again wearing a casual suit although this time it was a plaid grey. He had one single flower in his hand and a dopey grin on his face.
"Hi, you look beautiful. Well, you always look beautiful but I never mention it so I am now."
You laughed at his stammering, "Thank you, you don't look too bad yourself. I mean you never look bad but I never mention it so I am now." You said coolly mocking him.
He noticed this and laughed looking down, "Thank you. I- umm- I brought you this. Just another one to add to your bouquet." He handed you another flower, the same as the ones from last night. You took it from him happily, "You're so sweet. I'll add it to the bunch right now." You began walking back into your apartment until you realized you were leaving Sebastian standing outside of your apartment door. You turned back around opening the door up for him, "Please come in while I put this away." So he did. He stepped into your apartment but remained by the door. He looked around at the setup and decor. "Wow, you really weren't kidding about those three Tony awards were you?" He asked impressed. You turned back with a chuckle, "I don't have to lie to sound cooler than my brother." "You got that right." He mumbled to himself with a smile.
~~~~
The restaurant he chose was on a rooftop overlooking the city. The view was beautiful and even though there was a rough over your heads it was clear allowing you to see the sky above and the sides were left open so a breeze could pass through. There were strings of light running through the top to illuminate the tables as well as a small jar filled with fairy lights.
Dinner went by smoothly. As you ate you both talked about your lives and the places you've been.
"Greece is amazing! It's my favorite place to go when I need to get away for a while." Sebastian gushed.
"You've been to Greece?! Oh my, I've always wanted to visit but haven't had the chance to go yet."
"You haven't been to Greece?!" He looked at you like you just kicked his puppy. "Well, I will just have to take you someday then." He took a sip of his drink and wiggled his eyebrows at you.
"You said it so you have to take me now!"
"I will." He said with both seriousness and playfulness.
"Promise?" You raised an eyebrow as you held your pinky out.
He rolled his eyes but chuckled taking your pinky with his, "Promise."
~~~~
After dinner, he drove you across the river into Brooklyn. You looked to him confused, "I thought we were just watching a movie?"
He smiled keeping his eyes on the road, "We are."
"Then we do we have to go to Brooklyn?"
"You'll see."
Once you saw it your jaw dropped. The car made sense now. Instead of his Tesla from the other night, he was now driving an SUV. You were confused when you saw it at first but didn't think much into it. Now he was driving you into the Skyline Theater and you understood why he brought his SUV.
"It's a drive-in theater?"
"Yup, check the back seats."
Behind you were blankets, pillows, and snacks that you for some reason didn't see before. He pulled into a parking space with the back of the car facing the big screen, "Wait here." He got out of the car, opened up the back, and started putting the back seats down. Carefully he laid the blankets and pillows for you two. Once he finished he looked up to you, "Now for some popcorn, Ill be right back. Want anything to drink?"
"Just water and a bottle of soda."
"Got it." He flashed you a charming smile before closing the back and walking off. You sat there smiling to yourself like an idiot. You haven't felt this happy in so long, it was a different type of happiness. He came back quicker than you expected with drinks and a big tub of popcorn. Seeing as he still had the keys he opened the back once again to lay out the snacks. "Come on." He nodded his head over motioning for you to join him.
You sat in the back letting your legs dangle over the side of the car, "So what movie are we seeing tonight?"
"Honestly I don't even know" He laughed looking at you.
"You don't know?" You laughed along.
"Uh-uh. It could be a kid's movie, an adult movie, or it could even be one of my movies. I don't know. I just thought it would be romantic to bring you out here for a movie."
"That is sweet but also unbelievable." You laughed but hoped the movie would be something appropriate. Luckily once the movie began it turned out to be Just Go With It.
Sebastian pushed himself back allowing him to lay down, before he did though he took his shoes off and tossed them to the front. You followed along. As the movie went on you two slowly inched closer to each other. First, it started out with him putting his hand on top of yours then he slowly put his arms around your shoulder. You leaned into him resting your head on his chest. Although neither of you could see each other's faces you both smiled at the close contact. You would feed each other snacks and when he tried tossing popcorn into his mouth and failed you both had a contest to see who could do it first, of course, you won.
By the end of the night, Sebastian took you back to your apartment walking you to your door. With your door open you leaned on the frame and looked over to him, "I had a great night Sebastian, thank you." You placed a soft kiss on his cheek before turning to walk into your apartment. He grabbed your hand before you could go. You turned to face him slightly tilting your head you scrunched your eyebrows. He walked closer to you grabbing both sides of your face, "Can I kiss you?" Unable to speak you nodded your head. You felt like your stomach was in your throat.
He leaned down closer to your face, slowly closed his eyes, and placed a soft kiss on your lips. You thought your legs would turn to jelly but luckily they stood strong. You kissed him back wishing it would never have to end.
136 notes
·
View notes
Text
New Angel - Chapter 5
story masterlist [x]
chapter 1 ☆ chapter 2 ☆ chapter 3 ☆ chapter 4
NOTES
☆ written from Niall’s pov ☆ i don’t proofread, I never do, I hate it. ☆ AU comedy/fluff/smut/romance ☆ 2.5k ☆ i accept requests and ideas for this story, so message me in my inbox! ☆ if you want to be notified when this story is updated (or be taken off the update list) CLICK HERE
☆ you probably noticed that my chapters are shorter, which makes it tough because I feel like I can’t write everything I want to write in one chapter. so ill probably update this soon with the next chapter that will just be the continuity of this one.
NIALL
It took a few days before I received a text message from Summer who was inviting me to the movies. It was not really original but I was happy I'd get to spend some of my time with her. Millie had convinced me to go back to work and I had to admit that keeping my head busy was a nice way to get a break from my heartache. I preferred Summer to keep my mind off Grace but I would use every way possible to get over my heartbreak as soon as possible.
"You're not eating diner with us?" Louis asked, making me look up after playing with my keys.
"Nope!"
"Ah, you're gonna get laid." he just pointed out with a nod, making Millie chuckle near him.
I glanced at her and sent her a small smile before looking back at Louis and sending him a smirk. I wanted to joke and ask him if he was jealous but it would be useless since I knew he pretty much had sex whenever he wanted to. Instead, I just shrugged with an amused smile and raised my eyebrows.
"Hopefully."
"D'you need condoms?" he added to tease me.
"Naa, thanks, we're clearly not the same size."
Louis raised his hand up, showing me his middle finger and I started laughing, taking a few steps back, doing the same to him, my middle finger up in the air. I smiled more when my eyes met Millie's and I shook my head slightly.
"Not you Mills, you know I love you!"
She jokingly blew a kiss at me and I pretended to catch it and push it in my pocket, making her laugh. The only good thing beside Summer that came with the fact that Grace broke my heart was that I was getting close to my friends. I was always quite close to Louis, but this whole thing made me realized that we didn't talk much anymore, and we didn't hang out much either. Now that I was single (or something?), I got to spend time with him and I had missed him. Millie was also a good addition to my life. She was still slightly annoying but the more time i spent with her, the more I liked the side of her that made her say things the way they were. Her bluntness was refreshing. I felt like most of the time, everyone around me tried to be sorry for me, or would tell me what I want to hear. She was not rude, she just told me when I was going too far, or shook me when I needed to be, and I realized that true friendship was not pretending the people around you were perfect, it was helping them move on, grow up, and be a better person. Millie was doing just that with me.
"I guess you're also not going to be there tonight, or when we wake up." Louis added as I shrugged again.
"Hopefully." I repeated, making both my friends smile more.
"Have fun!"
---
The movie was boring but I spent the whole time glancing at Summer who seemed to be focus on the screen. I wanted to wrap my arm around her but I was scared of the message it would send so I decided not to. I also didn't dare kissing her for the same reason, and I took a mental note to ask her about the kind of relationship she was looking for on the same night. I just wanted to make things clear and get rid of that restraint inside me that made me think twice about everything I wanted to do or say.
Near the end, I stared at her as she reached very slowly for the popcorn, groping around to find it, and it made me smile. There was no doubt in my mind that I liked Summer and that I wanted to get to know her, I was just scared she was going to be some sort of rebound and I felt extremely guilty about it.
I don't know how the movie ended but when we walked out of the theater, she sent me a big smile and my heart twisted in my chest.
"So, did you guess that they would end up together?" she asked, making my lips part.
"Uh, no."
"Me neither." Summer admitted, raising her nose up slightly. "I'm not good at guessing these kind of things."
I pushed one of my hands in my pockets and chuckled, feeling slight embarrassed. I brought my free hand to scratch the back of my head and I glanced at her. "The truth is, I didn't really watch the movie. I was focused on you."
Her eyes got bigger with surprise and finally, her lips curled slightly to the left. I liked the way she was looking at me and I also liked how oblivious she was. She didn't see the way I looked at her, and she didn't seem to realize how pretty she was. Somehow, it made her prettier. Perhaps it was only because I was used to date confident girls who knew their worth and it was not a better or worst thing, it was just different.
"You really know how to sweet talk women." she pointed out before letting out a short laughter. "But I like it."
"Seriously. I mean it."
"Okay." she nodded, licking her lip before her eyes got smaller. I felt like she was studying me and I liked it. "Then how about you come over to grab a bite? That way you can spend some more time watching me?"
I let out a louder laugh than intended and finally nodded too. "That's a great idea!"
I drove us to her place when when we walked in, I let my eyes roam around. The apartment was small an decorated with pastel colors. It was clearly not the colors I would have picked but it was clean and welcoming, and it fitted well with Summer's bubbly personality.
"Okay, let's see what leftovers we have..." she said in a soft tone, opening the fridge and bending down to look inside.
I suddenly wondered if she did that on purpose but I just shook my head and closed my eyes for a few seconds. From what I knew of Summer, it was not the kind of things she did, but it reminded me that it was exactly the kind of things Grace would do, and I liked it.
"Pasta good for you?"
I opened my eyes when I heard her voice again and blinked a few times before nodding. "Yea, yea it's perfect."
She handed me a beer before putting the food in the microwave and started it. I took a sip of my drink as she turned around and leaned her butt against the counter. She sent me a small smile but I couldn't help and let my eyes move down on her. The necklace she was wearing was falling gracefully between her breasts until her navel but unlike the dress she was wearing at the club, her outfit on that day was pretty simple: a black pair of jeans and a pink shirt that molded her upper body perfectly. I was pretty sure she looked good no matter what she was wearing and it made me smile. She tilted her head slightly, playing with her hair falling down from her high pony tail down to the middle of her back and licked her lips.
"If you want I can tell you what happened in the movie while you stare at me like that."
I looked up and our eyes met again but when I saw her smile, I mirrored it and walked closer. "I'd rather know more about you."
Her amused smile faltered slowly, changing into a loving one, and she tilted her head just as the microwave beeped. She chuckled a bit and turned around, making a bowl for me and one for her, and we sat down at her table, facing each other.
"Okay, tell me what you want to know." she just proposed before taking a bite.
"Okay... age, last name, siblings?" I asked, raising my eyebrows and making her laugh as she chewed.
"You're right, we don't know that much about each other." she admitted with a nod. "We talked at the club but we quickly ended up in your apartment."
I smiled more. "I know you study in fashion and that you used to live with a few friends but that you recently moved here by yourself. I also know that you've only been in two serious relationships, one of them when you were still a teen, and that you've been single for two years. But I have no idea how old you are."
"Glad to know you can stare at me and listen to what I say at the same time!" she joked.
"I'm a multitask guy." I shrugged with a chuckle, making her laugh too.
"I'm 23." she admitted. "I have two older sisters, and my last name is Carpenter."
"Good to know. And apparently, you like romantic movies."
"Don't we all?" she asked with a shrug but chuckling when she saw me raising my eyebrows. "I mean, most of us want to find real love and live happily ever after, right?"
My smile faltered as Grace invaded my head again. I felt a wave of sadness invade me but when I looked up at Summer, I realized she hadn't noticed anything.
"Yeah, I guess it's human nature."
I tried to push my ex girlfriend out of my mind and we kept talking about each other for a while and when she got up to bring her dishes to the dishwasher, I followed her and helped her. She turned my way and looked up in my eyes as I felt my heart jump in my chest at the proximity of our bodies. She smelled exactly the same as she did wat the club. It was that perfume that lasted for 3 days on one of my pillows but I couldn't tell what exactly it smelled like. She started nibbling on her bottom lip while staring at me and I couldn't take my eyes off of her either.
"I want you to know that I normally don't do that."
"Don't do what?" I asked very low.
"Sleep on the first night." she confessed in a whisper. "But you're special, I don't know."
"Is that a good thing?"
Her lips curled and she chuckled, nodding slowly, her eyes never leaving mine. "Mhm, yes."
I was not expecting it but she got on her tiptoes and kissed me gently but firmly. Her lips moved against mine and I tasted her lip-gloss when my tongue ran on bottom lip. It was sticky and it smelled like strawberry, telling me that it was probably her favorite.
"Summer," I murmured between two kisses. "We need to talk."
"I know, but we can do it after."
Her arms wrapped around my neck and I kissed her deeper, pulling her closer. I don't know how we ended up in her room but I knew I went a bit too roughly when I pushed her against the door and she stopped me.
"How about we go on my bed?"
I nodded quickly and grabbed her hand, pulling her gently but quickly with me. I layed on top of her, grinding down against her as she whimpered in my mouth, and I couldn't help but tell myself that it felt even better than the first time. Her shirt and her pants ended on the carpet and I let my lips run down her neck, sliding between her breasts and on her stomach until I reached for her panties. I wanted to taste her, and I could tell how aroused she was just from the way she smelled, but when I pulled her panties down with two of my fingers on the sides, she tensed.
"Niall, please, not today, okay?"
My heart skipped a beat, hoping I didn't ruin the moment, and I moved back up to press my lips on hers. "Okay, anything you want."
"I'll remember that." she joked with a chuckle, making me smile against her mouth.
She grabbed my shirt and moved it over my head before her hands ran in my hair and down my naked back, making me feel the same burning sensation I had felt the first time and when I finally lied down on top of her naked, I realized how similar everything was.
"Summer, baby, you want to ride me?" I asked in a murmur, moving away slightly to look in her eyes.
Her lips parted and she held her breath but after a few seconds, she nodded and licked her lips. I lied down next to her but quickly sat back up, searching for my pants on the floor and grabbing the condom I had brought with me. I could feel guilty for even bringing it as if I expected to have sex with her but my mom always said 'better safe than sorry' and I would have hated myself if I hadn't brought one and didn't have the chance to do that again with her. I lied down on my back and when she straddled me, the sight made my dick twitch and my heart jump. She was hot and watching her move on top of me was definitely going to bring me to an orgasm fast.
I ran my hands on her thighs and when she moved on her knees to sit on my cock, It was my turn to hold my breath while my lips parted. She felt so good around me that I let out a low curse word and blinked a few times, trying to see her better as I became dizzy. She had a small shy smile and I let my hands slid up until her waist just to feel her skin against mine.
"Fuck, you feel amazing."
She started moving over me, riding me gently, and she bent down to kiss me again. I ran my hands on her, wherever I could touch, but she didn't move back her and stayed laying on me. I enjoyed the way her hips were moving against mine and when I felt myself reach an orgasm, I held her waist tighter. I felt her start shaking over me a few seconds after I came and when her body went limp on top of me, I sighed with a smile, running a few of my fingertips on her spine.
"Now, we have to talk." I repeated in a gentle tone, bringing my hand up to move her hair out of her face and press my cheek on the top of her head.
She remained silent for a few seconds but I felt her lips press on my chest and it made me smile. "Mmhm, we can talk now."
#niall horan#niall horan smut#niall horan fluff#niall horan fanfic#niall horan fan fic#niall horan fanfiction#niall horan fan fiction#niall horan story#niall horan writing#niall horan au#niall horan love story#my fanfics#newangel
69 notes
·
View notes
Text
Affettuoso- With Feeling (Part 6)
Pairing: Bucky x Pianist!Reader
Set after the events of TFATWS: In an effort to start over and make a home in Louisiana, Bucky meets a friend of Sam’s who ends up being his landlord. With only a driveway to separate them, he finds that he’s not the only one looking for a fresh start.
Series tags/warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Bucky x Reader, Mentions of Domestic Abuse, Canon Level Violence
Part 6 Word Count: Just over 6k
A/N: It's been such a joy to write this series. Once again, thank you for all your support! Every heart and comment motivates me and is just so wonderful
Taglist!: @vicmc624 @officiallykuute @undiadeestos @tailsoflightning
Read Part 1; Masterlist
“Please join me in welcoming Irina Novikov, the Reigning Queen of Russian Classics!”
Bucky watched from the special box seat as you walked out from the left curtain, the silver embroidery on your sea-reminiscent blue-green dress and matching hairpin glinting in the bright spotlights. You shook hands with the conductor and faced the crowd, greeting them with a deep bow at the waist. You sat at the piano which had been moved from the back left to the front, right by the conductor. The crowd clapped all the way until you sat down on the bench. Bucky watched you smooth out the tea length dress on your lap, your black velvet flat peeking out to settle on the golden pedal.
Bucky tried to pay attention to conductor as he explained the piece, but he was just so confused about the name. He looked down at the program he had gotten at the front. Irina Novikov was featured and italicized, indicating that person as their featured guest for this concert season. There was applause once more as the conductor gestured to you to open with your opening solo piece. Seeing your shoulder rise with your preparing breath, he watched as you raised your arms to begin playing.
The opening notes grew in intensity before settling into a haunting melody. It gradually filled the extravagant room. It was amazing how one instrument could fill an entire room. Or rather, one person. One beautiful, talented person.
You captured the attention of every person in the theater. Framed on either side of the stage with deep red curtains, you were in the spotlight. The way you moved as you played conveyed the emotions of the music. You could have been a dancer, arms moving gracefully up and down the entire length of the black grand piano.
Enchanted, Bucky was focused on you, and only you. The blue tulle cape on your right sleeve of your dress fluttering as you moved, hiding the shoulder. There was one stray piece of hair that moved with you, having fallen out of the low bun you had pinned with a silver chrysanthemum comb. The silver thread twinkled. It was as if you were the night sky itself, clear and brilliant.
---
Earlier in the month…
Bucky had just gotten back from his trip with Sam. Parking his sports bike, he walked into the garage to the door of his apartment, where something was sticking out. A white envelope, addressed simply to his first name. Walking up the steps and chucking the keys on the table, he opened the letter to find a note stuck to a lanyard with a ticket in the holder.
Here’s a season pass I got from the orchestra. If you’ve got nothing better to do, come see me play! :)
He looked down at the bottom where your name was scrawled, half-cursive and half-print. Flipping the ticket around, he saw the dates of all the concerts, the opening of the season being next weekend. Russian Classics-Part One was listed as opening weekend’s theme. Well, that was your specialty, right? He had to come.
Peeking out the window facing your house, he saw that your car was missing from the driveway. Probably at rehearsal. Wait, what do you wear to something like that? Did he even own a suit?
After taking one look into the closet, the answer to that was no. He was going to have to get one. Which is how he ended up at the tailor’s with Sam.
Sam had replied to Bucky’s text on where to get a suit. How have you gone this long without having a suit? Every man needs a good suit. What’s the occasion?
Bucky had texted him back. Never needed one until now. It’s for the concert next weekend.
Oh snap, that is an occasion. Meet me here-
So now, he was sitting in the plush velvet armchair by the entrance, waiting for Sam to show up. He was on his phone, scrolling through the news, trying to avoid the gaze of the sales clerk who was giving him quite the look from under her eyelashes. Thankfully, Sam came to the rescue.
“So, what’s the vibe we’re going for? Sleek? Rich? Mob boss?” Sam asked, rubbing his hands together.
“What? I just need a suit, man.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he mumbled under his breath, before getting hyped up again. “Let’s get you a suit!”
An older Black man dressed in brown slacks and a white button up came up to them and greeted Sam with enthusiasm.
“Sam! Good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you Mr. Frank!” Sam said, hugging him. “You remember my friend Bucky from the cookout, right?”
“Of course, I do. Good to see you Mr. Barnes” Mr. Frank said with a smile that brought out little wrinkles in the corner of his eyes, giving him a handshake.
“Bucky, please.”
“Well Bucky, what can I do for you?”
Sam answered for him. “Bucky here is going to need some suits so that they don’t kick him out when he shows up at the orchestra.”
“The one that your friend is at?”
“Yeah, actually. How do you know that?” Sam asked.
Before Mr. Frank could answer, a familiar voice floated faintly into the room.
“Wow, Selena, it’s absolutely stunning! I honestly couldn’t have asked for better. It’s beautiful.”
Sam and Bucky looked at each other before walking under the arch into the other room, Mr. Frank following. There on the short pedestal, you were standing in the middle of the room, holding the slightly big shimmering blue-green dress to your chest to prevent it from falling while the seamstress pinned the various alterations. Your hair was up in a messy bun, giving the seamstress room to work. The soft light of the chandelier giving you an ethereal glow.
Sam gave a low whistle. “Wow, you are one pretty lady.”
You looked in the mirror to make eye contact with Sam.
“Sam!” You said excitedly, turning your head and causing the seamstress to chastise you while chuckling. Your eyes then flitted to Bucky, suddenly leaving you feeling very exposed. You hadn’t seen him from the angle in the mirror. A blush creeping over your nose, you spoke
“Bucky!” You said with more surprise than enthusiasm. You were very happy to see him. He had just caught you off guard. His eyes lingered on the exposed piece of your back, framed with soft sea foam tulle, before meeting your eyes.
“Hey.” He said simply, before clearing his throat, red creeping up his neck. You stared at each other for a moment before the seamstress hung the measuring tape on her neck and gave the all clear.
“You can move now, but don’t mess up my pins.” Selena said, turning to point at Sam for the last part of the sentence.
“I would never.” Sam said fondly, putting a hand to his chest before wrapping the seamstress in a hug.
“This is my wife, Selena. We’ve owned this shop for the last twenty years.” Mr. Frank explained proudly, introducing Bucky to Selena. “Selena, this is Bucky Barnes, Sam’s right hand man.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” She said with a smile, shaking Bucky’s hand.
You hopped off the pedestal to give Sam a hug.
“I am so excited to get back to performing, Sam. You have no idea. Are you coming next weekend for the opening performance?”
“I’m gonna try my hardest! I have a meeting with Senate that morning, but I’m gonna use the supersuit, try and fly back in time. If I don’t make it Saturday, I will for sure see you on Sunday.”
“Awh, it’s no problem Sammy. I appreciate it. I’ll just be happy if you show up at all this season.” You said, taking a step back and turning towards Bucky.
“Well, Bucky’s going to be there, for sure. That’s actually why we’re here. To get him a suit.” Sam said, tossing Bucky a wink on the side.
“Really?” You said as you looked up at him, eyes sparkling.
“Yeah. You look beautiful… by the way.”
You averted your gaze shyly. “Thank you.” You said meekly, swishing the dress slightly. “I’m glad you’re coming. I was wondering if you had gotten the season pass.”
“I did, thank you.”
Sam, Frank, and Selena all exchanged knowing looks, Sam rolling his eyes while smirking.
“Well, you guys got an exclusive sneak peak at my opening night dress. It was nice to see you guys!” You said as you gathered your dress up, Selena grabbing the back. You waved as you disappeared around the corner into the dressing room.
A few moments went by in silence before Mr. Frank spoke up.
“Well son, I see why you got it bad.” He patted Bucky on the shoulder, turning around and walking towards the main room.
“Well, I-” Bucky started, turning to see that he was alone with Sam, who was leaning over on his knees, holding in the laughter.
An hour later and Bucky had settled on a slim cut dark blue suit and a similar one in light grey. With a handful of ties and a pair of dress shoes, they were at the front to check out.
“So, the suit alterations will be done by this weekend so you can pick it up anytime this Saturday or after.” Before Bucky could pay, Sam held out a hand, shoving his card in the payment kiosk.
“This one’s on me. Just promise me you’ll make it this weekend. I might not be able to. But someone she cares about should make it to her first night back in action.”
Bucky paused before putting a hand on Sam’s shoulder and squeezing. “Thanks man.”
“Anytime, Buck.”
“Actually boys, the bill’s taken care of.” Selena said as she strolled up to the desk. “Your friend footed the bill. So, you’re paid in full.”
---
A week passed by and he hardly saw you to thank you for the suits. You would wave hello and goodbye in passing as you got into your car. Sometimes, you were dressed for physical therapy, donning clothes like army green leggings and an oversized black hoodie. Sometimes, you were dressed in business casual for rehearsals, wearing slim cut khaki slacks and a light blue blouse with the sleeves rolled up into cuffs just above your elbow.
Bucky really didn’t have anything to do since you weren’t around much. Occasionally, he raked the fallen leaves in your yard. He’d finally fixed that mower, though there was no use for it now. So, he spent his days catching up on reading, watching The Hobbit movies and waiting up for you to come home. He couldn’t really sleep if you hadn’t made it home safe yet. Something that had taken him a while to realize. It made him linger by the window facing your house, pretending to watch something on TV until he saw your car come down the driveway.
Today though, he had one thing on his to-do list. Walking into the tailor’s shop to pick up his suits, he saw that the sales clerk from last week with the eyes was working today. He cursed in his head as he walked up to the desk, where she was leaning over trying to show off some cleavage.
“How can I help you?”
“Picking up some suits. My ticket number is-”
“No need, I remember you from last week. Hard to forget a face like that.” She said with a wink as she walked to the back. Bucky purposefully looked the opposite way, clearing his throat in the process.
“Here you go Mr. Barnes, I appreciate your patronage.” She said with a sly smile.
“Thanks.” He responded dryly.
As he grabbed the hanger of the garment bag, she startled him by refusing to let go. Bucky pulled the hanger lightly out of her grasp and left. Sure, she was conventionally attractive. But she doesn’t hold a candle to you.
---
On the evening of the concert, Bucky turned to look in the mirror, making an impressed face. He didn’t look half bad. The dark blue suit had a little bit of texture, and while the white button-up made him feel a little claustrophobic, the wine colored tie really brought it all together. Running his fingers through his hair to straighten it up, he didn’t look bad at all. It made him happy that like this, he looked like a normal guy who cleaned up nice. Well, almost. He had gotten a finer, more delicate set of black leather gloves. Ones that weren’t so clunky, to match the nicer clothes he had gotten.
He looked at the clock. Still had time to buy flowers. He’s got to do something nice for your opening night. Taking a backpack, he started his bike and drove to first florist in the city to find a gift. He took a lap, everything he was looking at blending together. Red roses were too formally romantic… Daisies were too casual…
Rounding the corner of the counter, he saw a small arrangement peak out from behind a large one. It was a smaller jar filled with a few blush pink peonies, with a few stems of lily-of-the-valley, lilac and eucalyptus pouring out of the sides. Wrapped around the neck of the jar was a crème colored satin ribbon, pinned with a small square cut emerald brooch.
“Ah, that’s the perfect gifting pair, one gift to enjoy now and one to last!” The florist said, popping out from the back. Bucky thought back to your room, with the soft sage greens and soft crèmes. It was perfect. Bucky nodded while holding up his backpack.
“Uh. Is there anyway I could get it to last a trip in this backpack on a motorcycle?”
---
The florist first emptied most of the water, wrapped it in plastic, and then put it in a firm cardboard box. Carefully setting it in his backpack, Bucky thanked the florist, tipping him extra. He waved on the way out of the store, feeling good about the flowers he had picked out. The ten minute ride from the florist to the concert hall was taken very carefully.
Parking his bike and joining the long lines of well dressed people, he felt a little self conscious wearing a backpack and holding his lanyard. He tried not to draw any attention to himself as he made his way slowly up to the box office.
“Welcome to the Louisiana Philharmonic! May I see your ticket?” A perky young woman in usher’s attire asked through glass.
“Sure.” He said, sliding the lanyard through the window.
“Hey, you can’t bring backpacks in the concert hall.” The security guard said, pointing at the bag Bucky was holding.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I just-”
“Either return it to your vehicle or throw it away.” The man sternly said before the usher whispered through clench teeth and gestured for the security guard to come over. Bucky couldn’t hear exactly what she was saying, but he caught every other word or so.
Ticket… Ms. Novikov’s personal box… have to let…
The security guard squinted his eyes at Bucky before gesturing at the bag.
“What’s inside?”
“Just my wallet, keys, and some flowers.” Bucky said, unzipping the bag to show him. The security guard had him open the box and show him the flowers for good measure before grumbling something, handing the lanyard back, and letting him pass.
Yikes… Bucky thought, putting as much distance between him and security as he could. Getting up to the usher, he showed him the ticket as he was handed a program. The usher took a moment to look at the ticket before directing him to the left, away from where everyone was walking.
“Box one will be on the second floor, last entrance on the right.”
Huh.
Bucky walked up the stairs, passing a fancy bar and going down the empty hallway. Coming upon an entryway labeled Box One, he pushed aside the heavy red curtain to find that he was directly overlooking the stage. He was the closest balcony seat to the stage, the private viewing area containing five seats, two in the front and three on the step behind, staggering the tiers so that everyone could see properly. Sitting in one of the front seats, the one closest to the stage, he admired the scene.
The seats were plush and comfortable, the architecture of the theatre traditional yet stunning. The stage was framed by a huge rectangular arch that was rounded at the edges. The gold on the trim and handrails accentuated the softly glowing lights that hung in two rows over the aisles. Each bulb was captured in a long tube of rectangular glass, creating the image of a row of glowing piano keys floating in the aisles.
Speaking of pianos, the shiny black grand piano in the front caught his attention. The keys were facing him. If this is where you were playing, he would be looking at your back and have a clear view of your hands. Most of the musicians were already on stage, except for you, warming up for the night. Suddenly the orchestra stopped, commanding everyone’s curiosity. The sound of dress shoes against the stage prompted applause as the conductor, an older man, walked out onto stage. After pausing to let the applause die down, he gestured for someone to come out. There was more applause as the first chair violinist, the concert master, walked out onto stage. The woman bowed before playing a note, prompting the rest of the orchestra to tune to her pitch. She did this several times before giving a nod to the conductor and sitting down in the first chair of the row of violins.
Clearing his throat, the conductor grabbed the mic and turned towards the crowd, slight German accent coming through.
“Good evening. It is my pleasure to welcome you to the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra.” The crowd gave more applause before he continued.
“My name is Arthur Albrecht, your guest conductor for this season. This weekend we have a lovely selection of classics that stem from Russian composers.” He went on to explain some of the history behind Russian composers and how their music was influenced by their culture. Bucky looked at the piano that was still empty, wondering where you were. A sudden loudening of the conductors voice snapped his attention back.
“We have with us this season, the most lovely pianist, nicknamed for her excellent performance of these very pieces. Please join me in welcoming Irina Novikov, the Reigning Queen of Russian Classics!”
---
Sam had showed up right before the end of the first piece, dressed in concert attire. Playing the last chord, you held it down as it reverberated all around the auditorium, waiting for the slow fade before finally releasing the keys. A moment of silence emphasized the heavy digestion of a piece such as that. Then, the applause and whistles came. People stood up in waves as you got up from the bench and bowed once more.
Sam and Bucky stood up as they clapped, just in time as you looked towards the box. Eyes flitting over Sam, you made eye contact with Bucky before bursting into a big smile, the breathlessness from the adrenaline making the rise and fall of your chest evident. Turning back to the crowd, you graciously accepted their applause. Sam glanced to his side at Bucky. But there was no acknowledgement. Bucky stood smiling and clapping, completely enamored, completely smitten by you.
---
After a few longer pieces that included the entire orchestra, the lights came on to signal the intermission. Bucky and Sam got up leisurely, greeting each other and stretching their legs.
“Glad you were able to get here.”
“I did! That suit is amazing, man. Stupid fast.”
“You’re welcome.” Bucky said, bemused.
They chatted for a few minutes before the curtain moved, letting light in from the hallway.
“You guys made it!” You said as you hopped down the two steps before hugging Bucky, who was closest to the aisle.
“Woah, you’re gonna push me off of the balcony!” He joked, steadying himself before hugging you back tightly around his waist, resting his chin on the top of your head. You let him go, moving onto hug Sam. He squeezed you back saying, “You were amazing! And these fancy seats you scored us really let us in on the action.”
“Yes, it was incredible, seeing you play up there on that stage.”
Practically radiating happiness, you tucked the one loose strand of hair behind your ear as you let go of Sam and faced the both of them.
“Thank you guys so much for coming. I was so nervous to get back in the spotlight. Especially as a featured artist, you know?”
“Oh yeah, speaking of-” Sam said as he reached into his suit pocket for the program. “Who’s Irina Novikov?”
“Oh, shoot. I’ve been so busy with rehearsal; I didn’t even get a chance to tell you. One of the things that we worked out in my contract is that I work under a stage name, and they get all the talent of a known artist. That way, I can… avoid anyone who’s looking for me.” There was a slight pause, Bucky chiming in to lighten the mood.
“Okay, but ‘Reigning Queen of Russian Classics?’”
“Hey now, I got that nickname ever since I won that International Rachmaninoff Piano competition while I was in college. When I got back, my friends threw me a huge party with a banner that said that, and now it’s followed me throughout my career. It started as a joke, but now I kind of like it.” You said, laughing.
“Well, you basically are!” Sam exclaimed, gesturing out to the stage. “You’re gonna tell me that you don’t look like royalty up there? Especially with this dress.”
As you smiled and accepted Sam’s compliments, Bucky’s eyes finally got a chance to take in the full dress. Selena had done a fantastic job. The silver accents sparkled lightly, the fabric orchid blossoms making their way up one sleeve. She had made it to look like the bodice was made of two large delicate petals of a sea green blossom. If Thor was the god of thunder, you were the goddess of greenery.
“Ms. Novikov,” an attendant called as they peaked their head through the curtain.
“One moment!” You called back. “Sorry, excuse me for one second.”
You looked like you were practically floating as you pulled up the dress slightly to go up the couple steps, the waves of fabric moving like a mist off of the sea. The attendant said something in a hushed tone and you sighed. The attendant left and you made your way back over to them.
“I have to go, but thank you both so much for coming. I mean it.” You said, each of your hands reaching out and squeezing one of their arms.
“Wait, I got this for you.” Bucky said, reaching for his backpack. He carefully took out the cardboard box and removed it off of the vase of flowers. He watched as your face lit up.
“Oh, these are beautiful Bucky. Thank you so much. I’m going to take them to my dressing room.” You said as you accepted the flowers, gently rubbing one of the petals between your fingers.
“You have a dressing room?”
“Yeah! Its around the hall and down the stairs. If you want to see it after the show. I’ll tell the attendant at the bottom of the stairs to let you through. You too Sammy.”
“Alright, sounds like a plan.” Sam responded.
“Okay, see you guys after!”
You walked away, arranging the flowers in the vase with a small smile on your face. Bucky watched you walk away before turning to Sam who, for once, had a serious expression on his face.
“What?”
“She’s a good one, Buck.”
“What does that mean?”
“You know what it means.”
“Aren’t you the one she calls Sammy?”
“Oh, so you noticed that because you’re jealous.”
“No, of course not-”
“She’s a nice girl.” Sam said, cutting him off. “I think you two would be great together.”
Bucky bit his lip and looked to the side. “I don’t think so. I’ve still got… so much going on.”
“No offense to either of you, but so does she. She makes you happy. I can tell just by how you perk up around her. You deserve to be happy. And so does she. You know you have the same effect on her, right?”
Bucky didn’t answer.
“You’re a good person, Buck. She’s a good one, and so are you. So, give it a shot. Don’t be afraid to be happy.”
Bucky paused before swallowing and nodding.
“Thanks.”
“Of course, man. Anytime.” Sam said, putting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.
---
The show ended with a standing ovation. The conductor took a bow, then signaled to you. You swung an arm out and gestured to the orchestra, giving them credit before you took a deep bow at the waist. When you came up, you clapped along with the crowd, facing the orchestra to applaud everyone’s fine work.
Bucky and Sam turned right out of the box, which was the opposite direction that the crowd was filing out in. After rounding the corner, they found a stairwell heading downwards, just as you had said. At the bottom, the attendant greeted them, leading all the way down to the end of the hall to the last room.
“Ms. Novikov? Your guests are here.” The attendant called, knocking on the door.
“Thank you! You can send them in.” You called from inside the room.
The attendant opened the door and gestured for them to enter. Walking in, they admired the aura of being backstage of a performance. The attendant shut the door behind them, leaving them with you as you sat at the vanity. You were adjusting your hair, just having taken it out of the bun that it was in. Soft curls fell out and framed your face, the lightbulbs around the vanity giving you a halo of sorts. The cement-bricked walls kept the room cool, housing the green velvet couches, mini fridge, coffee table and faux fur rug. There was a three-paneled, gold mirror right next to the bathroom. There was a clothes rack with several garment bags hanging from it.
“Wow, major movie star vibes in here.” Sam commented, touching the edge of the velvet couches.
“Thanks! This is the suite for guest artists. Every time they have a guest star, they make a little nameplate and hang it up outside. When my time is up, they’ll stick it outside of the room with the others.” You said, now getting up from the vanity. Your hairpiece was set down on the vanity, next to an open velvet box that held your earrings.
“I didn’t realize you were making big money like this! Dang, can’t Captain America get a raise?” Sam joked.
“Ha ha,” you said sarcastically. “I will admit I get a nice salary, but the only things I spend money on are fancy dresses and jewelry to perform in. Gotta keep up the look, give people something to see.”
“And that you do.” Sam said as he chuckled. The sound of a phone vibrating paused the conversation.
“Oh, hold on, I gotta take this. This might take a minute. Be right back.”
That left you and Bucky. You looked at him for a moment before settling down on one of the couches, folding your legs underneath of you and resting your arm against the back cushion to support your head. Swallowing, Bucky tentatively sat down next to you. It remained silent before you both spoke up at once.
“I know I-”
“I’m so happy you-”
You laughed and he gestured for you to go ahead.
“I was just going to say, thank you. I’m so happy that you came to support me. It’s been a long road to get here and I just want to let you know how much I appreciate you. I wasn’t expecting for us to be friends at all, and here we are. I’m so thankful for it. You’re just… amazing.” You said, smiling softly at him. He felt the red creep up his neck and didn’t know what to say. Fortunately, you figured that and gave him an out.
“What were you going to say?” You now gestured to him. Taking a moment, he cleared his throat.
“I was going to say, I know I already said this earlier but the concert was amazing. You sounded great.”
“Thank you.” You said simply, still staring into his ice blue eyes.
“And you look great.”
“Yeah?” You said amusedly as you raise your eyebrows.
“Yeah. You look beautiful. One might even say stunning.” A little of the old Bucky, the smooth-talking one, made a surprise appearance.
“Oh? Who’s the one?” You scooched closer to him.
“I thought it was obvious.”
“Not to me.”
His eyes met yours in a deciding moment. You watched as his eyes flickered down to your lips momentarily. You wondered if he could notice how your breath quickened.
“Ms. Novikov?”
The attendant’s voice was muffled through the door. The knocking that preceded it had startled you out of your moment. Tentatively, the door was opened just a crack.
“They’re ready to toast the champagne.” They called in. You sighed and got up.
“I’ll be there momentarily, thank you.” You called back. Satisfied, the attendant walked away, the soft clicking of dress shoes slowly fading away. You turned towards Bucky, who had also stood up.
“They’re opening a bottle of champagne in celebration of opening night, if you’d like to join me.” Your fingers nervously picking at each other.
“Yeah, of course.” He accepted, somewhat awkwardly. You tried not to be disappointed about what might’ve happened if the attendant hadn’t interrupted. Turning towards the door, you were stopped by his hand gently grasping your upper arm. Eyes wide, you whipped your head around. Bucky opened his mouth, though no sound came out.
“Yes?” You said softly, features softening from shock to gentle anticipation.
“Did I hear the attendant say something about champagne?” Sam’s voice floated in through the crack of the door. Quickly, Bucky dropped your arm and you turned towards the door. Sam opened the door and eyed the both of you. His expression changed slightly as he looked back from you to Bucky, eyes narrowing slightly.
“Did I interrupt something?”
“No.” Bucky said quickly.
“Not at all!” You said, a little nervously. Clearing your throat, you smoothed out the front of your dress. “Let’s go, they’re handing out champagne on stage.” You flitted around Sam and into the hall. Sam raised an eyebrow at Bucky, who gave him a look that told him not to ask. They followed you to the stage where the chairs had been cleared to the side to make room. The red curtains were drawn, separating the stage from the auditorium where people were still filtering out.
Upon seeing you, the conductor cleared his throat and called everyone’s attention. It fell quiet as he made your presence known. An attendant handed you a glass of champagne and you quietly requested two more for Sam and Bucky.
“This had been such a wonderful opening night. We’re so happy to have you with us this season, Ms. Novikov.” He started. A hum of agreement made it’s way around the other orchestra members. “It is a delight and an honor. Without your charity, we would not be standing on this stage tonight. Truly, you have helped us keep this program successful and alive in such turbulent times.” The orchestra broke out into thanks and cheers. Your face lit up, your smile breaking out into one bigger than it had in a long time.
“If I may, I’d like to say a few words, Arthur.” You said, gently squeezing his arm with your free hand. The conductor reciprocated warmly, setting his hand atop your before you let go. Looking behind you to make sure that the attendant had gotten Sam and Bucky some glasses, you started speaking.
“Many of you know that this is the first I’ve performed in quite some time now. The road to recovery was and still proves to be difficult. But I’m so happy to have found my way back to performing, and it is an honor that it be with the incredibly talented people in front of me. Each and every one of you has cause to be proud. This was an incredible performance. And it is with pleasure that I say the real recognition goes to you all. With all of your hard work, you were able to reopen the concert hall and provide people with a bit of respite in a time of rebuilding.”
You raised your glass. “So, with that, I say we toast. To growth, and a wonderful season.”
The others raised their glasses while repeating the words. After the celebratory sip, another round of cheers erupted. Several members came up to you with words of thanks and commendation. The jovial atmosphere under the golden hue of the stage lights made it feel surreal. Bucky looked at you, nodding your head and redirecting praise to whomever you were talking to. Your dress made you stand out in a sea of black suits and black dresses, like a gemstone amongst the coal. He’d never seen anyone so beautiful, inside and out. He was snapped out of his daze when he heard you excuse yourself politely and walking back over to them.
“Sorry about the long speech, guys. Thanks for staying.” You apologized, tucking your hair behind your ear.
“Are you kidding? That was beautiful. I’m glad your back to it. You seem happy.” Sam said, always quicker than Bucky with the responses.
“I am.” You said with a big smile, gaze moving over to Bucky.
Normally, Sam would be rolling his eyes or something at Bucky, but a text stole his attention away. He looked at his phone and cursed under his breath, scrolling through something. Bucky took the moment to ask a question.
“What’d you do for them?”
You swallowed the sip you had taken and looked at him with a confused expression.
“What?”
“Sorry, for the orchestra. They mentioned charity.”
“Ah. Yes.” You looked over at Sam, who was busy texting a reply.
“I, uh… Some unexpected problems with the building were going to close the orchestra. They couldn���t afford to fix it. So, I donated half of my salary for the season to repair the theater.”
Bucky looked at you incredulously. You smiled sheepishly under his gaze.
“What?” You responded, as if he was the strange one for the reaction. You never got it though, Sam now done on his phone.
“I’m sorry, but something came up. I thought it could wait ‘til morning, but things are developing a lot quicker than I thought. We need to go.” Sam said, looking at Bucky.
Bucky opened his mouth and closed it, nodding in reluctant understanding.
“I’m proud of you. Great job tonight. Sorry we have to leave so suddenly.” Sam said, hugging you.
“Oh please, don’t apologize. Go save the world. I’ll see you when you get back. Thanks again for coming.” You said, rubbing a hand on his back before letting go. Sam looked at his phone again before looking at Bucky.
“Your go-bag is on the plane; I’ll meet you there.” He said, before walking away, giving you one more wave before typing on his phone. You and Bucky turned to each other, not saying anything. You spoke first, reluctance filling your voice.
“You should probably go. Sounds important.” You said, looking up at him.
“Yeah…” Bucky looked in the direction that Sam had walked away in before turning back to you, still unmoving. He opened his mouth to speak, unsure of what to say before settling on an apology.
“I’m sorry.” Something told you he was probably apologizing for more than just having to leave.
“It’s okay,” you said softly, placing a hand on his arm and squeezing gently. “Be safe. I’ll see you when you get back, right?”
He nodded and you reluctantly dropped your hand. He walked backstage, but not before looking back at you one last time. Someone had approached you, but you were still watching him. You gave a little wave and then he was gone. You took a big sip of your drink and nodded at whatever was being said to you.
Bucky Barnes was going to be the death of you.
#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes fluff#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky imagine#reader insert#SoundCloud
41 notes
·
View notes