#( but since my verses have such different situations it’s hard to figure out ) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

undercoverpan · 11 months

Text

College of Pandora

In another world, Spider would be caught by the recoms, taken away to the human stronghold. In another world, he would be tortured, made to act as a guide and translator. He'd watch tulkun be hunted, he'd crash a ship, he'd be held hostage, and he'd return to the Sullys.

In this world, they sent his ass to school.

–---

The Parker Institute is the very first school on Pandora. Since they couldn't exactly make it a kindergarten, it's one of the most advanced colleges out there, with state-of-the-art amenities. Their students are served breakfast, lunch and dinner, as well as small snacks and drinks throughout the day. They employ the highest rated professors to teach subjects anywhere from the Arts to Robotics. They have a large number of facilities for activities such as archery club, track, cooking, and more.

It's arguably one of the most expensive schools ever made. Students pay upwards of 1 million dollars in order to attend. Only the absolute best of the best attend on scholarship. The students will study their respective subjects, as well as be the first students on Pandora, a 'test run'. But it's definitely safe!

–-------

Spider felt like peeling his skin off. The walls were smooth and cold to the touch, glossy and white. There was very little to look at except for 2 chairs, nothing natural about this. He tried to hug himself to conserve warmth, but it did very little. He had been left here after his capture, after they came in and asked strange questions and did tests.

He didn't even know where 'here' was.

Suddenly, the door opened. That bitch, Ardmore, stepped through, but she was followed by another figure. They were dressed in dark blue, the fabric hugging their body. It fell around their legs loosely, starting at the hip, a bit like an upside down flower. He'd never seen a human dress like that, or a Na'vi for that matter.

They looked like an older woman, but different. The wrinkles on her face made her look sharp, unlike Mo'ats wrinkles. Those came from laughter and hard work. He got the feeling that the woman spent most of her life scowling. "Is this the boy?" She asked, her voice as sharp as her gaze. She judged as harshly as the older Na'vi when they saw him playing with the Sullys. Ardmore only nodded. "Now what am I to do with him? I've not been trained to domesticate, I'm afraid." She sniffed.

"Well, what am I gonna do with him?" Asked Ardmore, "The only option is to keep him locked in a cell, and while I'm saying I don't want to do that, I'm saying that those cells are needed for things other than him." She finished harshly. The two spoke over him like he wasn't even there, and that really started to grind on his nerves.

"So what, I'm supposed to let this boy into my school? Don't be ridiculous." She huffed. "You are going to keep him in your damn school, and that's final. You don't want me contacting Parker about a new principal, now do you?" The woman grit her teeth. "Fine," she said, "I'll deal with him."

Ardmore left soon enough, as did the woman. He didn't know how much time passed, but he was antsy.

–------

There was talking outside the room. It was muffled, but Spider could make out the words if he pressed his ear against the door.

"Ah, m--ma'am, while I really am just so honoured that you chose me for the task, I really can't do this. I mean, um, I'm not very well versed in these types of situations and I believe that perhaps one of the professors would be better suited for the task."

This voice was new. Young and light, but filled with an energy that was making him jittery.

"Miranda, darling, I have nothing but utmost and complete faith in your capabilities, and therefore, I believe that you would be best suited for acclimating the boy to school life."

This one was familiar, the old woman in strange clothes. She sounded less harsh here, even almost sweet. Sickly sweet.

"Ma'am, please, I'm already busy with several school related projects as well as the other projects you've assigned to me! I don't believe I have the time, knowledge or resources to handle such a task!"

The younger voice sounded almost desperate.

"Oh, please. You have access to more resources than anyone on the planet, you have plenty of time, and you are one of our top students here. I have absolutely no doubt that you can do this. Now here, take this and note down what you think the boy might need, and send the info to the others in the RHA."

"Wha--bu–"

There was a clicking noise that slowly went farther and farther away. He heard someone breathing erratically, pacing outside the room.

Then, the door clicked open. Spider hurriedly stepped back, taking a defensive stance. In stepped a strange figure. She was tall, taller than him even. Her hair was held back by a white band, with bangs covering her forehead. Her hair was jet black, darker than anything he'd seen before, poofy and curly. Her skin was brown, like the base of Hometree. She had a stronger nose than the other humans he's seen before, with dark brown eyes. There were these small spots all over her face, like the tahni of the Na'vi.

She wore what he could only describe as sleek. She wore a white full body piece, layered with something Norm taught him was called a "blazer". Disappointingly, it wasn't some article of clothing made of fire, but instead, it was a cloth that covered the back and arms, and parted at the front with a collar. It was deep blue in colour, lined with white and unnecessary buttons and pockets. There was cloth around her legs, a skirt. It was the same blue as the blazer, falling around her knees in a pleated pattern.

She had her hands clasped around a tablet. As she walked in, she smiled at him, but he could tell she wasn't very happy about being here. Granted, neither was he, but he was just abducted and is now seemingly awaiting execution or torture. So perhaps their situations are not so comparable.

"Hello!" She greeted, stepping towards him with an outstretched hand. He backed up further from her, hissing. It had the achieved effect of making her step away, her smile growing tight. "Right, right, raised by the Na'vi, why didn't I expect that? Sorry." She said, clearing her throat. "So, my name is Miranda Katarina, I'll be your um, your guide? Heh," she laughed nervously. Walking towards one of the chairs in the room, she sat down, gesturing for him to do the same. He remained in the far corner in the room.

"No? That's okay, I get it, I get it." Pulling the tablet in front of her, quickly pulling something up. "Okay, so I'm in charge of your education and all that, but first I need to know what kind of education you need. Can you please read this and tell me what it says?"

She held the screen towards him. It displayed many words close together, like one of the old report logs he's read before. He shifted his gaze towards her, her face looking at him pleasingly, as if she was saying please don't make this difficult. She looked so very….what's the word? Sad? No, hmmm….ah! That's right, she looked a bit pathetic. Up close, he could see dark bags under her eyes, her pupils dilated. She was smiling, but again, it was sad. How did she make such a happy expression look so upsetting?

Reluctantly, he walked near her, trying to read the words displayed.

Mr. Hungerton, her father, really was the most tactless person upon earth,—a fluffy, feathery, untidy cockatoo of a man, perfectly good-natured, but absolutely centered upon his own silly self. If anything could have driven me from Gladys, it would have been the thought of such a father-in-law. I am convinced that he really believed in his heart that I came round to the Chestnuts three days a week for the pleasure of his company, and very especially to hear his views upon bimetallism, a subject upon which he was by way of being an authority.

The words were framed in a way that made them hard to understand. He was by way of being an authority? What? And that's not mentioning the few foreign words that are used. Cockatoo?

His confusion must've been on his face as well, because she pulled it away from him. "Well, I geuss that you'll need linguistics," she spoke, switching the screens and tapping it, as if writing something. "It's a great class, really, they teach languages like english, french, dutch, even Na'vi. It'll be easier for you to communicate there." She gave these reassurances as if they were supposed to calm him, but they did everything but. He didn't want to learn the demons language, he knew enough already. He wasn't stupid, just raised with better morals. Na'vi had no written words, there was never any need.

He narrowed his eyes.

"You know, this would be over sooner if--if you spoke. To me. Please speak to me." She said, still smiling. He really didn't like how her face and voice made him feel guilty. "It's okay if you can't, you know, you can be taught, it's fine, it's fine!" She waved her hands, as if physically trying to remove the tension, "I--I just need to know if that's the case. I mean, it would be just, like, a big help and the process would go smoother and you know what? You could–, you could go to your own room, and I, um, I can't let you go home, sorry about that, but I can! Um, I can get you a room with a view of the forest? Of course, it won't really be in there, but you'd see it every day, and I'm sure it's not as great as the real thing, but, you know, it's something. And I don't actually have a lot of authority, so it's really all I can do–"

He cuts her off. "Shh, shh," he says, holding his hand out, "Stop talking. Seriously, just….stop." He walks over to the other chair, pulling it back and sitting. It was obvious she wasn't a soldier, she didn't have that indifference towards life in her eyes. She could be a researcher, but she didn't quite look the part. No white lab coat, nothing. "What are you, and what do you want from me?"

Because if it was the Na'vi she wanted, then she's not getting anything. She'd have the pry the knowledge out of his teeth, and he could tell she didn't have the guts. He'd protect them with his life, it was the least he could do.

"Oh!" She said, surprised, "Ah, I'm Miranda, I'm the head of the Student Government at Parker Institute." She said sheepishly, "You'll be attending, and I am here to make sure that you go to where you need to go, and that you acclimate well."

He still didn't know what that meant exactly, but he got the gist. She was like his keeper, the watchdog that has to keep tabs on him. He frowned.

"So, I've got you down for linguistics, are there other areas that you, ah, feel like could be improved?" She asked tentatively. He scoffed at the idea. You could always improve, you could always do better. But with the Na'vi, with Neytiri, being good or better just didn't make a difference. But he still gave his all to them, it was the least he could offer. A meagre apology, all things considered.

"M-math? Maybe? Or–, you know, they told me you lived a more 'Na'vi' lifestyle, you could do woodwork, or pottery, or even theatre," she suggested, looking down at the screen as though she was reading off of a list, "There's also botany and zoology. It's kinda like what Dr. Grace Augustine studied before her, um…." She grimaced, hesitating, contemplating her words, "....her untimely passing."

A thick silence fell over the room.

She coughed, clearing her throat. "So, I'll sign you up for um, Woodworking. I'll put you down for math–," he speaks up, "No way." He says gruffly, and she flashes a smile before looking down at her pad. "O-okay, no math. That's fine, you know, that's fine. What about other subjects? We have, uh, just about everything. There's the Arts, that's like a general term for things like theatre and painting and crafts. We have engineering, that's where you make machines, and chemistry, that's where you mostly use chemicals."

None of that sounded interesting, but….

"....I want to do what Dr. Grace did.." He said quietly. She smiled, typing something out on the tablet. "Okay, botany and zoology. Did you want to try out, like, a general course first or do you want to do, like, something more specific, like marine life…?" He scrunched his nose, crossing his arms. "What did Dr. Grace do?" She looked down, fingers moving swiftly across the screen, "Mostly wildlife that lived in the forest, marine life research is mostly Dr. Gavins."

He didn't know who Dr. Gavin was at all, so he really didn't feel like taking his course. For all he knew, he was out there torturing innocent sea creatures.

"Okay, you know what, we'll just start off with 3 classes for now, and later, we can try different classes!" She got up, tablet grasped in her left hand as she approached the exit. She paused, just as she was about to open the door, turning back to him. "D–did you want some clothes? Do you want some clothes?" She asked carefully, and he hissed at the mention of wearing the constricting cloth the demons call clothes. "I only offer because, ah, the school is usually colder than this," she gestured to the room they were in, "And you're already pretty, um, cold."

She mumbled the last bit, but he heard her. Defiantly, he pulled his arms to his side, "I'm not cold." He said, loudly, looking at her with some sense of determination. "You--you're cold. You're freezing, actually." She was mumbling again, before clearing her throat. Shyly, she looked him up and down. He looked at himself, just now noticing the slight shivering and goosebumps that covered his skin. She turned away. "I can get you a coat, maybe?"

And that's how he ended up in a coat. It bore no RDA logo, seeming more like personal cloth than something the RDA provided. It was more of an ocean blue, with this strange red pattern across it. He thinks he saw them in a book once, something about earth and flowers. It smelled strange, but pleasant. It was more natural than whatever it was that they used to scrub the walls.

They walked the halls, with him hissing and glaring at the soldiers who looked at him too long. They eventually made it to a long corridor, completely made of glass. All around them, Pandora glowed. He hadn't noticed that night had fallen. Looking outside, past the see-through walls, he felt upset. He could imagine the touch and smell of every plant out there, like the soft glow could be held in his hands.

"This is the school's entrance." She spoke up, breaking the uneasy silence the two had been walking in. Somehow, the skyperson seemed more afraid of him than he was of her, which was strange. She was larger, but probably not stronger than someone who swings off trees every day.

"Un--unfortunately, we weren't able to prepare a–, um, room for you," she said as she pulled some kind of card from her breast pocket, pressing it against a scanner. The doors opened with a low hiss, revealing white walls. Really, what was humanity's obsession with white? He recalls Norm telling him something about spills, but he felt like no amount of spills could justify making a place look whiter than a snowy mountain.

"So you'll just have to room with me, and tomorrow we can do a tour and start your classes."

She spared him an apologetic glance, one he ignored in favour of glaring at her. He'd never shared his room with anyone, mainly because his was too cramped for Kiri or Lo'ak to sleep in, Neteyam hated being inside the shack with a burning passion, and Tuk wasn't allowed to go to sleep there due to the air thing. It was a little lonely, especially when he dreamed of getting to sleep in a big pile like the Na'vi. And he'll claim that there's no one specific holding him, just warm hands and entangled limbs on a cold night in a hammock.

This was not that.

This was being led up white stairs, seeing these doors lined across a hallway. He is being led farther away from those doors, up more stairs, up more stairs, led down another hall. The white walls are genuinely numbing to him. He accidentally bumps into her when she stops unexpectedly in front of a door. For just a split second, he feels fabric on his bare chest. Smooth, soft fibres against his skin. And in that exact same second, they scrambled away from each other. They regard each other carefully, eyes wide and shoulders tense.

A beat of silence passes.

"Th--This is my room." She says, eyes trained on him for a moment before taking that same card from before and pressing it onto a scanner. The door swings open, and she steps inside, and he hesitates. She turns to him with that same pleading look. As if to say please come in. Depressingly, he feels almost excited; he's never really been wanted somewhere, much less someone's room. But she is a demon and this is her fortress, so being wanted here is actually a very bad thing.

He pushes down the joy and welcomes the trepidation.

He steps in after her, regarding the room with suspicion. He can only assume he's being watched here.

The room is big, bigger than his room in the shack. Massive windows reveal Pandora's beauty, glowing and luminescent under the night sky. The room is white, yes, but he could see dark blue along the walls. The ceiling was high, small lights dimmed to almost nothing. A large bed was off to the corner of the room, with deep blue sheets and pillows. The cover was laid neatly, the pillows stacked and smoothed so they looked like no one used them. Hesitantly, he steps forwards.

There is a carpet beneath his feet. It was light in colour, more off-white than anything, with intricate little symbols. The most intricacies he'd seen on anything made by humans was the innards of the terrible machines they used. He'd never really thought of the textile works of humans. Begrudgingly, he thought it was quite pretty, if a bit old.

There were artworks lined against the other wall, opposite of the windows. He eyed them carefully. Paintings of men and women in the strangest clothing he'd ever seen, loose and colourful as it hung from their bodies. Women wearing cloth tied over their hair, with thick dark locks, smiling and dancing or holding instruments. Men dancing along with them, with the same dark locks and brown skin.

Strange.

"You can sleep in my bed tonight," she says, walking over to the desk that was stationed a few feet away from the bed. Multiple monitors were on top, pens and pencils and notebooks and papers littered across the smooth brown surface. The desk was intricate, small compartments and buttons and such. This didn't seem like any human or Na'vi bedroom he'd ever seen before.

But all the desks and beds and carpets and art didn't matter.

What did matter was the strange little tree on the table beside the bed. It was small and curved, with branches reaching out. The leaves were a vibrant orange hue, so delicate and beautiful. Most trees in Pandora were a beautiful green that caught and reflected the light so majestically. They swayed gently in the wind, as if Eywa herself was using them to play a melody.

This tree was small and captivating in its own sense. It almost looked out of place, just as much of a prisoner as Spider. Except he wasn't confined to some kind of pot and kept in one place. He felt a sort of kindred spirit with the tree; both trapped and unable to escape the–, the demoness that held them prisoner in her bedroom. The demoness that sat on her chair at her desk, like some kind of throne, watching her kingdom of hell.

He walked facing her. He was definitely not going to turn his back to her, he knew better than to trust a demon.

He ran his hand across the covers. Too plush, too velvety. Humans never seemed to have a good middleground, always too this or too that. The bed is the same, but at the very least, he was certain of one thing: the bed is safe. Of course it is. They'll want him alive so they can try to extract information from him. But he couldn't afford to let his guard down. He knew of how the sky people could deceive others, how he they could even decieve themselves.

That's how he ends up beneath blue covers, staring at the human.

She wasn't lying when she said it would get cold. The icy air felt like fire against his skin until he caved and slipped beneath the blanket. It was warm, but strangely, only smelled synthetic. He knew his blanket smelled like him, that the one that he and Kiri wove together once smelled like FRUIT and the one Lo'ak had tried making him once smelled of burnt fibres thanks to him setting it on fire, a little bit. These smelled unused. Unloved.

Ignoring the smell, he was managing to not fall asleep. Instead, he spent his time making sure she didn't try to do anything. And he was succeeding! All she's done is type away at her keyboard and drink coffee. She looks positively miserable. Good.

______

The morning light slowly crept upon them. The light bathed the room the room in gold, making it look brighter than it did in the night. The light caught on her eyelashes differently, more of a glow rather than how the moonlight made them shimmer. He could very clearly see dark circles beneath her eyes as she wiped away at the crust near her eyes. Those same eyes that looked like the same dark brown swirling in her cup during the night now looked like the brown of his bow. He could even make out flecks of gold.

She stretched her arms above her head with an audible crack and pop. Sighing, she leaned back into her chair, elbow resting on the armrest, rubbing at the bridge of her nose with pinched fingers.

He was also tired. Staying up all night, watching her, trying to keep warm lest he freeze to death.

Then suddenly, there was a ding at the door. The girl got up, walking towards the door and opening it. She took a tray from someone standing on the other end, conversing with them in a hushed tone.

"Yes, he stayed in my room tonight. I don't think he's sleeping, so keep your voice down." She whispered, "I'll be showing him around campus today, so please tell Adam and Eve that I can only call them today, maybe facetime if I get lucky. If there are any updates on Ms Carole's condition, do not hesitate to contact me."

The unknown person leaned in and whispered something in his ear.

"Yes, okay, I'll try to set up an official visit for the colonel and his team. Please let him know that I have Spider, and that he can drop in at the end of the day."

….

Please do not let him do that.

He didn't want to see that demon, he couldn't stomach looking at his face. Na'vi killer, demon, monster, dad. He brought a whirlwind of rage and terror and other emotions he couldn't deal with right now. He just–, he couldn't–, he cant he can't he can't. He needs to think of something else, anything else.

Hm, think, think, think….was Miranda some kind of doctor, then? Norm told him that humans had those, people who specialised in the human body. Unfortunately none of them stayed behind on Pandora, so they were just going at it blind when it came to broken bones or sickness.

She stepped back into the room, tray in hand. He squeezed his eyes shut as she approached. He heard something clink soft against the table beside the bed, as well as some sort of spritzing? "Good morning, BoBo." She said, and that was weird because she knew his name. Was BoBo some kind of synonym for prisoner? Kidnapee? He didn't know. But she said it like she was genuinely happy.

"Good morning to you too, Spider."

He might've flinched at hearing his name, who knows?

"I have a tour planned today," she continued, ignoring his silence, "so we'll need to eat fast. I--I know you might be uncomfortable eating with others, so you can just eat in here or your own room." She smiles.

He flicks his gaze upwards. She's looking at him, holding something towards him. He only looks at her with suspicion. A few moments pass and she sighs. She brings it to her lips, takes a bite, and pushes it towards him. "See? Safe."

He gingerly took the food from her hand. It was brown and flaky, in a sort of crescent shape. It was cut open in the middle, filled with some sort of cream and fruit. It smelled great, yes, and it looked good, but he knew better than to trust anything that was given to him so freely. He was told stories where humans tried to poison their food and water.

But he supposed he had no choice.

__________

Now I'm not sure on the name so its only Parker Institute for now. This fic introduces a new version of the Recom program as well as a rival company to the RDA!!

They're coming in the next chapter; dw, you will get more info my friends. For now, know that the company is called HRI. <33

#spider socorro #miles spider socorro #miles socorro #avatar rda #avatar twow #avatar oc #avatar fanfiction #avatar spider

42 notes · View notes

yukidragon · 11 months

Note

Okay, another question. What if, Jack chose to try to distance MC and the former coworker/Actor but they end up talking to them about Sunny Day Jack and his past (After the Mc sees some evidence of them knowing about the show) What would happen when Jack finds out? How bad would the reprocussions be?

Hmm... I imagine it would probably be affected by how secure Jack feels in his relationship with MC and what they want to do with the information about his former identity. I did touch on the idea of how Jack might react to MC investigating his past here, here, and here, so I imagine that would apply to this situation as well.

It also probably would depend on the person giving the information and how they felt about Joseph. After all... I imagine it would hit Jack differently if the person was badmouthing Joseph... or calling him a good man.

Really, it might shock Jack to know that people who used to know him as Joseph remember him as a good person. I mean, he acts like the person he used to be wasn't clean. Is it because he didn't feel loved, or did he do something to warrant the feeling that he wasn't clean? Did he have a secret life he kept from even his friends back then that left him feeling dirty? Perhaps... an addiction to drugs? Dirty deals behind the scenes?

There's so much we don't know about what happened behind the scenes of the SunnyTime Crew Show, or the people who worked on it. At this point, we're left to speculate wildly based off the few clues we have.

I mean, heck, I'm still trying to hammer down details for Sunshine in Hell myself. There are just so many possibilities, and as you might have noticed from how many headcanon rambles I have in the tag, I have a lot of different ideas about the series. New teasers and different perspectives the others have come up with in the fandom have left me waffling on how exactly things went down at Lambswork.

I've long since accepted that my story is going to be an AU from the game's canon and that my headcanons have some divergence already with obviously even more to come, but it's still intimidating coming up with something that is no doubt going to be wildly off script from what'll be in the game. A part of me wants to wait and see for more info, but another part of me doesn't want to leave people waiting too long for the full story.

I'm starting to get off topic, sorry about that. But the point I'm trying to make is that a lot of it comes down to what happened during Joseph's time at Lambswork. How did he die? Who did it? Who was Joseph close to at that time? What did people think about him verses the character he portrayed? Who did he dislike or vice-versa? Why does he think of himself as unclean?

The best way to figure out how Jack might react is considering the answers to these questions for your own fic, I think. Until the game comes out and we get to see the full story, we're left to make up our own headcanons about what happened at Lambswork.

Sorry if I wasn't able to give a more concrete answer, but this is definitely a part of the story that's a big mystery, so it's hard to pin down what Jack might do or how far he'll go when it comes to his past. Only SnaccPop Studios knows for sure at this point.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #sdj #swwsdj #Headcanon Ramblings #Ask

23 notes · View notes

what-immortal-hand-or-eye · 1 year

Note

So I had a question in relation to the Rem analysis. Was the Rem from trimax a better parent compared to the other two? I'm not like super well versed in the canon but I think she was the least evangelical and was a bit more hands on in regards to what made Vash a pacifist.

mmmmmmmm (sounds of indecision) I think that's really hard to say, especially since Stampede isn't finished yet, and Tesla didn't happen in the 98 version. I think that all 3 iterations of Rem have their strengths and weaknesses, and trying to figure out which one was the "better parent" doesn't seem like the most productive question. While each version is Rem, they're all very different, and should each be analyzed based on their specific situation.

I personally like Maximum's characterization of Rem the best, because I feel like we have the most to work with on a character level. I want to reread the chapters where she appears because there's definitely a lot going on with her, and I'd want to do a full in-depth analysis beyond "here's my spicy Trigun take".

Same with the Evangelical stuff, since it only shows up in the last episode of Stampede, and Stampede is doing a LOT with its Christian theming. More Rem analysis to come, I guess, but I'll need a minute.

#trigun meta #rem saverem

8 notes · View notes

goldeneyedgirl · 1 year

Note

flattering ask time: baby-verse is an obssession. i love how you put these two totally non-parents weirdos as such a childcare team. like, jasper is fucking frozen because his son - who he feeds, baths, put in bed, play with and cuddles - called him...daddy. i just know parenthood hit him hard with that one.

damage alice is another obssession. as a neurodivergent person myself, it's so funny to me that we both have very similar "episodes".

now the questions about both of these fics: would you say that jasper is more of a warm/soft parent or the emotional distant parent who, at the same time, is always there for his son (since you already told here he is, in fact, a good dad). and, for damage alice, are you going with opportunist cullens who see alice as an experiment or something to be saved because they need to prove to god that they are good people and stuff, or with nice cullens who just want to take care of this little girl and give her a home?

(now, english isn't my first language, so excuse me if there are any mistakes ❤)

I am SO flattered that baby-verse seems to be so loved because Alice and Jasper are, like, the most pro-choice of the Cullens (as a side note, I think Emmett is also pro-choice because he saw first-hand what large families stuck in poverty went through.) So the idea of them juggling a dependent life is kind of insanity. But Alice is a perfectionist, and Jasper is both devoted to Alice and hugely overprotective, so they would figure out something that worked.

For Jasper's parenting style, it's different depending on the angle you look at it from. Jasper is very, very quietly involved. He is incredibly warm with Oliver, and very emotionally available for him throughout his life, but as Oliver gets older (especially once he's in his teens and young adult years), he realizes just how little he knows about his father. Alice also knows that Jasper is an equal parent to her - he knows Oliver's teachers' names, his favourite movie, allergies, crush etc. But to anyone on the outside, it would very much look like Alice was the primary caregiver - even Emmett gives him some hell for letting Alice do a lot of the heavy lifting. Jasper does this intentionally, as a protective thing, as a way to conceal his own vulnerabilities. It also helps when Oliver is just too old to convincingly look like their kid and becomes a cousin or a younger sibling to outsiders. As an adult, Oliver would say that his father is very mysterious to everyone but Alice, but that Jasper was a very good father (much to Jasper's relief. He has a LOT of anxiety over the idea of a 'good' father.)

I started Damaged Alice years ago before I realized and was diagnosed as neurodivergent and it's eye-opening how many behaviours I incorporated that imply Alice is ND. I hate the way that the transformation makes vampires 'perfect' - it's so boring and ableist. Give me Esme with OCD and anxiety, and Emmett with bear-attack scars, and Rosalie who has to wait for her physical wounds to heal and ugh. There is nothing thrilling about straight, white, Mormon neurotypical people.

In Damaged Alice, the Cullens kind of fall in between both categories. There was a plot point that Alice was sent to find the Cullens by the Groundskeeper (who heard about them from Alice and her visions), because they would protect her. There is a letter to explain the situation - I don't know whether I will keep that, honestly, because I like the idea of Alice being a mysterious figure.

But when Alice does arrive and is clearly not NT, the Cullens take her in for protection because they genuinely care about this poor girl's welfare (you can argue that their sentiment is apart of their Good Christian Family act but Carlisle's faith has shaped so much of who he is and how he approaches his family and vampirism, that it's impossible to split the two). At that point, she definitely functions as someone much younger and her newborn state has left her with a lot of feral behaviours and impulse control (there's a temper tantrum in a shopping mall because she wants a pet rabbit).

As time moves on, it's more and more clear that the Cullens have put her in a box because they don't expect her condition to change, when the venom is healing the damage to her brain - it's just a very, very slow process. Even after Jasper arrives and Alice latches onto him and improvement is made, the Cullens still resist letting her evolve and mature. They really expect her to stay childlike and dependent on them. Carlisle has an invested interest in her mental state, being a doctor, and Esme likes having someone she can dote on like a child.

And a lot of Alice's ND behaviours - lack of eye-contact, going non-verbal, meltdowns - are things that the Cullens try to cure her of; and they never really understand that Alice is dealing with excess sensory input because of her visions. A lot of her meltdowns are because of visions (especially when she sees Jasper fighting in the South). And her family really don't understand that. But no family is perfect (especially not families with ND individuals), and Alice and Jasper understand each other here (and in all my fics, lets be real).

Thank you so much for your ask, and your English is perfect <3

#anon #my fic: damaged alice #my fic: baby-verse #jasper is a good dad but oliver doesn't even known the name maria until he's in high school #he legitimately thinks jasper's scars are from the civil war #jasper goes into overprotective superdrive

8 notes · View notes

angevinyaoiz · 10 months

Note

Love the designs in the new comic! How would Richard's later years look like in the AU?

I actually haven't thought about how the boys would look like or what their lives would be outside of my Humorously Recreating Historical events--especially since the timeline is very compressed so everyone is basically speedrunning 30-40 years of Events in like 1-2 teenage summers lol. I wrote a lot of thoughts below (also going into overthinking of How Burger King Universe even works), TLDR the binary is he'd either be a Dead Teen who rocked out a little too hard and made the wrong random person mad or he'll grow up and become a completely normal guy with no relation or connection at all to the historical Richard the lionheart aside from that tumultuous period, but to do so one has to exit the story I make in my head hahaah

Burger King Edgyverse : In this verse it would prob sort of be one of those really edgy teen narratives that follow the Richard timeline of he goes to the crusade concert, has massive interpersonal drama stemming from the 10000 personal and familial issues that escalates and catastrophizes all the relationships, goes home, tries to fix things, continues to have massive drama, maybe comes close to fixing it but then ends up dying really randomly out of some weird karma situation IDK maybe it's like the legend where some kid who he forgot about HATES him and then idk hit him with their car or smth on Châlus street while he's busy beefing. And then everyone is finally like damn.....he was a hot mess but he did some cool stuff so now we are all going to watch his videos and think Abt his life from another angle recontextualized and we now think he was cool now (PR internet movement gets built up. ). idk I'm a bitch who loves weirdly anticlimactic tragedy so that's one universe.

Kind of is my processing and sticking to the main points of the historical Richard life which always struck me as very Dramatic and almost cyclical, which Is very fun for me. Idk there is something very "cursed" about all the family members and their ends and relationships so following up with that (in a more modern sensibility way) is fun to me.

ALTERNATIVELY:

I also thought about...what if characters in the Bk universe aren't cursed to that eternal return...idk. I had a funny thought earlier like that Geoffrey in BK universe doesn't die, he just becomes self-aware of and chooses to exit bc he's tired of the bullshit hahaa (tv equivalent of actor having to leave the show). In my mind, for the Narrative, some people do have to die, namely in my mind Junior does die in BK universe and shifts the mood from haha sillie goofy conflict to more strained and bitter. After all it IS an AU. Maybe BK Richard can leave being "Richard" timeline behind and be just a guy in an unrelated story who grows up past the predetermined historical event timeline parallels and can be a normal person with average life sort of thing. But that's beyond my scope since I'm mostly interested and focused on reinterpreting specific dynamics in that timeline, and deviating too much is when characters feel less AU and more distant and become different People to me (which would be the point...the historical figure must die for a person to live? Idk.

I know this feels like a weird distinction to make, and prob plenty of ppl probably see my delusions and think it's ALREADY so deviant but its more internal like in my mind I like having specific connections to historical stuff even if it's a weird tangled thread heheh. In general though, all is in good fun.....it's late so I may write later so apologies if this makes no sense at all but thanks for reading this far if u got it hahaah

#Long post #Under readmore #Burger king AU

2 notes · View notes

soulsxng · 11 months

Note

10 and 18 for the mun meme! (fatestouch)

@fatestouch | It's a (belated) Munday | No longer accepting!

10. Would you be friends with your muse if they were real?

Some of them yeah, for sure! Out of the main muses, I would say that JJ, Orin, Io, Aro, maybe Eleare and Alsi, Zi, Aile, Ezra, Nirbhi, and Zebi! There are obviously some that I wish I could say I would be friends with, but I know for a fact that they'd open their mouth or do something stupid ONE TIME, and I would be turning and walking off in the other direction while shaking my head.

But also like...all of them but maybe Orin, Aile, Nirbhi, and Zeqyabin are at least a little too crazy at times, so maybe not. Maybe I should just say that I would be friends with those four. Yknow, Like a sane person.

18. Are there any AU's you'd want to explore but haven't yet?

I can't think of any verses that I've wanted to do, but never have, actually! Maybe because it's a little hard for me to get into actual AU's (not just verses that are like...different timeline stuff) at first? Trying to figure out how to translate my muses into different situations without making them a completely different person is something that takes me a little while, and just throwing them into something randomly isn't something I like to do, because I'll inevitably think of something later and want to change it.

But...I'm always up for more royalty AU stuff. I've been watching/reading Os.hi n.o k.o on and off lately too, so a celebrity AU might be kind of fun? Especially since there is a minor supernatural/fantasy element to the plot as well (that I won't go into, because I don't wanna spoil anything for those that are planning to watch/read and haven't yet), and I'll be the first to admit that I have a few muses that I really struggle with making fully human. (Here's looking at you, Ber and Lera-boo. And you Baet, you stubborn psycho god) Even with that though, I think I would only want like...the slightest dash of fantasy to it. I love my magical bs, but sometimes it's refreshing to have to think of normal ways for a person to get out of/deal with a situation.

Plus, celebrity AU's are a good balance of silly/fun, and different types of drama!

#[what is she getting us into now? -ooc-]#(Yeah though AU's are kind of tough for me #I guess it's because I get so attached to main verse stuff that it takes a bit for me to break away from it #and once I do break my mind away from all of that #it sticks to the AU #so I have a difficult time switching back and forth between the two-- it's usually one or the other for a while #because wowee my brain just likes to grab things in a vice grip and eye zoom all over it until I get bored asldfna)

3 notes · View notes

mooregan07 · 11 months

Note

ah yes why care about anything when mother is giving us new music!!!! so thankful ☺️🥰

like keep being distracted by the shadows babes but there is an actual world out there that does get impacted by these things (i’ll assume from your stance you won’t be) and believe it or not the mega superstar has a massive role in it (and the arguments of hypocrisy is that she knows her massive role, has said she wants to use it to be better and better the world, and doesn’t because she don’t wanna lose the breakup)

and yeah the implications of a rich white british man saying he gets off to women of colour being brutalized is no big deal! so right! 🧐

kind of longer post coming in.

hey love! thank you so much for sending in this ask and i totally understand what you’re saying here. also thank you for explaining the hypocrisy thing to me, i do need to get more versed on everyone’s thoughts and theories, and i definitely will.

while i am not a person of color, i do have many close friends who are, and i do truly understand where everyone is coming from. i am lgbtq, a woman, i use she/they pronouns, and i have a lot of greek blood in me, and my grandmother is jewish, and so i do truly know the damage and harm that someone can cause by saying things like what matty says. i’m not trying to defend myself for any comments that someone may have deemed problematic or “distracted by the shadows”. i’m so sorry if this is how i came off. let me just take some time and explain myself a little farther, as it seems i need to do.

i just really don’t like to jump to conclusions about celebrities because we don’t know them personally, and we don’t know what they are truly like. i do realize that satire or not, there are a lot of things that matty has said that are very, VERY wrong and should be talked about and critiqued. however, again, we don’t know who taylor is behind closed doors. it’s hard to cope with and hard to hear, and i’ve been very anti super stans since the beginning because people get so heartbroken over celebrities coming out to be more problematic. i would like taylor to make an official statement, and i have educated myself more on the issues with matty.

as i saïd in my earlier post, i wasn’t super sure about everything, and i still a teenager and i’m learning about politics and how to be/how to live. i’m so very sorry if my comments hurt anyone, that was not AT ALL the intention. i was just hoping that it could help some swifties who are very upset about this to find some hope in the situation.

also, i am very very aware that influencers/celebrities and even mega stars like swift majorly contribute to a lot of the problems we have in the US and all over the world right now. i just really try not to focus on the bad part and focus on the good because the bad really upsets me. i’m sorry if i came off as a defender for different issues. i’m very optimistic person and i try to find something that can possibly make a situation less anxiety inducing or upsetting for people and so once again, i was trying to spread some hope.

i do believe matty saying he watches pornographic material of women of color getting brutalized is HORRIBLE, and should not be condoned or said to be okay. i didn’t know he said that. i’m sorry i neglected this. i really want to emphasize that i do not neglect the pure disgusting things that matty has said in the past, i was just unaware and i have learned more now.

the idea of separating the art from the artist is very important to me for many reasons, one is because we never know what celebrities will do, and two, no one is perfect. public figures shouldn’t be glorified to the extent that we think they’re perfect/surprised that they get things wrong. so, i was still super excited about taylor’s new songs and i’m really pumped to see what she does next. taylor is still human and she gets it wrong sometimes, so i love her music but i don’t idolize her.

i would like to sincerely apologize for my ignorance and taking to the internet to say something that i do understand fully is controversial and is seen as very problematic for to some people. i just wanted to spread my feeling of hope that i had, because i seriously think taylor is a good person. i love taylor so very much that i don’t want to believe that she would condone matty’s behavior nor support it or tolerate it. i just wanted to hope that he’s a better person. maybe i’m in the wrong. once again i’m sorry, and i will educate myself better on this topic.

however, i just wanted to let everyone know that shaming people over opinons and thoughts, especially people who said explicitly that they are not super well educated on the topic and just wanted to share their opinion is not cool. taylor promotes kindness, and so called swifties who do not follow this are not true swifties. i know you were just trying to share your opinion, anon, but i do believe it could have been done in a much kinder way. i’m a huge believer in kind criticism, and so it would be much appreciated that you wouldn’t assume that i’m not impacted by the things matty says, and that i really don’t understand it. i do now, and i did not appreciate how harsh your criticism came off. i’m really just trying to promote hope and love and respect for peoples privacy. i hope you understand. i’m a very empathic, anxious, and emotional person, and so this did hurt me a little bit to be basically called ignorante. however, i truly do understands where you’re coming from.

nonetheless, thanks for sharing, anon.

#matty and taylor #taylor swift #matty healy

3 notes · View notes

violetsiren90 · 1 month

Note

I forgot what we talked about.. I might have had to read our message again before. Since it's been a while since we last had a conversation.

But, then again, I've also been preoccupied with my own things so it's not like I remembered. At least until now. I've been sidetracked lately.

Anyway.

I actually do have obsessive compulsive disorder, "both" versions, the actual diagnoses and the perfectionistic diagnoses that people would think is OCD. I'm organized, intrusive thoughts, many of those signs... You know what I mean since you also have the condition too, so I may not have to waste time explaining something you already experience.

And I do have auditory processing disorder... I'm just considering that associated with the Asperger's. Which is a sign, a symptom, whatever it is considered as. And this is just a basic explanation. There are sites that have more in depth explanations if you've wanted to learn more.

"Autistic people with auditory processing disorders can hear, but they have difficulty making sense out of—or perceiving—what they hear."

"People with autism often experience auditory processing difficulties - such as in understanding speech when there is a lot of background noise, finding it hard to listen with many people talking at the same time, and focusing on verbal instructions."

So that definitely explains a lot about me, especially whenever I'd try communicating with someone. Since I'd mishear words and phrases.

So many different dynamics could happen with characters from their appearance, personalities, just about anything and everything can be interesting amongst characters in one way or another. In my opinion.

That's the whole reason for creative projects! Art, reading, writing.. All these creative projects help express yourself for whatever reason that you have. To use your own dreams and fantasies to build worlds, even to self heal for whatever reason too. My mind's really scattered today.

Though you have to be careful about writing a character "too similar" to yourself because most people complain, claiming those characters are too Mary Sue for people to enjoy. But I think it depends on a lot of these situations. And also well written any character might be. Since I might be able to accept certain types of Mary Sue characters when it could be a well written character. I know that I've already said this.

But, at the same time, writing these characters could help you with a part of yourself in some way.. Self love, self healing, self reflection are some ways to figure yourself out. Same with traumatic experiences.

I wasn't sure if I upset you. Since I know certain topics would actually upset some people, you never know who might get upset about what topics anymore. Which is understandable with certain topics though.

And complex... That's complex. Complicated. Angering for people like me. I always have a lot of really mixed feelings about these situations.

I hate relying on people yet I have to rely on people for a lot of things I could have easily gotten myself. Well.. If it wasn't on the higher selves. Like who has to always have everything on the high shelves? Like just who the fuck even does that?! It's the reason why I hate taller people.

Not just socks, but any clothing (or linen) for me. I hate the top loader washing machines. I have literally had to climb in just for one piece of clothing, I almost fall in just to get my clothes. Which reminds me... In a way. My ankle is mostly healed after spraining it again last week. It's because I fell down the stairs bringing groceries in my house. If you're thinking Jimin or even Namjoon is clumsy, I'm clumsier than they are.

Yes! Daechwita and Haegeum verses having a modern twist could be, well, complex stories in a good way if written right for people to read.

And that's what I thought.. I do like the Jack persona. And, in a way, it could be possible to have him in the same Agust D crime universe - if you can figure out those details. But, at the same time, Jack seems a bit more towards psychological crime thriller. Though Jack having an arsonic - is that even a word? I know arsenic is. - type of murderer for that persona. Not surprising because of the Arson video giving those vibes for an arson person, murder, while also getting sociopath crime vibes at the same time. So crimes stories could happen for those two though, not sure about the other five guys yet. I'll have to figure it out before writing any crime story for them, unless I have any inspiration.

Exactly! That's how I am.. I enjoy the duality of balancing these things - like sins and virtues - as a "yin and yang" concept for characters in a way that actually makes since to people. Other than myself. And like I said... I could easily imagine everyone of the guys being associated to more than one sin and virtue in some way or another. Yoongi's really a man who I could imagine as multiple sins and virtues, well, everyone's like that to me. But that's besides that point. Like all of the guys really are diligent when it comes to their work, I'm not saying that. But then when it comes to the actual sin of Sloth, Yoongi was the only one who did fit that description, in the apathetic and laziness definition of that term. I'm stuck on the other sins and virtues. Like Pride. Obviously all of them are prideful in their own ways (mainly in a good way, not bad) from that I've noticed. But I keep thinking back towards Jin, Namjoon and even Jungkook to some extent. Not sure why. Usually I've tended to see Jin or Namjoon as the stereotypical Pride when people writing the sins. Which makes sense in some way. Jin has his strong feelings about self love, self acceptance, self confidence which can represent as the vanity aspects to Pride while also actually being Humility in the same definition. And I know people tend to associate Namjoon with a sin like Pride, just because he's the 'leader' of BTS since Pride is really the deadliest sin out of all seven sins too. Then there's Envy, Gluttony, Greed, Lust, Pride (unless I might have already talked myself into that sin?) and Wrath. I tend to overthink things if you haven't noticed yet. I have to admit that I'm having some difficulty with Wrath just because I keep trying to think who's the most attractive scary angry man, even though I should figure this out based on personality rather than those appearances. So these details might take me a while to figure out.

Well.. It was the 9th here until two hours ago. But I still count it. Since his birthday is on the 9th, time zones are just different for everyone.

Sorry that it's been a long time between answers from me, I've been working with a very low personal battery, so I will try to do better as far as response time goes! 💜

Ah! Okay! That's interesting. I have a cousin who has an auditory processing disorder, so I'm a little aware for what that's like. Thank you for sharing that with me. I see what you mean with the OCD. Mine mostly affects me in the form of intrusive thoughts and ruminations. It's hard because no one can see these on the outside, but the are so so draining. I've been struggling with rumination so much recently and it just takes everything out of me. I basically went the last two weeks without doing anything in my spare time due to just not having the energy.

I think there should be a lot of freedom of expression in art. If you are writing something for yourself, or to fill a need for a community you are part of, I don't think making an OC or even a reader-insert character that is very specific should be something that the author worries about as far as reception goes. I think as far as it's stated straightforwardly in the content warnings or description that a reader-insert character is depicted as carrying certain specific traits, it gives readers the freedom to engage with prior knowledge. If you want to make a character that's basically you to a T, I say go for it!

You absolutely did not upset me! I don't mind discussing those sorts of things, but thank you for being so thoughtful.

Yes, as a fiercely independent person myself, I can understand that anger and pain at having to rely on others to a great degree. And you're right, I don't think there is a great deal of consideration in society about keeping things too high as being inaccessible. The bottom line is that there is a fairly large group of people who may have difficulty reaching highly placed things, especially heavier ones - like those confined to wheelchairs, the elderly, the physically disabled, and little people. My best friend has one arm, and she struggles to safely access large items that are placed too high. I think more thought should be put into this kind of accessibility.

Jack as an arson would be super creepy because of the MV (already on the creepier side!) - you certainly wouldn't be at a loss for banner content for a fic like that!

I think you are really onto something with going in Jin's favor as opposed to Joon's with the pride thing. Jin is a perfect example of how self love could corrupt into self-worship without the balance of humility. With Namjoon I see more of the Envy vs. Kindness (re: "life is a bowl of soup and I'm a fork" lol). I feel like at his lowest I could see a lot of self-pity and coveting there. And at his healthiest, who in the world is more the embodiment of kindness than Kim Namjoon?

HAHAHA you are SO REAL for struggling with wanting to slap Wrath on the Tannie who would be the hottest for their rage. 😵🔥 If you're going for accuracy, maybe try to see which guy leans into the opposing virtue of patience the most? I know Jungkook has had to build his patience over the years. (he would also be super duper hot as wrath?? - I mean, wut? Nothing..👀)

I'm so invested in the Seven Deadly Sins world you've got going!! Do you know what context you would want to pursue it in? Like, a fantasy AU, or a real-world embodiment? Literal (demons and angels), or gods, or more figurative representations? AHHH. So many possibilities!! Like I said, friend, I'm invested! Can't wait to see where you take this!!

I hope this answer finds you well, and hopefully I can be much quicker on answering your future asks! 😊💕

#anon asks #mermail💌

0 notes

reviews-by-shelby · 1 year

Text

Clap When You Land by Elizabeth Acevedo

Clap When You Land is a young adult novel written in verse by Elizabeth Acevedo. It first introduces the reader to Camino Rios, a teenager living in the Dominican Republic who is awaiting the return of her father. He lives in New York City but flies over to spend the summer with her and Tia Solana, the sister of her deceased mother. Camino’s world is shattered when she arrives at the airport to find out that her father’s plane has crashed into the Atlantic Ocean and there were no survivors. As she and her aunt try to figure out how to move on from the tragedy, emotionally and financially, she learns a dark secret: that her father had a secret second family, which includes a daughter named Yahaira who is the same age. As the girls deal with the death of their beloved father, they are forced to reflect on who the man truly was. They also have the chance to connect with each other and share the hurt they both feel.

This book reminded me how important it is to be around others who understand your grief when you lose someone important. When I lost my grandfather while I was in high school, I felt like my pain was understood when I was with my family and cousins. This happened when Camino and Yahaira were finally able to meet after learning about each other. While there was a lot of pain that they had to sort through first, due to the fact that their father kept them a secret from one another for so long, they were able to form a meaningful relationship that allowed them to find solace in their grief. This book also deals with the subject of infidelity and the effects it can have on others, not just the people who are committing it. It was kept secret from Camino and Yahaira, but Tia Solana and Yahaira’s mother were aware of it all along. I have always felt that infidelity of any kind is inexcusable and should not be tolerated, but the older women made it clear that they were silent about it because they did not want it to affect the girls. This makes sense, and I can see where they’re coming from, but I cannot imagine myself being involved in a similar situation. Since I don’t have an experience like this, that is possibly why I feel so strongly against it, but I may feel differently if I found myself in Yahaira’s mother’s place. She knew her husband had a second wife and daughter, but since she had a daughter of her own, she didn’t want Yahaira’s world to shatter because of her father’s actions. Her mother’s choice seems like it would be hard to follow through with, but I admire her for her strength.

This novel also addressed an idea that I feel strongly about, which is that family needs to support each other. It took a while for them to get there, but Yahaira and Camino eventually formed a sisterly bond in the face of tragedy. It took some more time for Yahaira’s mother to come face-to-face with her step daughter, but she eventually came around and offered support for Camino when she saw that she was going through a tough situation in the Dominican Republic. While they were reluctant to become a family, the bond was still there and the story of how it came about was sad and beautiful. This book is truly a work of art in my eyes. Acevedo’s writing is beautiful and poetic, and she describes things in a way that I would never think about. At the beginning she even makes mud sound pretty, by writing “& mud got a mind of its own. Wants to enwrap your penny loafers, hug on your uniform skirt. Press kisses to your knees and make you slip down to meet it. ‘Don’t let it stain you,’ Tia’s always said. But can’t she see? This place we’re from already has it prints on me.”

After seeing that we were required to read a novel in verse, I did a Google search to see what I could find since I wasn’t familiar with this form of writing. It has been a very long time since I’ve read anything like this. I found a reading blog with a good post filled with recommendations for young adult novels written in verse. This book, as well as another one written by Acevedo called The Poet X, were included on the list. I decided to choose this one because I had heard of it when it was first published, and even then I thought it sounded intriguing. I’m glad I gave it a chance because it gave me a reading experience filled with beautiful language, loss, grief, and the journey of dealing with these emotions. I will definitely be checking out this author’s other works. I give this book five out of five stars.

Acevedo, E. (2020). Clap When You Land. Quill Tree Books.

#yabooks

0 notes

erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Text

Not Your Charity Case

prompt: Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical frat boy?

word count: 6.2k

warnings: minor violence, language, deaf!harry, smutttt

other: when Harry is talking to Y/N or any other characters - it is to be noted that he is signing. When Y/N talks to Harry - she is also always signing

Let me know if you’d want to see anything else from this verse:)

+++

You were rushed - you really shouldn’t stop at the local coffee shop for a sugary, delicious mocha chip frappuccino.

Despite what people say, professors are much more lax and carefree in college.

It was about two weeks into the new semester, - your third here- and the seasons were changing - becoming autumn.

Chilled breezes, falling leaves, and vivid colors of nature made you happy.

When you arrive in line, there are two people ahead of you. A girl currently in front of the cashier and a tall male with a red and black flannel on behind her- typing away on his phone.

When she moves to the left, the broad man steps forward. His snapback facing backwards, brown curls dancing around his neck. You can’t help but notice how tall and lean he is, shoulders broad and straight.

You definitely haven’t seen him before on campus. You’d remember.

From what you can see, he shows the young girl behind the counter the screen of his phone without saying anything at all.

The raven-haired girl’s face pinches in annoyance. “We don’t accept orders like that. You need to tell me what you want.”

You’re a little surprised by both the rude cashier but also the man who doesn’t respond right away.

He attempts to show her his phone again but she shakes her head - annoyed.

You become interested in the situation when I watch him sign, a few gestures before pointing to his ears. In the most obvious form of saying “I can’t hear.”

The clueless girl gives him a blank look, “Listen, there’s a line. I don’t have time for this.”

You hoped you weren’t overstepping your boundaries when you slide up next to him, tapping him on his shoulder to get his attention.

It is a bit startling how gorgeous the boy is. He was tanned with bright green-eyes and a defined jawline that was currently clenched in frustration.

You sign, “What are you trying to order?”

He studies you for a second with hesitance before his long slim fingers begin to move, slowly as if he thinks you may be inexperienced in the form of language.

He replies, “Large coffee with a little cream and two sugars.”

You squeeze in front of him, “It is not only rude but illegal to not serve based on disabilities. Refusing an order from a deaf person isn’t moral or acceptable.”

The girl has enough decency to mumble an apology and turned bright pink, “Sorry, he doesn’t look deaf. “You roll your eyes - how can you tell that someone is deaf based on solely appearance? This girls a fucking idiot, you think.

You repeat his order to her, along with yours - sliding your debit card towards her and give her your name for the order.

The man trails behind you to the small waiting area. “Thank you,” he signs simply. You nod and return the pleasantry. The. hand him his steaming hot coffee.

“Thank you again. I’m going to be late to class, so I have to go,” he tells me, seeming a little out of place signing with a stranger.

“Go ahead, I’ll see you around.” It was the first time in a long time you’ve signed to anyone outside your family.

+++

Sipping your drink as you are only five minutes late and the class hasn’t even started yet. The man you just helped was sat in the back of the classroom, unloading his laptop.

With a little bravery, you wriggle your way through and plop into the wooden chair easily. Letting your backpack fall to the ground. Curly looks over at you with a frown, he signs, “Why are you sitting next to me?”

You blush, “I don’t know? Thought it’d be good to have someone to talk to.”

His hands are tense as he replies, “I’m not a charity case, so you can leave me alone.”

“Never said you were,” you huff when you tell him. Not appreciating how rude he was being. Signing had its own tones and expressions so to speak. For example, when someone is happy their signs and movements are different than when they’re sad or frustrated.

Harry seems to be the latter. You wrestle out your laptop to the PowerPoint that was going to be discussed today in class. You noticed Harry stared very intently at the professor to read his lips and expression.

You was surprised he didn’t have an interpreter with him but you’re sure he got special accommodations elsewhere. Even though that was absolutely none of your business.

His shoulders are tensed and he makes sure your arms don’t brush like you have cooties for the entire two hours. The nameless boy is up and out of his seat as soon as the professor shuts off the projector and turns on the lights - signaling class to be over.

Well fuck him then.

***

You don’t make the mistake to sit next him again. But that doesn’t mean you could ogle his strong muscular back and big hands.

It wasn’t your place to care but you felt twinges in your tummy when you noticed him struggling to keep up with the fast-speed class on certain days.

You were in the large, rustic library that smelled of old books and damp wallpaper. It was dead silent as people furiously studied or worked on papers due.

As you paced the shelves, you could not find the book you needed for your American Literature class. Fuck the Dewey Decimal System.

Part-time uni students probably just stuffed returned books in any open space they saw fit. But you need this book in particular, a discussion board post due by midnight and it was currently eight-thirty. They had ran out of copies at the on-campus bookstore.

After a valiant effort, you trudge up to the checkout counter. A little sign reads, “ring me if no ones here!”

You impatiently ring the silver bell. But no one comes. You give whoever is working a minute or two but nothing. Another ring it is.

Silence. No one. Of fucking course, luck is not on your side tonight.

You dramatically clunk your head onto the high counter top in front of you - groaning at the fact you may fail the assignment.

A tentative pat on your shoulder makes you snap your head up. To see the boy you’ve been constantly avoiding standing behind the checkout desk.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He had a name-tag on - Harry. He honestly looked a bit out of place. Harry appeared to be a frat boy. He was still had a boyish air about him but an intensity that was unmatchable.

He didn’t look like he would work in the library. He looked like...well he looked like he would be a beer pong referee or something.

You couldn’t see below his torso but he had a plain black snapback on and a vintage Elton John concert tee. A cross necklace dangling over the worn shirt.

You smile, embarrassed, but reply, “Just being dramatic. I can’t find a book and I was waiting here.”

There’s mirth in his eyes when he points to the bell,”Did you ring the bell?”

Your brows furrow, “I did.”

“Well I can’t hear it, I’m deaf,” he deadpans with a straight face and a dry sense of humor.

You roll your eyes, laughing nervously, “I didn’t know you were working!”

“What do you need?”

He helps you locate the book in two minutes flat before checking you out and you rushing home to finish the homework.

You felt bad ignoring your little sister’s FaceTime calls but you promised to call her back tomorrow.

***

Though once again, you hadn’t interacted with Harry since last week - you constantly found yourself studying his stoic profile or fast moving fingers.

You would never befriend Harry because you feel bad for him - like he presumed. You enjoyed American Sign Language and it actually made you feel back at home.

You’re little sister was born completely deaf. She was much younger than you - eight years old. Fifteen years apart to be exact. You learned the language along with her and your parents.

When you were at home and your sister was there - you guys tried to only sign so she didn’t feel left out. So Harry felt like home - a little despite his completely off-putting demeanor. It made you a little bit more persistent than with any other frat boy.

***

The bulletin board in your advisor’s office caught your eyes. None of the little tabs ripped off in interest.

‘Student with ASL experience and above a 3.5 GPA needed for tutoring sessions - twice weekly. $16 dollars an hour.’

After your meeting, you tugged the little scrap of paper off and tuck it into your pocket. You couldn’t know for sure if it was Harry but you didn’t know of any other deaf students in the program.

You say ‘fuck it’ and type out an email to the advisor of academic affairs and accommodations to throw your hat in the ring.

***

You don’t hear back for three days - nearly forgetting about it in the mean time. Your eyes scan quickly over the email to grant you the position. They include contact information for no other than Harry Styles.

After psyching yourself out a little and a few paces across your kitchen tiles - you text him.

Hey! I’m your new assigned tutor. Would you like to set up a time and place? As well as what kind of help you’re looking for.

The reply text comes shortly after

Hello, thank you very much. I am just in need of hearing ears. I am deaf and have a hard time keeping up with the my professor. I have begun recording the lectures in hope that you can sign then to me.

Sure thing. That won’t be a problem!

I live in Alpha Sigma on 3rd street. I have my own room. I’d rather not have the tutoring session in public. However, if that makes you uncomfortable - we can figure something out.

You take a minute to debate. You understand why this would be a task too loud for the library and why he’d want privacy. You didn’t feel like I’d be uncomfortable with him.

I saw twice a week so does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work?

Sounds great. Thank you again x

Did he know it was me? Was he expecting it to me?

***

He was definitely not expecting you. You automatically knew that by the way his friendly smile dissipated into a frown when he opened the door for you.

You attempted to look nice today without trying too hard. A loose crop top with the university’s name, a pair of tight black leggings, bulky white socks bunched at your ankles, and white sneakers. Very 80’s.

You try to keep your composure, “Hi Harry, I’m going to be your tutor.”

He slowly nods at you, huffing out a breathe of irritation before inviting you into the frat house.

You’d only been here once or twice for a party so you had no idea what the house actually looked like when there weren’t bodies and booze everywhere.

He’s walking you past a group of boys playing FIFA on the flatscreen in the living room, white claws open everywhere.

“Y/N! Hey babe!” You look over to see Niall - one of your good friends from your part-time job at the bookstore - trotting over to you guys.

The blonde pulls you into an overexcited hug. He reminded you of a cuddly, soft puppy dog most of the time.

“Are you Harry’s little tutor?” Niall coos, leaning over to pinch Harry’s cheek.

Harry- who was observing the conversation, focusing in on our lips, immediately bats his friend away. A small scowl forming on his face.

It automatically turns into a playful brawl where Niall tugs Harry into headlock. But he has no strength on the brunette.

Harry turns out of it quickly and pushes Niall to the ground. He straddles his stomach and begins to jokingly pinch and slap at him.

Niall hisses, “Ouch! You motherfucker! Big oaf!”

Then you don’t know why you find this endearing but Niall signs the word, “uncle” a few times to signal he’s accepted his lost.

The fact that they wrestle so much that Niall learned to sign how to give up made you giggle more than it should.

Harry crawls off of him, running a hand through his messy curls, his face a little flushed.

“I’ll talk to you later!” You tell Niall as your trailing behind Harry up a flight of stairs.

His room is extremely neat. A fluffy navy comfort decorated his bed with a few photos of flowers and nature on his wall. A tidy desk tucked away in the corner that had all of his school work loaded on top of it.

He chooses to sit in his desk chair, motioning for you to perch on his bed. You look at him expectantly when he pulls out the tape recorder and sets it on the surface.

He pulls his laptop into his lap and begins signing, “I need you to transcribe the lecture for me so I can follow it. We can skip through the bits where he is rambling or off topic.”

You nod, letting him know to begin whenever he’s ready. He presses the side button and the recording starts but it super unclear and garbled.

“Did you record this from your seat?” You ask, the professors words nearly inaudible and fuzzy.

“Yes.”

“You need to bring it to the front of the room. Ask Dr. Morrison to lay it on his desk before class. I can’t hear anything but static and mumbles,” You tell him.

He laughs and shakes his head. His movements rough and angry, “Of course its fucked up. I get you as my tutor and then the recorder is shit.”

You glare at him, offended as you haven’t done anything to this boy. “Excuse me? I’ve literally been trying to help since I’ve meet you. What is your fucking issue?”

“I’m not a charity case! I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m not helpless! You’re probably just a silly little girl who took ASL in high school because it was cool and trendy. Go back to focusing on psych.”

“Fuck you, Harry,” Your gestures getting sharper and your face sour, “You know nothing about me so don’t act like you do. I don’t feel bad for you or think that you’re helpless.” You put up a hand and tell him to not talk.

“I was just being nice because I thought you were handsome and at first, seemed friendly. It turns out you’re just like every douchebag frat boy I’ve met. What a disappointment,” You chuckle, swinging your bag on your shoulder and storm out of the room without another look.

***

The cafe was jammed packed - it was Waffle Wednesday. You had said waffles in your tray and were about to plop down on a stool when you hear your name being called.

“C’mere, come sit with us!” He hollers over the commotion of the crowd. Niall.

You’re about to decline when some dude slips behind you and snags the stool. Shit.

A bit unwillingly you slide into the booth next to Niall, cracking open your sparkling water. “Mates, this is Y/N, we work at the store together and she’s Harry’s tutor,” he tells them. “Y/N, this is Liam and Louis.”

“Hello,” you try your best to come off as friendly even though you can feel Harry’s glare on the side of your face. You ended up falling to easy conversation with the boys. Niall has a very limited ASL vocabulary but tries.

The boys are also trying to talk slower and more pronounced so Harry can watch and understand. A couple of times he taps Niall on the wrist to repeat what was going on.

Your phone begins buzzing and you apologize for the interruption. It’s your little sister, Mazie, FaceTiming.

You answer the phone with a frown, signing “Aren’t you suppose to be in school?”

Mazie looks upset, eyes a little watery. She gestures back, “I left early. I’m sick.”

“Are you really sick or where you getting bullied again?” You asks her.

Your sister hesitates before sniffling, “You already know. I hate my school.”

Mazie has had other children bully her for her disability since she started preschool and it as still happening in fourth grade.

“What can I do to help?” You frown, never wanting to see your baby sister cry.

You chat for a few minutes to help her calm down. When the phone call ends, you don’t realize that all the boys were watching you in interest. Harry in particular, keeps his focus on you with a wrinkled forehead.

“My sister’s deaf,” You tell them. The whole time you’ve been sitting with them you’ve been signing and verbally speaking to help everyone be able to be included in the conversation.

“That’s sick!” Louis says, smacking Harry’s arm. “Just like our lad Harry.”

Harry grumbles when Louis shakes him a little. It seems like the boys loved to physically interact with Harry which was endearing.

Harry allows him to for a moment before he flicks his cheek hard and laughs when Louis flinches. The conversation goes back to normal.

***

Harry jogs up to you after your group shares farewells and a few punches. You pointedly ignore him as you trek to the class you two have together so it’s not like he can’t walk this way too.

“Please, wait,” Harry asks. He walks in front of you.

“What do you want?” You huff, keeping my glare firm and directed alley at him.

“I’m sorry. I made the wrong assumption.”

“You made a lot of wrong assumptions. The fact that you think of me so lowly is sad. I’ve been nothing but nice,” You try not to focus on his large palms that curve over the caps of your shoulders.

“I’m not very trusting of people.”

You snort rather unattractively, “No kidding”

“Can we please start over?” He asks, stepping back to give you space. He didn’t realize how close he’d been standing to you until your hair wisps across his nose.

“One more chance, Styles.”

Harry lays a hand on your upper arm and squeeze lightly before signing the simple gesture of ‘thank you.’

***

It turns out Harry is very handsy and physically affectionate. It wasn’t creepy though or something that ever made you feel uncomfortable.

You were still tutoring him but you hung around the frat with Harry nearly everyday. The days you just wanted to lay in bed resulted in a grumpy FaceTime from Harry.

Harry once stated during a tutoring session, “It is easier for me to show how I’m feeling with touch than words. If I ever make you uncomfortable - please tell me and I will stop.”

You smile slyly at his words that sounded more like a question, asking if he can touch you. “I guess I’ll let you feel me up every now in again.”

He giggles and looks down wolfishly - like an entertaining thought is dancing around in his mind.

You tuck your finger under his chin to gaze at you. “In all seriousness, I give you my consent to show your feelings with physical touch. I trust you and know you won’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.”

The curly-haired brunette smiles happily, his hand cupping the side of your neck and brushing over your pulse point.

He hadn’t touched you here before and it seems like it was his first goal to do so once he got permission. You can’t help but take in a deep gasp of air. You prayed he didn’t notice but by the small lift of his lips he did.

The simple touch made a flame of arousal swirl in your lower stomach. You felt like you were about to start sweating.

“Anyways,” You clear your throat and snatch back up the recorder. It now had better quality after Harry listened to you about placement.

***

The frat house was ridiculously full of drunk college students. Everybody on the dance floor was sweaty and sticky with a variety of different substances.

Niall had invited you - so you were searching about for him. Pushing through the crowd and nobody was able to hear you say ‘excuse me.’

You finally found fresh air in the backyard where beer pong and cornhole were set up. Niall was tossing his ball across the table, trying to splash in Liam’s red solo cups.

Harry was sitting on a cushioned patio chair, watching the game commence. Maybe he was a beer pong referee after all.

He looked so fucking good tonight. He had a yellow snapback taming his curls - backwards of course. A black Rage Against the Machine shirt and his signature black skinny jeans. **

You made eye contact and were about to wave when a girl plopped down in the seat across from him.

Awkwardly you turn away, greeting the other boys and taking a seat in a lawn chair to watch them start their third round of the game.

Your eyes keep darting over to Harry who is staring blankly at the girl. She starts stroking his biceps and tracing across the tattoos like they belong to her.

Harry is attempting to let her know he’s not interested. His signs uselessly as she’s staring at his lips and not hands.

You’re moving before you know it, without another thought, you squeeze in between the two - separating them. You dramatically slide into his lap, funnily enough one strong arm wrapping happily around your middle.

The pretty blonde pouts out her lips, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Before you’re able to reply, Harry signs the obvious signal for ‘yes’ to the girl. Then rudely makes the shooing gesture. She’s up with a huff and stomping back towards the house.

Harry turns you sideways on his lap so that you two can see each other’s hands, “You saved me.”

“You’re just such a stud, have to protect you,” You joke - but not really.

He raising his eyebrows and smiles, “You were jealous.” It was a statement not a question.

You blush wildly, avoiding eye contact which you know he hates. He hates anytime you cut off ways of communication.

Harry taps your lips until you look up at him, “it’s really fucking sexy when you are.” A perk of sign language. He could dirty talk just about anywhere and mostly no one would ever know.

His thumb drags on your full bottom lip, signing clumsily with one hand so you had to use context clues to piece it together “Don’t think I forgot when you called me handsome a few months ago.”

“I don’t remember, doesn’t sound like me,” You boldly lie, snickering and nipping at the top of his thumb

His eyes become a shade darker when your teeth meet his skin. He presses his thumb further in until it’s in-between your teeth. The moment is broken when Niall screams, “Styles! You’re up next!”

You and Harry become separated after you spent nearly two hours watching all these drunk boys play beer pong. Harry was ridiculously good at the game and only had to drink two cups from the table.

You had wandered back into the house where the party had died down. There were only a handful of stragglers left but mostly just the fraternity brothers and their close friends.

With a fresh alcoholic seltzer in your hand - you didn’t trust open bottles at parties like this - you gaze at Harry through the back window.

Harry was being jumped by Liam and Niall. He was snarling playfully as Liam toppled them all over into the grass. Niall tries to stand up but Harry’s hand wraps around his ankle and makes him fall right back on his bum with a girlish squeal.

Niall leans over to give Harry a wet-willy but Liam manages to throw a plastic cup directly at Niall’s forehead. Harry and the other boys dissolve in childish giggles. Faces red from laughter and liquor. You feel a smile painted fondly on your lips from watching them.

“Hey, Y/N right?” A voice interrupts from behind.

You spin to face a guy you barely recognize from a previous class you shared. You smile nonetheless, “Hi...”

“Jake, Jake from Social Constructs and Society last semester.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” You smile and allow him to talk your ear off because you struggle to say ‘no.’ He was fine, nothing special, typical business major who thought he was hot shit because his daddy owned a golf course he wanted to take you to.

It was a normal conversation until his voice gets lower as if he’s trying to be more seductive, “Want to head to a room with me?” He nods towards the staircase.

You chuckle in disbelief at his bold and forward question. “No thank you, I’m good.” You really had eyes for one person right now and he was currently cussing out Niall in sign language in the backyard before tackling him once again to the ground.

“C’mon, I can really show you a good time,” He persuades persistently, stepping into your space - causing your nervousness to spike.

“I said - no thank you,”You bite out, starting to feel scared when he blocks your way out of the kitchen and presses himself against you and the counter.

“You’re really something gorgeous, you know?” He asks, ignoring my struggles to get away from him.

“Stop touching me!” You scream, hoping Niall or one of the boys would hear your wail. He puts a hand up to your mouth to muffle you but that only results in you biting him.

“Fucking bitch!” He cries out, pulling his hand back and winding up to either punch or slap you right in the face. You prepare for the impact.

Then in a blink off an eye, it becomes a blur, a muscular figure is crashing into Jake with full force and knocking him straight into the linoleum floor with a loud crash.

It’s Harry. Broad shoulders and thick but lean tattooed biceps. He’s standing over the harasser and drops on top of him. It shouldn’t look as graceful and tactful as it does.

You’d never seen anything like this from Harry before. Once you really got to know him - he was a gentle giant who liked romantic comedies, soft blankets, and vanilla cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles.

Harry’s fist is repeatedly connecting with the dark-haired boy’s jaw with full force. The only noise is from Jake as Harry is dead silent but his eyes zeroed in on the target.

When blood begins gushing from the man’s nose - Niall and Liam decide it times to physically pull Harry up. Harry had a slight red mark on his jaw when Jake had managed one punch before being defeated quickly.

Harry signs to Niall, “Tell him.”

Niall places his foot on the dude’s chest to keep him down, “My mate wants to let you know if you touch her again we’re not going to pull him off and he’ll gladly beat you to a fucking pulp.”

Jake groans, clutching his nose to stop the bleeding, “Fuckin’ asshole.”

You were still blown away as you watch Harry’s heaving chest as he glares down at the boy. His fist clenched and knuckle bloody and swollen. Harry’s attention turns towards you. His furious expression melts into worry. You can read his face so clearly. He’s afraid he’s scared you off.

It was hard to believe you had this drop dead gorgeous frat boy defending you past midnight on a Friday night. A boy who didn’t need to hear but just to see you needed help to step in.

All your desires and lusts after the man in front of you burst like a rubber-band and the urge to have him felt uncontrollable. “Take me upstairs,” you demand quickly, arousal creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t understand you’re extremely turned on. Instead he looks like a kicked dog who’s about to get in trouble again.

Nevertheless, he takes your hand and maneuvers out of the kitchen and up the stairs until his bedroom door is closed.

Harry lips are turned down unhappily as he begins, “I’m sorry, love. I...” he pauses a moment before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I hope you don’t think less of me.”

You look him dead in the eye and sign, “Kiss me.”

He blinks slowly at you like he just hallucinate the gestures.

So you repeat your motions, slow and with intent, “Kiss me, touch me, do something.” No more time is wasted as he is stepping in front of you and cupping your face in his hands.

Without any hesitation now, he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips - taking your bottom one between his and sucking.

Your hands are immediately tugging at the hem of his vintage shirt, pulling apart to bring it over his head. Dark ink decorates his torso, for some reason something you weren’t expecting. A butterfly on his abdomen, two fern branches, tattoos on his side.

Harry chuckles, “This is new to me.”

Your eyes go wide and you sign, “You’re a virgin?��

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes before telling you, “God no. I mean I’ve never been able to really communicate during sex.”

Then before You can speak, he cuts in a bit frantically, “I’ve always gotten consent - not like that. I mean-“ You cut him off with a kiss - knowing he would never do anything you didn’t want.

You wanted everything from him.

“If you’d believe it, I like a bit of dirty talk when I fuck - but no one understands what I’m saying,” He tries to crack a joke but for some reason seems insecure and nervous.

“Hey,” You take his chin so he shyly meets your eye, “I can’t wait to hear it - you’ve already made me so wet.” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.

“You’re such a good girl,” he signs before tugging off your shirt and instantly finding your lips again. His hands are skillful as they unclasp your bra without any struggle and tosses it.

You tugs a bit as his hair to show your enjoyment as his tongue finds your nipple - lapping before taking it between his teeth. As good as it feels, you want him to feel even better.

You push him back until he’s sitting in the edge of the bed, legs spread and hands behind him on either side holding him up. Jaw clenched with arousal and restraint.

He’s pressed against the zipper of his jeans. And all you wanted to do was see him in all of his glory. You’re quick to undo the button and determined to get the finicky zipper down as well.

His fingers come beneath your chin until you’re looking at his sparkling eyes, a look of lust made his lids a little droopier and his mouth slack from heavy-breathing.

“Are you sure you want to? You don’t have to - I want to eat your pussy either way, pet,” He signs, leaning in for a slow, wet kiss.

You sign back with a pout, “Shut the fuck up.” He huffs out a laugh, letting go of your chin and wrapping a hand in your hair to keep it out of your face.

As soon as he’s helping you wriggle his briefs and jeans down his narrow hips, you’re met with the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen.

When you make eye contact with Harry, he raises a eyebrow and grins cockily, “Is it nice enough for your liking, love?”

You nod breathlessly - wasting no more time before ducking down to take him to your mouth, a slight burning in your throat from how big he is.

His hands keep ahold of your hair, thumbs pressed against your temples as you bob down his length with sloppy, warm licks.

Harry’s moaning as you pop off to kiss and suck at the underside of him, hands coming to cup and roll his balls. It is a few moments later when he taps your cheek to get your attention, one hand leaving his hair to sign that he’s close.

Your mouth speeds up, wanting to give him all the pleasure you could. Your hand coming to stroke at what couldn’t fit in your mouth, pumping quickly.

Before you know it, Harry’s rutting his hips upwards and coming with a long, deep moan from the rumbles of his chest. He’s pulling you up into his lap, pressing appreciative kisses to your cheeks and jawline.

Big hands palming at your breasts before slipping down into your leggings, brushing softly over your mound.

You whine and hitch forward to grind against his palm as soon as he cups you. He smiles widely at your desperation, pressing the heel of his palm harder against you to create more pressure.

You were already so wet and turned on that it wasn’t going to take much. The ball of your climax was burning low in your tummy. However, you wanted him to taste you like he said he would.

You sign, “I’m close. Please, I want your mouth on me.”

With that, he’s flipping you until you’re laid out on the bed. His hands tugging off your leggings and underwear with no further ado. “Holy shit,” He gestures, gazing all over your body and not stopping on one spot for too long.

“What?” You ask, fishing for the compliments you know he’s about to shower you in.

“You’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he signs, dimples popping in his cheeks and a curious finger traces your entrance before dipping in.

You lightly kick at his stomach, “Get on me.” He pouts, crooking his finger against your spot before pulling it out. Fucking tease.

Then his face is disappearing between your spread thighs and a strong lick is delivered from your clit all the way down to your bum.

Since he can’t hear you, you grabs handfuls off his hair. Tugging at the roots, scratching your nails into his scalp to let him know how good he is. So fucking good.

When you accidentally buck your hips hard against his mouth, you curse and run a apologetic hand through the locks. He doesn’t look up at you but lift a hand and signs, “Again.”

You absolutely whine, begging to ride him with determination - climax on the brink. He hums causing vibrations on the sensitive nerves. With that, your hips are meeting his tongue and you’re coming. His face dampening with your release - happy as a clam when he pops back up.

You can’t remember the sign for condom, so you sign, “Protection?” Harry understands right away, rustling through the drawer until he finds a stray packets, “It’s been awhile.”

“Same,” You gestures - watching as he slides it down his length and crawls overtop of you. He was pink and swollen - having to be a bit sensitive from just coming a little while ago.

“Ready, love?” He asks, pressing soft kisses to your jawline. You nod, reaching down to guide him in.

And you weren’t lying, it had been a while and he was big. The stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, just a lot. But his wet, open-mouth kisses made you stay grounded.

Harry’s moans were absolutely obscene as he slide all the way in before stopping to give you a moment. His arms strong, holding himself over you. The cold metal of his necklaces brushing against your tight nipples.

When you have him the okay, he begin giving you deep, hard strokes on each thrust. His noises so loud they had to be able to hear them downstairs. They were deep and low - rumbling in his chest with pleasure.

Then his hand is coming to your throat. For a wild moment you thought he was going to choke you but instead he rest it lightly, palm flat.

It takes you a moment - then it hits you.

Holy fuck. He is feeling the vibrations of your moans - erupting from your vocal cords. Feeling out the movement from your throat so he can feel how much you’re enjoying it.

You should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in you when you come again right on the spot. His fingertips nudging into the skin to feel the intensity as it wracks through you.

When you’re done riding out your orgasm, he reaches for the headboard behind you with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he begins to pound in with all his strength.

The bedframe is hitting the wall so loud that the whole house must be able to hear it. Hitting with every directed thrust until his mouth is dropping down into a long, timbred moan and he’s coming.

---

Later, when the two are you have settled for the night in the warmth of his bed. Harry seems a little nervous, once again. It takes him a moment to meet your eyes and brushes a strand of hair off your forehead.

“What is it?” You ask, tucked into his side. His body so solid and comforting.

“It’s corny,” Harry frowns, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes flash across your face.

“Tell me,” You insist, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss his fingertips.

“I feel like you were made for me. Like...we were meant to be together,” Harry signs, hesitant to share his thoughts. But it doesn’t scare you away. You can’t help but agree.

“I think so too,” You reply before pressing another kiss to his puffy pink lips.

2K notes · View notes

babyjamiebarnes · 3 years

Text

Build-A-Bear

Part Twelve

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Steve, Sam, bff!Peter Parker

Warnings: language, mentions of smut/sex tapes, blackmail/threatening

Summary: With Tony now on your side, you and Bucky are able to take steps toward stopping your blackmailer — until things take a dark turn.

Author’s Note: Ugh, it’s not as long as I’d like it to be but it’s a good lead-up to the final chapter and I won’t feel so bad about taking forever if I finally get something out there 😖 I haven’t been in the best headspace lately but things are kind of looking up so hopefully I get the conclusion out faster 😞

Series Masterlist

Tags: @amourmarvel @fangirlvoice @kennedywxlsh @devilswaldorf @what-the-hap-is-fuckning @alyispunk @fredweasleysbitchh @wearegroot @sunflowerbebe107 @prestigious-tea @brckenmemories @angelbabymed @charmedbysarge @cruelsummer-s @fandomlovver @ahahafudge @thebivirgin

You thanked every deity in existence that there wasn’t enough room for you and four grown men in the Jeep because your dad had to drive separately from you, Bucky, Steve, and Sam. Once the doors shut, however, there was one question lingering in the air.

“So… how’d it go?” Sam asked.

Bucky let out a sigh.

“I’m still alive,” he deadpanned.

“Are you gonna… you know… stay that way?” Sam asked slowly.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips at the question. And when Bucky glanced over at you, he laughed quietly too. Which led to Steve chuckling at him and Sam smiling at the way he (unintentionally) relieved some of the gravity of the situation.

Bucky’s shoulders relaxed a bit for the rest of the drive, but you caught him growing tense again when you all met your dad in the underground parking garage. It was the only place in your apartment building with no windows and no audio, but you knew there was video surveillance. There was a chance your stalker had access to the video, most likely through hacking the system, but they wouldn’t know what was being said. As you approached your father, he pulled what looked like two sniper rifles out of the backseat.

“Barnes, Wilson. You’re coming with me,” he said.

“Dad,” you chastised, assuming he was only taking Bucky with him to keep him from you.

“He was a World War II sniper, [Y/N]. It makes sense to have him using a scope to check where this psycho was watching you.”

You were silent in response, mostly because you knew he was right. And you’d still have Steve with you in your apartment, so it’s not like you’d be left alone.

Bucky immediately checked the safety and pulled back the bolt handle to make sure it was fully unloaded. He didn’t expect it to have anything in the chamber since there was no magazine, but he learned to take extra precaution. And just like when he cleared your apartment all those months ago, something about seeing him wield the power of a firearm made you shiver. How very American of you.

“These are all connected to a secure line,” Tony continued as he handed everyone the type of flip phone you had in middle school. “I hope you all remember how to text the old fashioned way because we’re not calling unless absolutely necessary. Considering what was in the video,” his jaw clenched as his eyes shot daggers at Bucky, “there are probably audio and video devices all over the apartment.”

“We scanned for that when we first started staying with her,” Sam said. “I just figured the video was taken before her identity was released.”

What he said just solidified Steve’s assumption. You definitely knew who was blackmailing you.

“It was after,” you said. “It was… that night was shortly after the…” you hesitated. Everyone looked at you patiently, but you could see Bucky take a subtle step away from your dad. He knew when the video was taken. “Um, it was shortly after the, uh, the pregnancy scare.”

All eyes moved to Bucky and Tony. The emotions that flickered across your dad’s face clearly showed his thoughts: shock, confusion, realization... You wouldn’t be surprised if this was the straw that broke the camel’s back; Bucky must’ve had the same thought as he darted to stand behind you.

“The what?!” Tony barked. “You — Barnes! I’m gonna —” He cut himself off and just huffed out a heavy breath, his hands curled into fists by his side and his jaw tight in an attempt to calm himself down.

“Not to make things worse but it takes two,” you said. “I was a willing participant.”

“But did it have to be with him?!”

“Dad!”

“I’m just saying, pumpkin, it could’ve been Parker!”

“He’s a kid!”

“And he,” your dad countered, pointing at Bucky, “is a senior citizen!”

“Oh my god,” you groaned. “I’m not having this conversation now. We’ll argue about my taste in men later. Go check out the buildings.”

You twisted on your heel and pulled Bucky down for a very unnecessary kiss. You knew it pissed your dad off, but he was being so frustrating! With a snap of his fingers, Tony got Sam and Bucky to follow him out the doors to the street where they would split up and check out the buildings within view of your kitchen and bedroom to see which one the photos were taken from.

Steve led you up to your apartment so you two could stand in the kitchen for everyone to look for from their respective buildings. You hopped up onto the counter while Steve leaned against the fridge across from you, arms crossed and brow furrowed as your eyes met.

“I think you’re right,” you said plainly. Steve held his finger up to his lips and pulled out the flip phone. You were kind of shocked he knew how pre-smart phone texting worked, but he continued to surprise you.

What makes you say that?

It’s not easy to get in this building. It’s even harder to get in my apartment.

Right as you hit send, a familiar jolt of realization shot up your spine. There was one major thing all of you were forgetting. You leaped off the counter and ran to your bedroom with Steve hot on your heels. In your earlier panic, none of you thought to look for a camera in the bedroom. There’s only one angle that video could’ve been taken from and it would’ve had to be inside your room.

If your memory served you correctly, the camera would’ve been set up somewhere on or near your bookshelf. Steve stood in the doorway while you scanned through all your books. You practically knew your setup by heart, so catching the skinny book that was out of place didn’t take long.

You turned to face Steve as you said, “I don’t have a hard cover copy of ‘Romeo and Juliet.’” You turned back to glare at the book and mumbled, “I actually hate ‘Romeo and Juliet’.”

The book was pretty thin, making it stand out even more in your extensive collection, but the title was written in a clear, elegant script along the spine. It almost made you question your own memory — until you noticed the ballpoint-sized hole near the bottom. The black background made it almost indistinguishable, but when you pulled it from the shelf, the hole was evident. And when you pulled it open, you found wires inside the cut-out pages and a small camera tucked against the hole in the spine.

“That fucker didn’t even clean up after himself,” you spat, throwing the pseudo-book onto your mattress. Steve picked it up and checked it out before calling Peter.

“Hey, if I send you a camera, can you see if it’s being wirelessly streamed to a separate device?” Your head snapped back to Steve at those words. When did the old man become so well-versed with tech? The last you knew, he struggled to take an iPhone video. Just a few months ago, he asked what the difference was between a flash drive and a hard drive.

While Steve talked to Peter, you walked back to the kitchen to see if the other boys were all in place. You didn’t have the scopes and binoculars they did, but you could still take a guess at which building your stalker took the photos from.

There weren’t many buildings high and close enough for that kind of angle and clarity, but the one you eyed most was just a bit to your left and a couple stories above where your apartment sat in your building. It wouldn’t be cheap to get a place like that, which made you start to doubt Steve’s assumption.

As you stood in the floor-to-ceiling window frame of your kitchen, your flip phone started buzzing in your hand.

“Yeah?” you answered.

“Don’t say anything that might give us away, in case there’s a recording device in your apartment,” Tony said. “I’m in the building right across from you but the angle doesn’t feel right. I think your boy toy is in the right place.”

As if on cue, Steve stepped beside you and answered his phone.

“Hey, Buck.”

“Sounds like you’re right,” you said to your dad. “He just called Steve.”

“We’ll meet you in the parking garage.” With that, your line went dead.

“Okay, meet us downstairs,” Steve said before ending his own call. “Buck’s pretty sure he found the apartment the photos were taken from. Sent the address to Parker so we should get contact info soon.”

You just nodded and headed downstairs again. Things were finally starting to look up. You had two new leads on top of anything Peter, Pepper, and Happy had found and prayed they somehow linked back to Steve’s accused.

Unfortunately, your optimism was shattered when everyone met back up in the garage. Before anyone could say a word, your personal cell started ringing, but the caller ID was... Bucky.

No one said a word as you all met beside the Jeep and you showed everyone the “James 🐻” ringing on your screen, resulting in a lot of confused looks. Bucky pulled his phone out of his pocket and proved he wasn’t accidentally butt-dialing you, freezing your blood in your veins.

“They’re spoofing,” Tony concluded.

“Answer it,” Steve said.

“Put it on speaker,” Sam added quickly.

You nodded as you pressed “accept,” doing your best to keep your voice steady and unbothered.

“Hello?”

“You’ve really done it now, [Y/N].” The voice on the other end said slowly. They were clearly distorting the sound and you’d bet they couldn’t be traced. They’d never be that stupid. “Have your boyfriend search your name.”

You looked up at Bucky who was scrambling to search your name on his phone… and immediately paled. He almost looked like he had seen a ghost, though you’d argue what he actually saw was so much worse.

“They released the video.”

Your throat constricted as you tried to not literally throw up at those four words. And when Bucky shuffled beside you to show you the top results under your name, you weren’t sure how long you could hold it back. The first page of results was just news articles about your sex tape even though it had been released only 20 minutes ago. You snatched Bucky’s phone and clicked the link to the video and sure enough, it was you and Bucky. Two hours of you and Bucky.

“You son of a bitch,” you practically growled into the phone. “That wasn’t part of your fucking deal.”

“You took away my first bargaining chip so I played my second. And believe me, I’ve got plenty more videos. You two are quite the pair,” the unnaturally deep voice snarked. “But now you also know lives will be lost if you don’t listen. You now have three days or that man and his family die.”

The line cut out then, leaving everyone standing in stunned silence.

“I’ll get Pep on taking down the video,” Tony muttered before pulling his phone out to text Pepper. “We’ll have to swing by a couple banks and pull out the money.”

“Dad, I don’t want you to bail me out,” you practically whined.

“We don’t have any other option, [Y/N],” he snapped. “You don’t have to give a shit about him releasing sex tapes of you and the Vibranium Vibrator,” Bucky cringed at that nickname, “but I know you won’t let that other kid’s family die. We’ll keep trying to track them down, but we have to be prepared.”

You sighed. You knew he was right. If you ended up finding the culprit, if Steve was right, you could just put the money back. Plus, two million out of your father’s billions wasn’t enough to break him.

“Okay, fine. Let’s get ready,” you mumbled.

Steve interjected before anyone moved too far.

“I have a plan.”

#bucky x stark!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x stark!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes series #Stark!reader

196 notes · View notes

adorethedistance · 3 years

Text

Party Hard - Owen Joyner x Reader

JATP masterlist

Warnings: drinking, partying, intoxication, non sexual stripping, swearing probably,

Words: 6343 (which, if you know me, is a FUCK ton)

Summary: Going from tipsy to full on drunk is a terrible idea, but especially when you’ve got a secret to hide that could mean the difference between preserving and ruining your relationship with your best friend.

A/N: A couple items before we get started: I think I’m back on my bullshit? I mean I wrote this fic and it’s three times the length of my normal fics. Also I wrote this headassery as a literal self insert me(ace) x someone and so there are a couple flaws here and there that make this something I’m not 100% proud of. Owen picks the reader up a few times and I’m aware this kind of thing can really effect someone’s experience with this fic so I do apologize for the lack of inclusivity in regards to body type/ableism. I’m falling really behind on school work because I just can’t find the motivation which either means y’all will be seeing a lot more of me soon or absolutely nothing at all. Not sure which yet.

“You’ve got it so bad.” Charlie rests his left arm on his best friend’s shoulder, tipping back the half-full angry orchard bottle he’d been nursing for the better half of an hour. Owen’s stare is immediately broken and he crosses his arms defensively.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” Turning to meet his friend’s smug stare, Owen shoots Charlie a glare of annoyance before returning his attention to the girl on the dance floor. Surrounded by a gaggle of her closest friends, Y/n is dancing and singing her heart out to Fergalicious with Chelsea, Leila, Savannah, and Carolynn. The bunch of them share in sporadic laughs as they exchange ridiculous dance moves just to add to the fleeting moment’s laughter. An assortment of screeches and squawks blend together as they all prepare to sing the rap section of the song. Observing the level of excitement the girls have over the verse, Owen can’t help but laugh at the spectacle.

“Why don’t you just ask her out already?” Charlie inquires between sips of his cold drink.

“What?”

“Y/n. Why have you not asked her out.”

“We’re just friends.”

“Yeah. Because you haven’t asked her out.” Owen rolls his eyes before turning 90 degrees to fully face the smug guitarist. He turns about-face to prove a point, but another symphony of squeals at the next song choice drags his attention back to his other best friend on the dance floor. “You’re so whipped.”

“Am not.”

“Are too! Look, if you don’t ask her out tonight, I will.”

“You’re not even into her,” Owen protests unceremoniously. Setting the molasses colored bottle on the counter next to Owen, Charlie steps back and copies his position of crossed arms and a relaxed stance.

“You’re right, I’m not. But you are, and if that’s what it takes to light the fire under your ass then I’ll do it.”

“She wouldn’t say yes.”

“Are you sure? I mean, the only way to know for sure is to ask.” And with that, Charlie is off, speeding toward Y/n at a pace that launches Owen into an impulsive chase. To prevent his friend from doing something stupid, Owen shoves him in the opposite direction from the group of girls on the dance floor. What he hadn’t anticipated was Charlie moving so far so fast. Owen has longer legs, he’s supposed to be the faster one, not Charlie. That’s why he hadn’t anticipated turning away from his musical friend to come face to face with a very flushed Y/n. Her lip-gloss coated lips are parted as she catches her breath from all the dancing. They look so soft and inviting that Owen can’t help but stare, and doesn’t realize the several looks of confusion among the girls around him.

“Everything okay, Owen?” Snapping out of his hyper focused stare, Owen blinks a few times, trying to generate a reason for coming over.

“You’ve been dancing for a while.”

“...Yeah?”

“Let me fix you a drink?” His statement comes out as more of a question but the breathless girl agrees nonetheless. Owen extends his hand to her which she gladly accepts but not without a quick word to her friends.

“I’ll be right back, I’m getting a drink.”

Her friends aren’t stupid, quite the opposite actually. And they see right through Owen’s facade of fixing her a drink because she’d been ‘dancing a while’. Please. As if they didn’t know a desperate attempt at flirting when they saw it.

The pounding music from the backyard begins to fade and muffle once the pair step into the Shada’s beautiful kitchen space. Owen leads her to the kitchen island where he has her take a seat on one of the barstools in front of the high countertop. Stepping around the fixture, Owen busies himself with whipping up a drink for Y/n at the makeshift bar on the island. He doesn’t even have to ask what it is she wants. Ice, pink whitney, club soda, and a splash of lime juice mixed together in a red solo cup Owen had considerately written her name on before going all mixologist-mode.

“Your usual.”

“Thank you, sir. You know, I’ve only had a handful of barbecue chips since I got here, and I’m already tipsy, so this actually might get me completely drunk.” Taking a sip, Y/n hums out of pleasure, “Why do you make my favorite drink better than I make my favorite drink?”

“So you have a reason to keep me around.” At the sound of Y/n’s laugh, Owen cracks a smile in time with his favorite sound in the world. The blonde haired man leans forward to rest his weight on his left forearm. He stares at her with adoration seeping from his gaze, before lifting his own cup to drink with her.

“What is that?” she asks, sitting up taller to try and see into Owen’s cup over the island.

“Jack Daniels.”

“I want some.”

“No,” Owen answers swiftly albeit softly. Y/n, however, is not feeling as conciliatory.

“No?”

“Have you ever tried whiskey before?”

“Well, no-”

“You’re drinking a fruit flavored cocktail that’s like 30% nonalcoholic. A sip of this would knock you off your little ass.” Y/n frowns at his words and employs a fake pout of anger to guilt her now laughing friend. Despite her smile, she whines,

“You suck.” Owen merely shrugs unapologetically before sipping and wincing at his drink of choice. “So… how did your date go- with Amy?” And there it is. The question that’s been at the forefront of Y/n’s mind for the last 24 hours.

Owen met this girl Amy at a more professional house party type of event and they hit it off right away. They spent the night invested in conversation, sharing in a cacophony of laughter. Y/n had no right to be upset, but she was. Amy was drop dead gorgeous in that Mini length red, velvet dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. Her figure was snatched to the gods, and she was about 5’3”; a seemingly irrelevant thing to notice, but Y/n knew that was the height Owen loved in a partner. At least, based on all his previous flings. And not to mention, her beautiful golden blonde hair that extended all the way down her toned back. Amy was perfect to all standards including that of any straight man with eyes and undoubtedly Owen’s. They spent the entire night together, Y/n long forgotten despite having been Owen’s plus one.

Y/n on the other hand didn’t exactly view herself as the drop-dead gorgeous supermodel type. Seeing how Owen took an interest in her at that event, it was no wonder Y/n was jealous. In fact, she had been so jealous that she allowed their flirting to ruin her entire evening.

She had been invited platonically as Owen’s guest, but Owen didn’t feel guilty about leaving her alone once he saw Charlie was by her side the whole night. Little did he know Charlie was only there for her because Owen wasn’t. It was pity company. Pity company that she was grateful to have as she cried into a few gin and tonics. Y/n avoided telling Charlie about her feelings for the adorable drummer, but with the way events transpired, he had figured out what it was that had upset her.

Charlie so badly wanted to give Owen the guilt trip of a lifetime. And he did once he and Owen were alone, heading home in Charlie’s orange hatchback car. He did so by telling Owen about how his best friend had spent the entire evening crying into gin and tonics. ‘Y/n doesn’t even like gin and tonic’ was all Owen could come up with.

When he inquired about why his best friend was crying, Charlie said he didn’t know, but it may have had something to do with the fact that the person who invited her spent the whole night ignoring her; he left it at that, leaving Owen to connect the dots, sort of. Owen had come to the realization that Y/n must have been crying over him, but why? Unable to comprehend a reason, he pushed the situation to the back of his mind. So far back that when Amy texted him that same night, he immediately responded and eventually set up a date for them to get dinner alone Friday evening.

The date was fine. Objectively there was nothing wrong with it. But every time Amy took a sip of the gin and tonic she had ordered, he couldn’t help being reminded of Y/n that night. It took Owen a solid thirty minutes to finally conclude that maybe Y/n was... jealous? Of what? Of Amy? Quickly reviewing a long list of qualities, identical to the one that Y/n had thoroughly checked through when she first saw the blonde, Owen realized she was indeed jealous of Amy. But why? What did Amy have that Y/n didn’t?

Oh.

His initial conclusion in the car with Charlie had to be right. Y/n was crying over him, and seemingly jealous of Amy, all because Amy had his attention. Why was that a problem?

Oh… no. No, Y/n does not have feelings for him. Y/n is... well, Y/n. His best friend, his partner in crime, his confidant, there’s no way she’s in love with him. There’s a different reason as to why she’d been crying into drinks she didn’t like. And that different reason is why her text replies have been short and cold when he had asked for date night conversation pointers. And that different reason is why her smile kept faltering on FaceTime when he was asking for fashion advice for his date.

Y/n is not in love with her best friend.

Owen had spent the past year pushing down his feelings for the girl that threatened to bubble over the top. If Y/n was truly into him, he would’ve acted on them. But she isn’t, so he didn’t. At least, that’s what Owen told himself…

“It was alright,” he offers lamely as a reply to her inquiry. Y/n simply nods and takes another swig of her drink to dull the ache in the center of her chest.

“Just alright?”

“Okay, it was better than alright. She was great.” There’s a hole burning in the center of her heart, and against her better judgment, she expands the deficit by asking for more information.

“What does that mean- that she was ‘great’?”

“You know…” Owen trails off in search of the right words, some words, any words, but nothing comes to him. To sell her nonchalant demeanor, the hopelessly devoted girl is staring down into her cup as if it’s the most interesting thing in the room. She didn’t expect Owen’s eyes to be boring into hers when she looked back up, so she quickly musters a polite smile. Maybe the average onlooker couldn’t tell it was fake, but Owen knows something is off. He just knows. Because he knows her.

“How did those conversation pointers pan out?” She’s deflecting, he thinks.

“One of them worked.” I’m just feeding into it, he thinks.

“Only one of them?” He’s holding back something, she thinks.

“Well, yeah. We didn’t really do much talking if you get what I mean.” I don’t think I can handle this, she thinks.

“I see…” The pair stands together in a silence so tense they felt like strangers. It’s awful. Y/n and Owen hate every second of it, but what could they do? In a moment blinded by upset, Y/n reaches across the island to grab the newly opened bottle of grey goose and pours what must’ve been no less than three shots of liquid into her cup. No club soda or lemonade this time, she chugs down the rest of her drink in a flash; Owen stares at her in disbelief and shock.

Y/n hates being drunk, she likes being the designated driver, she’s never had straight up liquor in her life, and she’s a lightweight, that’s for damn sure. Owen knows all of these things and is even more surprised to see her reaching for an almost empty bottle of gin.

“Hey. Maybe you should take it easy, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re a lightweight and you know it. Put the cup down.” When Y/n shakes her head no, something in Owen snaps and his desire to be gentle is long forgotten. “Y/n. Put the drink down.”

“Why do you care, Owen?” In taking time to respond, Owen sees the opportunity and goes for it, taking the cup from her loose grasp and splashing it down the drain of the vegetable sink. “What the fuck?!”

“I think you’ve had enough to drink. Come on.” It’s only a matter of time until Y/n becomes an incoherent human being that’s impossible to wrangle, so Owen is very aware he’s on the clock. Snagging two Arrowhead water bottles in one hand, he takes Y/n’s hand in the other and brings her into the Shada’s den. There are only a few other people in the room, one is a couple and the other a pair of pining idiots, to which Owen becomes slightly wary. Not that the dynamic would change much. He and Y/n are practically a couple according to everyone around them.

Chelsea and Charlie are sitting fairly close together for just friends, on the chocolate brown loveseat facing the couch that Owen has plopped his increasingly intoxicated friend onto; Leila is sitting in a single armchair that a very tipsy Taylor is hanging over the back of to hug her shoulders. Upon seeing Y/n’s pouting expression Chelsea seeks more information,

“You good, fam?”

“He threw it down the sink!” She’s fading faster than Owen had hoped.

“I did. I poured what would’ve been her fifth and sixth shots down the sink.”

“Jesus, Y/n, are you trying to kill yourself?”

“What are you, a cop?” Even tipsy she’s still sharp as a tack. If Owen wasn’t frustrated with her at the moment, he would’ve probably laughed. But he is, so he didn’t. Slipping back into caretaker mode, he hands her one of the water bottles he snagged from the cooler on the way out. In her typical stubborn and petulant fashion, Y/n weakly throws the unopened bottle onto the couch cushion next to her. All their friends laugh but Owen isn’t having it.

“Y/n.” And it only takes a firm call of her name for the slumped over lightweight to glare at him but oblige. She retrieves the bottle and sticks her arm out straight toward Owen’s still standing figure.

“I can’t open it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this fucked up,” Leila comments.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you fucked up period,” Chelsea adds on. Charlie laughs lightly before resuming whatever conversation the four of them had going pre-Owen and Y/n’s entrance.

Satisfied with the small sips she’s taking of her water, Owen relaxes and takes a seat next to her on the couch. The temporary break in her temper tantrum allows Owen to save his breath; he opens his own water bottle, taking a few drinks which ended up being half the bottle. He’s given her a good bit of room on the couch but it isn’t good enough for Y/n. It takes her a few failed attempts to screw on the cap of her water but once it’s properly sealed, she moves closer to her best friend. The water has acted like some magical temperament cure as Y/n’s previously permanent pout has disappeared.

Owen knows he and Y/n are close enough to where cuddling wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. But the way she’s burrowed into his side, picking up his seemingly ‘heavy’ arm to place it around her own inebriated frame, laying her head high up on his chest, and unintentionally resting her hand on his lower abdomen, something feels off. Her hand isn’t dangerously low, but low enough that the side of her limp palm has met the waistband of his jeans. Owen can’t help but feel his skin tingle and burn under her touch. Why is he so affected by her touch all of a sudden?

Owen is pulled from his snowballing thoughts by the sound of Y/n’s muffled voice against his chest. He leans down as far as he can which places his head on top of hers gently.

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey, you don’t need to be sorry,” he whispers just loud enough for her to hear. A tiny drop of warmth on his shirt under her head triggers Owen’s memory: Y/n’s an emotional drunk. She doesn’t get drunk often but when she does, she goes all in and becomes somewhat manic as a result. That accounts for her previous anger. Now it’s sadness, so in about ten minutes, she’ll be easily excitable and bouncing off the walls.

Y/n had carpooled with Leila and Chelsea to the party, and though Owen was upset about her not picking him up like they’d briefly talked about at first, he’s suddenly thankful for the arrangement.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?”

“Unhhh.” The lack of a coherent response is enough for Owen, and after finishing the rest of his water, he sits up on the couch.

“Where’s your house key? Hm?” The prospect of losing her key is absolutely devastating to Y/n as she begins to weep. Her imminent distress in response to Owen’s question has all their friends laughing once more; Leila speaks up,

“Check the left chest pocket of her jacket.”

Owen nods, noting the directions, and gently rolls his friend over on her back. Deciding against using her strength, Y/n flops over onto her other side which still allows Owen access to her pocket. His long fingers dwarf the button fastener on her jacket that she often struggles to open, and sure enough her sky blue house key is in her pocket just as Leila said.

“Thanks,” he acknowledges Leila before taking Y/n’s cold hands in his own larger ones to help her stand. It’s a bit of a struggle to stand and as a result, the fading girl leans a bit of her weight into Owen’s side. “You gonna say bye to our friends?”

Y/n nods a goodbye to each person in the room, moving from left to right naming Leila, Taylor, Chelsea, and then Charlie. Upon saying bye to Charlie the small girl starts to cry again, harder this time, much to everyone’s confusion.

“What’s wrong?”

“Charlie looked a-at me like he didn’t l-like me.” The entire room bursts out laughing, Owen included this time, but she’s still crying. “It’s no-not funny.”

“I know. You’re right, it’s not funny.” Owen’s exaggerated sympathy goes undetected by the very emotional Y/n as she presses her face into his grey long sleeve shirt. She reaches up to hug her arms around Owen’s neck for stability as she adds more tears to the tiny spot from before. “Can you walk?” He asks genuinely as more of her weight leans into him. The only response Owen gets is a few soft sobs, and in reaction to her messy state, lets out a subtle eye roll. He shakes his head before bending down to place one arm under her knees and the other behind her shoulder blades, sweeping her off the ground before she can protest.

“Would you guys tell Jer thanks and that I had to take her home?” A symphony of affirmations and goodbyes usher him out of the house, and once outside Y/n’s crying diminuendos into short sniffles and the occasional sigh.

“Here, be careful,” Owen panics as his friend nearly bangs the front of her head against the roof of his car. Once he cautiously places all her limbs in the passenger side, Owen shuts the door and hurries over to the driver’s side as if Y/n could hurt herself in the next five seconds. He places the key in the ignition but before he even touches the gear shift, he turns and looks quizzically at his best friend. The sniffling and sighs coming from her puffy face have lulled her into an almost unconscious state; Owen puffs out a frustrated sigh as he reaches across the entire car to grab Y/n’s seatbelt for her.

Another thing about drunk Y/n is that her emotional state makes her more likely to give in to physical impulses. So after she registers Owen leaning across her lap for the seatbelt, she grabs his shoulder so he doesn’t move away. The action surprises Owen and he turns his face to look into her half-lidded eyes. He’s trying to make sense of the action but his trailing thoughts are interrupted when the girl in the passenger’s seat leans forward slightly to put her face against Owen’s neck.

“I like your smell.” Owen tries so hard not to laugh in fear of upsetting her again, but he can’t conceal the smile growing on his face. He then gently pulls away from her grasp in order to actually start driving,

“Okay. Thank you.”

The car ride is composed of mostly comfortable silence with the occasional inebriated comment or nonsensical sound from the girl in the passenger seat; Owen had been so captivated by Y/n’s uncharacteristically relaxed state, he’d been driving on autopilot and instead of turning left to get on the highway that runs south to where her apartment is, he’d gone north to go to his own place. No big deal, Owen didn’t plan on leaving her intoxicated and alone, and she’s stayed the night plenty of times before now. What’s one more night? It isn’t until he puts the car in park and helps her out of the vehicle that Y/n clocks her surroundings.

“I don’t live here.”

“You don’t, no, but I do,” Owen replies simply before he slides out of the car. Y/n stays in the car as if Owen told her not to move, and looks up at him confusedly when he opens her door. In her tipsy state, she is able to recognize what Owen is doing and smugly places her hand over the buckle of her seatbelt. With her tiny palm over the red button, she begins giggling maniacally.

“What are you doing?” Owen asks with a frustrated sigh although he can’t help the small smile overtaking his features at the sound of her growing laughter. He doesn’t get a response, just more giggling which lets him know he’s going to have to do things the hard way now that she’s in a lifted mood. “Kid, you have to get out of the car.”

“You can’t make me.”

Owen takes a step back from the open door to reevaluate. Y/n always tells him to work smarter, not harder. Another one of her many bouts of wisdom is that you can keep the attention of children and adults alike with a vastly dynamic change in volume. The question is will she notice Owen using this tactic on her in her drunken state?

“Hey, Y/n/n,” his speech drops to a low whisper. “I’m sad, can you hold my hand?” The change in volume works exactly as described; completely convinced by the sincerity of his whispering, Y/n gives him her right hand. “Can I have the other one?”

When she nods a small ‘yes’ and gives him both of her hands, Owen finds himself fighting the urge to laugh at how easy that was. He takes both of her cool hands in his larger left one to reach across her body and release her seatbelt with a swift CLICK.

Luckily Y/n didn’t tangle herself up in the seatbelt, but she had other ideas for causing trouble. Owen helped her out of the car but once she was standing on her own two feet, she began running away from him. With a slam of the car door and a string of breathy curses later, he chases after his best friend before she can hurt herself on literally anything in the parking garage. The sound of Y/n’s laughter carries through the vacant space, and despite all her best efforts, Owen quickly catches up to her. Her giddy intoxication allowed for the suspension of disbelief that she could outrun the much taller Owen Joyner, but she’s sorely mistaken when his strong arms wrap around her waist and lift her feet off the ground. Y/n’s bouts of laughter are contagious; Owen finds himself laughing alongside his best friend. Setting her feet back on the ground he asks,

“Are you going to run away again if I let go of you?”

“Yeah,” she chokes out through the tail end of her laughing fit. The candidness of her reply prompts Owen to throw his head back, shaking it as if in disagreement with the universe itself,

“I appreciate your honesty.” And with that, Y/n screeches in glee as her best friend maneuvers her body in his grip to lift her over his right shoulder.

“Owen!”

“You did this to yourself, kid.”

The silent elevator ride up to his flat is comfortable relative to the current position they’re in. Y/n’s no longer fighting being carried but instead entertains herself by tapping out an intricate beat on the surface of Owen’s back.

“Guess what song this is.”

The beat she’s playing is close to incoherent and Owen tries to stifle his full laugh in fear of making her cry again. He’s been successful so far, but now having Y/n over his shoulder, she can feel the movement of his abdomen that was unintelligible by sight alone.

“Your favorite song,” he guesses insincerely.

“No, my favorite song doesn’t sound like that. It was sicko mode.”

“That was not sicko mode.”

“Owen, how come you don’t wear a badge?”

“What?”

“Because you’re the song police?” Owen can’t help but snort out a laugh even though the comment was made at his expense. Still sharp as a tack.

Once the pair reach the front door of Owen’s ‘bachelorette pad’ as Y/n liked to call it, he sets her back on the ground albeit reluctantly as he recalls why he was carrying her in the first place. Thinking quickly on his feet, Owen forms a plan that’s more likely than not foolproof.

“Hey, Y/n/n?”

“Yeah?” Her voice is still right behind him thankfully.

“Can I have a hug?” After a few seconds of silence in the hall, Owen begins to doubt his plan until he feels the weight of his best friend leaning on his toned back. With her cheek pressed against the middle of his spine, Y/n brings her arms around his waist, clasping her hands tightly together. Her semi-public display of affection allows Owen some time to unlock his front door. Once he props the door open, Owen realizes that Y/n probably isn’t going to let go any time soon and opts to waddle through the threshold with her still attached to him. He’s able to turn around and lock them back in for the night which makes the girl begin to laugh.

“Was this your plan all along? To get me drunk so you could lock me in your apartment and hold me prisoner for the rest of my life?”

“And I would’ve gotten away with it, too...”

“If it weren’t for those meddling kids and their dog.”

True to his imagination that Y/n wasn’t letting go any time soon, Owen swivels her around his torso so that he could hold her to his side rather than support her with his back. He now has his right arm over both of her shoulders as she continues to hug her best friend. The way she leans her head onto his chest makes Owen’s heartbeat the tiniest bit faster. ‘She’s drunk, she doesn’t know what this does to you’ is the mantra blaring through Owen’s subconscious. Shaking any and all sort of romantic thoughts out of his head, he begins to lead her back to his bedroom.

Flicking the lights on proves to be a mistake once Y/n starts groaning miserably, and Owen decides the floor lamp is a better option than the overheads. Much to Owen’s surprise and relief, Y/n moves to sit on the edge of his bed on her own volition. She’s not upright for long as she collapses into the sheets of his unmade bed that contemplated neatening before leaving the house; hindsight is 20/20.

“Hmm. I like your smell,” Y/n parrots despite already bringing up the topic on the ride home.

“This is the same cologne I always use.”

“No. I like your natural smell.”

“What?”

“I was reading up about pheromones the other day. And there was this thing that said when couples like each others’ scent, it’s like a primal way of seeing if you’re immuno-compatible with someone so your offspring have the best chance for survival. It’s an evolutionary thing for the survival of our species. Ants have pheromones, too.”

Sometimes she has trouble remembering to feed herself, but leave it to Y/n to remember extensive information about pheromones whilst intoxicated. The concept is intriguing to Owen, so he proceeds to ask questions, ignoring the tug on his heart he felt after hearing her say the word ‘couples’.

“So, if I like your scent, we’re immuno-?”

“Compatible, yeah. But it’s mostly me because you can sniff out my period.”

“I can what?”

“I read that men can tell when a woman is at her most fertile because that��s when they like her smell the best. They did a study where a bunch of men were introduced to a few different scents, and without fail, the one they liked the most or would describe as ‘sexy’ or ‘attractive’ was the scent they took from the woman who was ovulating.”

Y/n continues talking about what she learned about pheromones as Owen picks up a bit of the mess around his room. She returns to the topic of ant pheromones as he digs through his surprisingly large closet for something for his friend to sleep in. His temporarily bubbly best friend also notes that he should ‘sniff her now because she’s ovulating and he would like that’ which makes him laugh into the drawers of his waist-height dresser. Returning to find her still slumped over on the bed, he pats her leg and beckons her to sit up. After Y/n’s upright again, Owen hands her his classic black ‘BEANS’ t-shirt and a pair of briefs that won’t properly fit her but will fit better than a pair of his actual pants.

“Can you put these on for me?”

“Yeah.” Owen’s conflicted with both wanting to respect Y/n’s privacy by leaving the room, and prioritizing her safety, and not leaving her unattended at any moment. He comes to a compromise which is staying by her side but turning a full 180 to face the wall of his bedroom. A couple of moments pass until Y/n begins whining frustratedly.

“Owen.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t ubns-” her words become incomprehensible as she begins to cry again and Owen turns around to find her struggling with the buttons on her shirt, her jacket long discarded on the bedroom floor. This shirt: her white, cap-sleeve crop top with a peter pan collar that she wore for anything mildly significant, this was her favorite. Owen remembers her fussing about how she ruined it only to find that she just forgot to steam it one day. So with a little heat and water, Owen had fixed the shirt like nothing ever happened, and he’d do it a million times over again if it meant he got to relive seeing the smile that graced her face for the first time again.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do the buttons.” She runs the back of her right hand against her tired eyes to wipe away her tears and Owen internally curses himself for the way the small action makes his heart flutter.

“Do you need help?”

“Yeah.”

“Listen to me, you are okay,” he sinks to kneel in front of Y/n as she sits tiredly on the edge of the bed. Owen doesn’t miss the slight tremble of his hands as he reaches up to unbutton her shirt, but he prays that she will. Through tiny sniffles and teary eyes, she watches his hands effortlessly work down the length of her shirt, each button modestly dancing between his fingertips. Once the short top is fully unbuttoned, Owen returns to his normal standing height and Y/n attempts to shrug the fabric off her body. She struggles lightly and knowing her frustration is imminent, Owen reaches down to gingerly push the sleeves off her shoulders. The light graze of his rough, calloused skin against her own skin sends electric-like shocks through the both of them; yet neither of them believed the other felt it too.

Owen hastily withdraws his hands and, without warning, Y/n quickly removes the bralette she was wearing. Owen’s eyes widen slightly at her lack of inhibition. He does his best to be a gentleman and swiftly redirects his gaze to the white ceiling fan that has all of a sudden become the most intriguing object in the universe. His lower peripheral vision indicates that she’s finally slipped the black tee over her head, but she begins sniffling more fiercely as she struggles with taking off her jeans. Owen sighs and drops to his knees once more in spite of himself, and aids his best friend in slipping the material over the length of her calves and off the tips of her toes. Hoping to speed up the process, he grabs the briefs he had brought her and unfolds them in preparation for helping her into them. His efforts are all for naught as Y/n forgoes the need for any more clothing and slides under the covers of his unmade bed. Owen then turns to leave the bedroom, opting to set up on the couch for the night before Y/n’s small voice is cutting through the comfortable silence.

“Where are you going?” He sighs,

“I’ll be right back, okay? I’ll get you some water and Advil for when you wake up tomorrow.” Y/n then nods acceptingly and allows her eyes to flutter closed as he leaves the room. Despite how tired she feels, Y/n won’t quite yet let herself sleep--not ‘til Owen is beside her. When he returns he sets the ibuprofen bottle on the nightstand before uncapping the Kirkland brand water bottle he had in the fridge. He coaxes her into sitting up just one more time so she can drink some of the water before falling asleep. She sits and rubs her tired eyes as she drinks and Owen has to physically force himself to look away from the adorable sight. He just wants to take care of her forever but things have always been strictly platonic between them.

The risk of making their friendship weird or awkward was just too great.

“Goodnight kid, I’ll be right outside if you need me.” Owen leaves without awaiting a response and lets out an annoyed sigh before setting himself up on the couch in his living room. He was so focused on getting Y/n to bed safely that he forgot to grab clothes for himself. Not a big deal. He simply strips down to just his underwear and climbs underneath the thick Pottery Barn throw blanket Y/n had gifted him as a housewarming gift. That and a fire extinguisher because ‘you don’t notice its absence until you need it’ she claimed. The memory makes Owen smile and he allows his eyes to close after a long day.

A long day that was about to get longer. Owen finds himself sinking further and further into sleep until he hears the padding of footsteps that are now in his living room. He’s too tired to open his eyes, and it’s not like he doesn’t already know who it is. What does surprise him, however, is the feeling of the familiar weight squeezing between the couch and his turned back.

“What are you doing?” He half mumbles into the night.

“You’re warm.”

“That was not the question, Y/n/n.” After not receiving a reply, Owen turns as best as he can to look at his friend who’s nestling her way into his sleeping arrangement for the night. “Kid-”

“I just wanna be with you.”

“Alright,” Owen sighs out of irritation, exhaustion, and a sliver of adoration before sitting up on the couch, “Come on.”

He stands up, fully expecting to have to drag her back to the bedroom, but finds relief in seeing her struggle her way off the couch. Slipping her tired hand into his unexpecting, larger one, Y/n allows her friend to lead her into the bedroom for the second time that night.

Owen considerately lifts the covers for her to climb back into before getting into the other side of the bed.

“Owen.”

“Hm?”

“Guess what.”

“What?”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too, kid.”

“No,” Y/n speaks in a casual tone as if she’s not divulging into her biggest emotional trepidation to date. “I love you, Owen.”

Owen can’t help the way his heart seemingly stops. The way the butterflies in his stomach are going wild. The way he wants to smile like he’s the biggest lovestruck idiot on planet Earth.

She’s drunk. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. She won’t remember this tomorrow.

“I’m in love with you, Y/n.”

She won’t remember that tomorrow.

***

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @kaitlyn2907 @itz-jas@crybabyddl@kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @calamitykaty @n0wornever @dream-a-little-bigger-x @curlybrownhairedboys @amazinggracy @kaitieskidmore1 @asdfghjkl-fanfics @ghostlygreenbean @merceret @jemimah-b99 @ifilwtmfc @thesweetestsinner @imsydneywalker @lovesanimals @thebloodthirstyvampress @bumbleberry-pie @losers-club6 @tefilovesreading @dmcfarland1 @kexrtiz @talk-on-the-street @phantompogues @konciousdreamer@sunsetcurvej @warmnesss0ul @lilyjoyner @joynerxmercer @juliefromaustralia @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @mrstodorooki @morganayennefertyrell

165 notes · View notes

issaxcharlie · 3 years

Text

Spectacular!

Pairing: Alive! Luke Patterson x Fem Reader

Summary: Inspired by Nickelodeon’s Spectacular! Luke Patterson needs the money for his bands demo, and miraculously, that same night he gets an offer to fix his problem. The catch? Rockstar boy has to join his school’s show choir and put up with their fearless Female Lead Singer. (don’t come here searching for accuracy remember it’s inspired by a movie)

Note: I had a lot of fun with this one, hope you like it! Oh and it’s a little long so keep it in mind +8k👀💜

Say this is not her scene would be to fall short, but she has to make sacrifices to find greatness. The first thing she notices when she walks into the little club, is that it's packed. The people look excited and somewhat desperate and she doesn't blame them. The pamphlet marked they were supposed to start at 8:00 p.m. and it's already 8:40. She makes her way carefully until she finds a perfect place in the middle of the room.

The musicians take the stage visibly anxious, especially Alex who cannot stop moving his hands trying to probably calm himself down. Reggie and the rhythm guitarist take their positions. They look at each other one last time before beginning to play the enveloping sound of the pop-rock song. The bass line sounds insane and she hasn't heard Alex play drums in years, he’s exceptional. They could both play without their singer all night and she wouldn't mind.

The space in the center of the stage that belongs to who she came to see today, completely empty. The bassist seems about to take the first verse when Sunset Curve lead guitarist and vocalist Luke Patterson appears on stage.

She has seen him multiple times in the hallways laughing with her childhood best friend, Alex Mercer and her lab partner, Reggie Peters, but she has never spoken directly to him. Still, it's hard not to notice how handsome he is and how much of a charismatic personality he has.

“I'm living my life just the way I like, they say I get a little too loud. Try to push me in a box, over analyze. But I'm never gunna turn it down”

His voice is enchanting and mesmerizing, a sound that immediately reminds her of the best rockers in history and his movements and energy are electrifying. In seconds the entire audience is jumping and dancing to the beat.

“They say never and I say right now!” Y/N analyzes him excitedly. The passion with which he sings and plays his guitar reminds her of when she is on stage, although the two of them dedicate themselves to totally different things, their love for music is the same. She definitely has a lot of work to do to polish him and make him the perfect performer she needs, but if there's anyone who can accomplish the impossible, it's her.

“No one's gonna stop me tonight! Thank you, we are Sunset Curve, tell your friends!” The presentation ends and Sunset Curve leaves the stage. The girl moves quickly to catch up with them at the back of the club, but when she finally arrives, screams can be heard from two of the members of the band.

“I know you don’t like me, Bobby. But trying to sabotage the show by giving me the wrong time is just the most stupidest thing you've ever done!” The guitarist looks furious, his muscles are really tense and Y/N can't help staring at his biceps way more than she probably should.

"This fight of egos between the two of you has to stop, we can no longer continue to be in the middle." The bassist cries out, tired of all the bickering.

“You no longer have to, Reggie. It’s time to decide. The lousy rocker or me. Remember that the money for the demo is mine before choosing... I'm not sure Patterson's lyrics can compete without the money to record them.”

The guitarist looks down at the ground, a mixture of anger and sadness on his face. Alex and Reggie turn to see each other for a second and then position themselves on either side of Luke, no sign of doubt on their faces.

“We’ll find a way without you. Let’s see If you find one without us.” Reggie declared with a little smirk. Bobby grabs his stuff and gets into his truck without looking back, completely furious.

"Some things Bobby was angry about are true and you have to improve them. You are not a solo artist, you are part of a band." Alex points to Luke as soon as the truck is out of sight, but before he can respond the blonde intercepts the girl at the door.

“Y/N?” The three of them turn to see her, Reggie smiles at her while Luke looks pissed off.

“Hey guys, I came to talk to Luke.” Luke frowns in surprise while the other two gape for a few seconds.

"Really?” Y/N turns with a murderous face towards her friend, who puts his hands in his pockets and begins to walk. “...Okay. Meanwhile Reg and I are going to figure out how to get the drums in Luke's car."

"If you come for an autograph please be quick, I don't feel like socializing." The guitarist declares to the wind, not wanting to pay attention to the stranger who approaches him in the middle of the alley, no matter how cute she looks.

“I’m not a fan.” She confesses in a firm voice, trying to measure the situation.

"Oh, then I'll go. See you later beautiful." He's about to leave when her voice stops him.

“Patterson, come back here!” There's something about her tone that makes Luke suddenly interested. He turns to see her carefully, her chin is up, her shoulders back. Her lips are press together and her eyes look determined and he can't help but admit that the confidence she projects is really doing something to him.

“2 minutes, firecracker.”

“I’m Y/N Y/L.” Faced with no comment from the guitarist, she decides to continue. “I need a male lead singer for my group and I think you might be the perfect fit, after I'm done with you, of course."

He’s unable to believe what he hears. “A band? I think you know pretty well I'm already in one.”

“It’s not a band, it’s a group. THE group If I can say so myself. Spectacular!” She affirms with the first smile he sees her that night, and he can't believe it is possible that she can look even more beautiful.

"Don't you think you're exaggerating a bit with the spectacular thing? At least tell me the name or what kind of band is." She rolls her eyes and he chuckles in response, thinking it was adorable and hot at the same time.

“I already told you, Spectacular! It’s a show choir.”

“Is this a joke? Did Bobby sent you?”

“No and no. I know it’s not really your style, but I’m telling you I can make it work. I heard a bit of the conversation you had with the band, the prize of Nationals is 10,000 dollars. I'm willing to give you half for the demo, if we win, obviously. And I can assure you we will if you accept and do absolutely everything I say.”

“Firecracker, are you trying to tell me that all I have to do to raise the money is put on some stupid cowboy or tiger-print outfit and humiliate myself in front of an entire audience with my best jazz hands? Wow, sounds like a dream!” Maybe he got a bit too sarcastic, but meh, as pretty as she is, she's still a stranger.

“My name is Y/N, and I'm not appreciating your tone of voice.” By this moment the girl seems tired of the musician, who feels the frustration in her and tries to be more gentle.

“I- I’m sorry. Thanks for the offer, but I don't feel as desperate yet as to end my reputation in that way. I hope you find what you are looking for, but that’s just not me. I'm just a guitarist.” She nods, entwining her arms against her chest. He admires her for a few more seconds and turns to his car, where his friends are already waiting for him to help with the drums.

Before getting behind the wheel he turns to her one last time, but she is nowhere to be seen.

Fights between Luke and Bobby weren't new to the band. The big-headed attitude of both collided practically all the time and things had been getting worse in recent months with the more overconfident attitude of the guitarist, but they never imagined that they would end up in this situation.

The days go by and the boys are running out of time. They have to deliver the demo to the Orpheum offices in two months so that they can be taken into account for the great concert they will hold at the end of the year presenting the best new talents in the city. All they've heard from Bobby is that he's trying to build his own band but without much success. Still, he doesn’t fold his hands and continues to try on his own.

The three remaining members of Sunset Curve are in Alex's room lying on the floor with their instruments around trying to think of solutions, when Y/N's voice coming from outside refreshes the blonde's memory. “What did Y/N want to talk to you the other day?”

“Who?” Luke narrows his eyes in confusion.

“Y/N? The captain of the school’s show choir? She went to talk to you after Bobby left the band. Small, fire in her eyes, a lot of attitude.”

“OH, Firecracker! So that group is our school's choir? that's even worse. She tried to recruit me, even offered me the money for the demo if we win the competition in which they will participate.”

“What? She wants you in Spectacular? What did you said?” Alex heard that his friend's ex-boyfriend broke up with her and joined last year's national champions, but he never imagined that she would try to replace him with someone like Luke. Luke is distracted by a melody and doesn’t answer his friend's question.

"Why does your mom always leave her music on when she leaves to work?" The music is definitely not his style, they are always usually pop songs or even songs from musicals, but the singer's voice is one of the most beautiful he has ever heard so it never bothers him.

“It’s not her music, is Y/N.” Alex responds, wondering what the young woman is up to since she is never usually home at this hour.

“Who?” Alex's eyes widen, not able to believe his friend.

“Really? I already told you!” The guitarist tilts his head and shrugs. “Firecracker?”

“What does firecracker have to do with this?” Alex opens his balcony curtains and the silhouette of a young woman singing and dancing through her transparent pink ones comes to their visions.

“She’s so good bro, I thought it was a record too.” Reggie looks at her with a big smile as Alex rolls his eyes at Luke.

As soon as he sees her, the musician is in a trance, admiring the grace and energy with which she moves, wanting with all his might to remove the pink curtain that does not allow him to see her properly.

The song ends and a well-known melody begins to play with prominent bass and drums. “Guys, shut up! I’m trying to hear her sing.”

“It’s not us, man.” Reggie answers almost screaming with how loud the girl’s music is.

“What do you-” Luke turns around and sees his friends with their hands raised, the cables finally connecting in his brain. "She is listening our song?"

"Not just listening, she's also destroying your career, her vocals are amazing." The black-haired boy adds, smirking and running to connect his bass.

Luke excitedly opens the balcony window and sings the pre-chorus as loud as he can to get the singer's attention. “Call me in the morning to apologize, every little lie gives me butterflies.” She immediately turns around and smiles at the guitarist's cocky smile. She opens the curtain and the window and her sunset curve t-shirt is the first thing the band notices.

“Something in the way you're looking through my eyes, don't know if I'm gonna make it out alive.” Luke sings seductively towards her, each word fully dedicated to the woman in front of him.

Reggie accompanies them with his bass while Alex looks at his friends incredulously, an "Are you fucking kidding me." Comes out of the blonde almost like a whisper when he identifies the shirt that the girl wears as his.

Both sing the chorus together and the chemistry is unquestionable. Alex had never thought of this two together because at first glance they seem completely different, but thinking about it a little more deeply they couldn't be more similar. They are both passionate, headstrong, live for the stage, and are ridiculously talented and confident.

“Fight so dirty, but you love so sweet. Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth. Late night devil, put your hands on me. And never, never, never ever let go.”

The performance between the duo is playful, driving, sexy and intense and Alex and Reggie can't help but feel like they're interrupting a private moment. As soon as the song ends, the girl moves closer to the window, blows them a kiss and closes it.

"Where did that woman come from?" Luke whispers as he tries to catch his breath. Nobody had enchanted him so much just by singing, well, nobody had enchanted him, period. But she’s definitely something.

“She has been my neighbor since we were 6 years old, we used to be best friends but we both drifted apart when we entered high school. She’s amazing, the best performer in the city.” Alex informs him and then Reggie adds his own piece of valuable information. “She’s my lab partner. Fun, smart, beautiful, the whole deal. A true gem.”

“Answering your question, I said no to her offer. But I guess the group of someone this rad can't be that bad. And we really need the money." The drummer purses his lips and nods. His friend definitely took the hook.

"Honestly, I always wanted to audition, I guess the three of us could try in, to support you obviously."

“Of course man, she sounded desperate when she asked, and if the shirt and song is any indication she is definitely a huge Sunset Curve fan. She tried to fool me by saying she wasn't a groupie, as if that was possible after seeing us perform.”

His friends leave the house and Alex plays on the drums the secret signal he had with the girl when they were younger, a minute later the girl appears in her window with an amusing smile, dressed in her classic blue pajamas.

“Really?” The drummer chuckled and his friend’s smile grows even bigger, a little laugh leaving her lips. “The shirt was a nice touch. A little much, but that idiot must have fallen for it completely. I want it back by the way.”

“You can see right through me. You know the invitation is open, right? I would love nothing more than to have you there.” He has known her his whole life, and realized early on that she was just trying to get his friend's attention to reconsider her offer by raising his ego, and he honestly doesn't mind. It's about time Luke met someone of his caliber. Perhaps her influence could do him good.

“I- thank you. I guess we’ll see. See you tomorrow.” She blows him a kiss and closes the window. Tomorrow sure is going to be an interesting day, Sunset Curve joins Spectacular.

Having to face Spectacular! And telling them they still don't have a male lead singer who can compete against Damian was not easy. Her options are running out and she honestly doesn't know what to do to save them.

Damian on stage is the best, it pains her to admit that she has never seen anyone like him. At first she thought she could continue without him, but it’s becoming increasingly obvious that he is just impossible to replace.

Everyone continues to practice the routine, clearly discouraged after her bad news and it honestly breaks her heart. She knows how much the group means to everyone for different and personal reasons and she can't let them lose this. So whatever she has to do, she’ll do it so they can have the leader they deserve.

“I thought the children in the choir would have more energy, this is just sad, firecracker.” She hides her wide smile before turning to the owner of the voice, who is entering the auditorium with his best friends. Money really talks, otherwise she can't explain what would make him appear here.

“Dude, can you please play nice? This is important!” Reggie looks flustered and scolds Luke probably louder than he planned. The guitarist just ignores him and winks shamelessly at her. Seems her little plan from yesterday was successful, now she just has to play the situation in her favor.

“Mercer, Peters... Patterson. Can we help you with something?” The performer shows a perfect poker face, Spectacular continues to practice but they can't help but turn their attention to the rock band.

“I came to accept your proposal, but only If we can include Reggie and Alex in the deal. I guess as long as I’m in whatever I ask shouldn't be a problem." He crosses his arms and gives her a confident smile.

“I could actually do with a few more members, specially as talented as Reg and Alex. As for you, you've already turned down my offer Lucas, but if for some reason you don't graduate this year, make sure you audition the next one. Now, let’s start boys." Y/N moves within inches of Luke to gently close his open mouth with her index finger, and gives him a small wink before turning and taking the other two musicians each on each arm and pulling them closer to where the group is still practicing.

“Y/N, you can’t be serious.” The skilled singer continues to ignore him as she explains to her new members something Luke can't quite hear.

The musician frustrates and walks until he is directly in front of her. “Y/N” He groans.

“I'm not firecracker anymore? That is just sad.” Luke looks upset, but she's determined to not let him have what he wants after what he said at the club, so if he wants the money that bad he's going to have to prove it.

“I’m going to explain you something quickly so you can go and stop wasting my time. I’ve seen your band play, I know how good these two are at singing, which means I don't need you anymore, nor do I have to put up with your rockstar wannabee attitude. I need someone that I can connect with and have the chemistry that leaves everyone forgetting how to breathe, and after yesterday, I just don't think that's you.” Right now she is grateful to be such a good actress because yesterday's act melted her legs, even though they were separated by the balconies. This man is unreal, totally unfair.

"I do, I wouldn't be surprised if they kissed at any moment." The bassist whispers as Alex looks at him with an incredulous face, he just slowly shakes his head from side to side and continues to see the leader of their band and their new leader in a starting contest, is kind of an amusing sight since Luke is definitely not used to having to face someone like him.

“It’s like you said, you are just a guitarist. Thinking you could handle something like this was ridiculous of me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a group to direct."

Y/N hopes she hasn't pushed the rockstar too much, but remains firm in her tactics and turns to the others to continue with the rehearsal. She signals them to put the most similar song to the Sunset Curve sound that she can remember at the moment to make Alex and Reggie feel more calm and to see if she finishes catching Luke’s interest, who still doesn’t move from where he is with his eyes fixed on her, which she takes as as a good sign.

The moment the song start, both sunset curve members smile, and Luke's voice is heard from behind. “So you're the girl, I heard the rumor.” He sounds powerful and captivating and immediately sets everyone's eyes on him. She doesn’t give him the luxury of turning to see him, but he is not going to give up and in a quick and agile movement he turns her by the hand.

“Why don't you break my heart, make it hurt so bad. Come on give it your best, nothing less, I insist, I want it just like that.” The girl should have thought more about her choice before asking for a song like this. Every word that comes out of the musician's mouth is addressed directly to her with an intensity in his eyes and movements that should be illegal.

She tries to get out of his way but he makes it pretty clear that he's not singing to prove himself to the group, he's doing it to prove something to her. Specifically, to prove her wrong.

“Stare me down, intimidate me. Oh baby please you'll never break me.” He comes dangerously close to her, basically inches apart, his eyes fixed on her lips and smiling flirtatiously as he sings, his eyes glinting mischievously.

She enters the song so as not to make him feel like she’s defeated and starts dancing with him to the rhythm, their movements matching effortlessly as they move across the stage.

She pulls herself back as far as she can, but Luke surprises everyone by doing a body roll on the floor, his arms looking more gorgeous than ever in that sleeveless shirt as they take the full weight of his body without any problem, his eyes never losing contact with hers. All the girls start to do small screams while Y/N's cheeks turn red at her thoughts. He slides on his knees towards her and gets up as he puts his foot on her to make her lose balance and catch her right at the end of the song.

“Why don’t you break my heart.” They've been in a trance since the song started and it's like it's just the two of them in the auditorium. Their lips are almost touching, neither willing to give up eye contact or move from their current position, until the applause and shouts of excitement bring them back to reality.

“I have chemistry with everybody that I sing with, firecracker.” He whispers to her lips before shifting the girl's full weight to his right arm to raise his left one to her face and carefully close her mouth with his finger, winking with a cocky smile before lifting her up.

Immediately everyone begins to advocate for him with all kinds of arguments that ranged from how sensual he was to how much of a presence he had on stage. Her best friend’s comment is the one that catches his attention the most. "You have even more chemistry with him than Damian, I didn't think it was possible." That definitely sounds interesting.

Y/N pretends to listen to her teammates before saying Luke can enter the group. The truth is that she knew from the first moment she saw him perform with Sunset Curve that he was a star, but this facet without the guitar and irradiating passion from his pores was something that left her speechless.

Still, she knew all the work that would go into preparing the band and it really was exhausting. For them to understand that they couldn't just sing like they do at the club, that there are rules to follow, dance steps they have to learn, facial expressions they have to master, notes they have to hit perfectly, wasn’t easy but they succeeded.

Along the way, she regained her bond with Alexander, her friendship with Reggie grew stronger, and each day she felt closer to Luke. She has been practicing a duet with him for weeks now, and the chemistry that they have set to burn the stage more than once. It was hard for her to ignore how the guitarist's hands feel on her thighs as he lifts her or the way he wraps himself around her, breathing softly down her neck or brushing his lips teasingly over her cheekbone. Both are very physical to show affection so small contacts such as hugs or caresses, as well as small kisses on the cheek or hand were very recurrent. They had also gone out multiple times alone and with their friends, from the cinema, the park, to see them play, to small parties at home, to midnight talks.

Reggie was the one who had her alone the most because they were lab partners, but no matter how hard the bassist tried to get information from the girl, he never succeeded. The truth is that not even she knows what is happening with the guitarist, she is for the first time in her life letting herself be carried away and enjoying the moment, and she’s loving it.

Luke and Alex are in detention after the brown haired boy made a mess in the classroom by putting together a little concert with the help of the blonde, and as they die of boredom, his mind can’t help to go to her for the 14th time of the day. "How did she end up in the show choir?"

Alex is blank for a few seconds but analyzes the question and realizes who they are talking about. “Spectacular used to be the most important show choir in the country, led by her mother, may she rest in peace. Y/N always wanted to be a part of it and when she lost her, it became a goal. She suffered a lot to get to the perfect star we see today, especially because her father is rarely there since he works outside the country. She has practically had to face alone auditions, injuries, she had to learn to sew, comb her hair and put on makeup for the show, sing for hours her solos with no one to encourage her, without mention that the current director could not care less about the group and practically leaves all the work to her. That’s why she’s so be fearless, she kind of has to."

“I didn’t know.” The sight of Y/N as happy as ever with his mother when he took her home for lunch the week before appears in his memory. She looked radiant as she ate his mother's famous stew and listened to stories of little Luke as he gently stroked her thigh while songwriting with his other hand. When was the last time she got to experience something as homelike as that? Luke probably doesn’t want to know.

Alex's sad voice brings him back to the conversation.“I was supposed to be there, you know? At first I was. We were going to audition for Spectacular together, but that summer I met you and Sunset Curve was born, and I didn’t have the time anymore so I abandoned her. I knew how important it was for her to have me there, and I didn't even go to her audition. And do you know how many times she has reproached me? Not even one.”

Luke knows that Alex would never hurt her on purpose and that the situation was probably much more complicated than he expresses it, so he reassures him and lets him know that she loves him and is proud that he took his own path. As soon as the blonde calms down, he begins to tell him multiple stories about when he and the girl were kids, the songwriter takes out his journal and begins to add lyrics to the song he has been working on, more inspired than ever.

“You are falling so deeply for her, man. I’m happy for you both.” His friend comments to him while reading the verses written on the paper. He totally is.

“Bowling, nice. I'm going to finish you off, Patterson.”

“As sexy as your confidence sounds, I'm not going to let you win.”

“I'm pretty sure you've never gone bowling.” Alex adds with furrowed eyebrows.

“Your point is, Mercer?” She wrinkles her nose and sticks out her tongue. Reggie chuckles amused.

"How can you be so sure that you are going to win?"

“Oh, my dear cute blonde. I’m good at everything.” She makes a slight remark on everything with her eyes fixed on the guitarist, who chokes while blushing.

She smiles cheekily at him and confidently steps into the room, Sunset Curve behind as Alex and Reggie tease Luke for being completely whipped.

Happiness doesn't last long when the first thing they see inside is Damian Miller along with a couple of his new teammates. The moment their eyes meet, Y/N seems to melt, but not in the good way.

Her firm and perfect posture now all bent as she embraces herself with her arms and tries with the strength that has left to hold her gaze at the person who took everything from her without much more than an empty sorry.

When she feels the guitarist at her side again, she unconsciously stretches her hand to intertwine her fingers with him, who tilts his head to see their hands together and then to see her face.

She is not doing it to make Damian jealous, but to feel supported. And when Luke realizes it, he can't help not feeling angry at the boy in from of them. In the month that he has been with her, he has never seen her doubt, fear, or believe anything less than that she is unstoppable. And today for the first time ever he sees her intimidaded, and the fact that it's because of a jerk like this makes it even worse.

He rubbs her hand to make her feel less anxious and when she turns to meet his eyes, he brings his index finger to her chin and winks at her, hoping she gets the message. She seems to do it because she immediately smiles playfully and begins to look more relaxed.

The guitarist is aware that Damian was his firecracker's first boyfriend, and he also knows how much he betrayed her love and trust. No matter how strong the woman is, her reaction is completely normal and valid, and that she has the confidence to be vulnerable and let him be there for her means a lot to him.

“Princess.” Damian whispers as he moves closer to her, his eyes fixed on Y/N and Luke's clasped hands.

“I’m not your princess, Y/L is just fine. Listen, Damian. I could pretend this is not uncomfortable and boring but, I don't want to. So yeah, excuse us.”

She pulls the hand that joins her to Luke to make him walk and Alex and Reggie follow behind them, looking at her ex boyfriend with little smiles of pride. Alex knows how much Damian turned off Y/N’s spark and seeing her put him in his place makes him feel so proud.

"So someone is going to teach me bowling or what?"

“I’ll do it baby, but another day. Today we came here with a different purpose.” Luke points to the large Rock the World machine located in a comfortable corner space.

“Of course, is always about music with you, eh Patterson?” She smirks, getting a little closer to him.

“Pretty much, but I can tell that attracts you, Y/L.” He wrinkles his nose, his lips parting slightly.

“Hell yeah it does.” he smirks, not at all expecting her to admit it so openly but he definitely should have seen it coming.

“Good thing I’m into dominant firecrackers then.”

“Could you stop flirting for a second and start playing? I have plans to destroy Alex and your daily session of sexual tension is not going to ruin it.”

Both smile at Reggie while Y/N takes the games microphone and Luke the guitar. The song that Y/N chooses is She’s so gone by Naomi Scott, and it goes without saying that the boys have never played it in their lives but they love a challenge.

The mastery with which the girl interprets the song makes a good number of people come to see the round, including her ex-boyfriend and his new friends.

“Here I am, this is me, and I'm stronger than you ever thought I'd be. Are you shocked? Are you mad? That you're missing out on who I really am.”

The singer sings the verse directly towards Damian, as his friends start pointing out and teasing him. Reggie goes over to tell Luke he thought he would join her, but the guitarist only replies, "I want to see her shine."

She gets carried away with the music and draws Luke to her, jumping and twirling to the beat of the music. The guitarist hyping her up every single second og the song. At the end the night was incredible, the four of them spent it singing, dancing and even bowling, which Y/N ended up dominating from the second round.

Luke thought that there would be no better time than that night to show her what he had been working on, so after saying goodbye to her he went to Alex’s where he had left his journal.

Before he can say goodbye to the blond, screams are heard from the house next door. “I wasn't trying to embarrass you, Damian!”

“No? So what were you doing shaking your hips against the rock boy?”

“I don't have to explain anything to you, but I think it's pretty obvious why I wanted to be against that body, have you seen it?” She says it playfully with her eyes fixed on the guitarist, who is walking with the blonde to her door, her eyes glinting wickedly in the dark. He chuckles, knowing it's the girl's way of reassure him and she smiles as she sees his expressions relax.

“Everything alright, firecracker?” Luke does not stand in front of her like a brave prince, he stops a meter from both of them and asks before intervening, and that makes her heart melt. Because he wants to hear her first, he trusts that she can take care of it and has the confidence to tell him if she needs help, which is also completely valid. And it's something she has to work on, know that there are also times when it's okay to trust someone. That you don't always have to carry the weight alone.

“Go away, punk. My girl and I are in the middle of something.” The three of them start laughing at the ex-boyfriend's intimidation attempt, who seems to get angrier with every laugh that comes out of their mouths.

“I’m fine baby, but you guys could show him the way out? I’m tired of his bullshit.” She asks the boy with a cute smile, and he would disintegrate over the nickname if her horrible ex-boyfriend and her best friend weren't there.

"Don't touch me, I’ll go. Right now the numbers are not working in my favor so we will fix this where it really matters, on stage. Let's see if this attempt at a singer can save you from total humiliation, because let's be honest Y/N, you are nothing without me."

The faces of both members of Sunset Curve begin to tense, Luke's fists completely white from how much he's clenching them. For her part, the singer, who is already used to that type of comments from her ex-boyfriend, only tells him "yes, yes, you're right. It was a pleasure Dami, never come back." while pushing him to the other side to make him go away.

The nickname comes off her tongue in the most natural way in the world, she doesn't even seem to notice it and Luke feels some annoyance hearing it. As if someone had hit him in the stomach. But immediately the discomfort goes away when the girl turns to them again with a big smile and runs to hug them excitedly.

“Thanks for coming to check me out, guys. Things can sometimes get out of control with him.”

"We will always be there for you when you need us, okay? I actually went into Alex's house to get something I wanted to show you but it's late, I’ll come back tomorrow." The blonde turns from his friend to the other, a tired smile appears on his lips as he passes Luke his journal to place his arm on his childhood friend and lean on her.

"No, don't go please. Damian was pretty mad and... I don't want to be alone." She can be very dramatic at times but the fear in her voice sounds sincere, and remembering the scream that brought them outside in the first place Alex imagines how scared she really was before seeing them show up and his heart clenches at the thought.

“O- Okay, sure.” He sounds nervous but the excitement is evident in the way his left leg keeps moving, just like when he's on stage.

“I do have to go in, you already know mom. Will you be alright with just Luke?” He already knows the answer from the girl's radiant gaze but it doesn't hurt to confirm. She hugs him tightly with her arms around his neck and whispers a "Yes, I love you but go away already." which makes the drummer laugh out loud while high-fiving his other friend goodbye.

The third wheel enters his house and finally they are alone. She smiles and takes him by the hand to enter the house. Luke takes a moment to admire it, everything is in place but there are several instruments throughout the living room. A keyboard on the couch, a guitar next to the TV, even a tambourine on the table.

"May l?" He walks over to the guitar and turns to see the girl nodding and pointing up the stairs for him to follow. Her room is quite similar to her style, white is the predominant color but there are many details in pink and gold, as well as multiple yellow lights giving a romantic tone to the room at midnight.

“Do you want to show me now?” she asks eagearly, with joined hands, closed eyes and pursed lips.

“Y- yeah... of course.” He sits on the rug and puts the guitar aside, then puts his notebook between his legs and when he finds the sheet he is looking for, he carefully tears it off. The girl looks at him adoringly, the happiness of having him with her making her heart beat louder in her chest. She sits across from him making sure to brush his legs and waits for him to speak.

“Here.” He looks nervous, his cheeks totally flushed as he avoids eye contact for the first time since they met.

Y/N takes the sheet in his hands and a huge warm smile appears on her face when he sees the guitarist's terrible lyrics. BRIGHT written and highlighted several times in the title.

“It’s for you.” Luke whispers while bringing his face closer to hers, making her shiver.

“You wrote me a song?” She doesn't know what to say. Since her mom, no one had done anything so beautiful, considerate, and selfless for her. Something so vulnerable and full of love.

“Don’t be mad, but Alex told me a little about how you ended up in show choir, your friendship with him, your mom.” He turns to see her looking for her reaction, she just nods to tell him it’s okay to continue. “A sweet story about a little girl with the voice of an angel who loved to sing love songs. And you know what was in my head all that night? That even though I've never written one, I would write millions of love songs for you.”

Some tears fall from the girl's face, she carefully places the lyrics on the guitar and throws herself on the guitarist, who falls in surprise against the carpet, making sure to grab her by the waist so that she falls safely on his chest. She rests her arms on either side of his head and brings her lips against Luke's, brushing them gently.

Luke doesn't move a muscle, not wanting to do something to make her uncomfortable, when he suddenly hears her talk. “And what about teeth? I mean is not the sweetest love story ever told but-”

The boy chuckles, Y/N's curious eyes a few inches away. “Alex wrote that one after his first breakup, Reggie and I did the melody.”

“Good. Guess we’ll have to start making some experiences to help you write all that songs.” At that moment she finally pushes her lips against his, both in a moment of euphoria at the taste of each other. She presses her body against him and he bites lightly with his teeth on her lower lip to shove his tongue against her mouth in response. Her little hands pulling his hair hard as his hands go down her butt. Both of them enjoying what they had been dreaming of for so long.

When the two finally separate they fall in a comfortable silence, she starts to admire his facial features, delicately running her fingers through his nose, his mouth, his cheekbones, until he interrumpts her. “I knew you want me from the beginning, I could see the lust in your eyes. Everything about the choir was a complex plan to get me under you.” Luke affirms with his best poker face, and sees clearly how her eyes fill with light while a pure laugh escapes from her now swollen lips.

“And as always, I achieved the goal. The hot local rockstar is sleeping on my bed tonight.” No matter how hard he tries, he can never catch her off guard and he always ends up being the one blushing. She kisses him softly before getting up and taking the song lyrics back. “Luke, do you mind if I sing a bit of the song?”

“Of course not, it's yours. I will accompany you with the guitar, from the pre-choir?”

She nods and begins to sing the words he wrote for her. “Life is a risk but I will take it, close my eyes and jump. Together I think that we can make it, come on, let's run.”

She is reading the choir as she sings and the urge to cry reappears. He's basically telling her that she no longer has to go on living life alone, that she can lean on him, she can trust him to fight by her side. That it can be us instead of I.

“And rise through the night, you and I, we will fight to shine together. Bright forever.”

As soon as they finish singing Luke puts the guitar aside and goes over to wipe the tears from the girl's face. “I know that at first glance it doesn't seem like a love song, but..."

“But it is. It’s perfect, thank you Luke.” She didn't know that someone other than her could make her feel so special, but he proved her wrong, again.

The night before was like a dream. Y/N sleeping with his shirt while he wrapped her completely in his arms, singing softly in her ear and leaving little kisses on her neck every few verses until she fell asleep. At this point there is no way to deny how completely in love he is with her.

“Man, we need to talk.” His blonde friend wakes him up from his daydream and starts pulling him down the hall to an empty table in the cafeteria, where Reggie is already waiting for them.

They both sit down and Alex takes a deep breath as he plays with his fingers, trying to form coherent sentences with the words in his head. “Bobby called last night.” Luke's gaze instantly shifted to disgust, while Reggie looks quite shocked.

“So? What did he want?” Luke whispers, trying to sound disinterested.

“He sent some of our videos to an important person at Destiny Management and they are interested in the band. He said that if we comply with certain requests he will give the money for us to record the demo this Friday so that it’s ready for the appointment."

“And I guess you told him we don't need him or his money. What did he answer you? He cried?" the guitarist asks with an amused face, but his friends just look at each other.

“Don't you think we should think more about it? What happens if we don't win nationals? We’ll have lost something as sure as Bobby's deal for nothing."

“She’s my friend and I love her but I have to agree, Luke. As difficult as it is, our priority has to be Sunset Curve, not Spectacular"

“But-”

“They are right, Luke.” All three look at the girl, as pale as If they had seen a ghost. “Spectacular is my dream, And I know I'd do anything for it. It would be unfair of me to get angry because you’re fighting for yours. Don't hesitate, if anyone can find a way out of this it's me.”

“But, the duet...”

“I’ll just have to be the melody and the words. I’ll be fine, and honestly I'm so proud of you guys, I know you will be rock legends one day.” All three feel guilty but don't know what to say or do to make it right. She goes over to hug the drummer and the bassist who take her in their arms with all their strength, a “I’m so sorry” from the blonde accompanied by an “I know” from the girl can be heard. Then she stands in front of the guitarist and kisses his lips intensely, but breaking away painfully fast. The guys leave lovers alone for a moment of privacy.

“I believe in you, baby. You are destined to be a star, forget everything else, even me. Take the moment and knock them off their feet.” She kisses him lightly on the lips and walks a few steps back. “This month was the happiest of my life in a long time, thank you. Guess I’ll see you guys around.”

“Why do you sound like you are saying goodbye? And a horrible one? I thought you were good at everything.” Luke walks over to her again and places his hands on her cheeks, rubbing them gently. His voice is shaky and his eyes are glassy, she snorts at his sudden taunt, a little smile covered with the tears.

“Once everyone gets back to their own business, do you think you'll still have time for me? Alex is my damn neighbor, and we couldn't keep in touch.” And Luke gets it. She is used to being alone, to people not being permanent in her life. Neither her parents, nor her best friend, nor her boyfriend, nor anyone else has stayed. So this time to protect herself she decided that he too was going to leave, that it would be foolish to think that he of all possible people would stay.

“I‘m not letting you go baby, you're the only one I would let to boss me around.” The girl laughs when she remembers the millions of times she had to correct him and how he always ended up making her blush in some way, especially when they danced. She can't remember telling him but dancing with him has been the most special thing she has ever experienced. She danced with Damian for years and it never felt like the first time Luke put her long, strong hands on her waist and pulled her close to him. She can only hope to feel that way again one day.

“You are my one and only, firecracker. We’ll find a way, neither of us is a quitter.”

They say that actions are worth a thousand words, and Luke had definitely missed his first chance to show Y/N that he was serious about them by not getting in time to wish her good luck before she left with the group to the city of the competition, a few hours from there. He couldn't help but feel more miserable when he returned to the studio and found a small yellow sheet in his journal.

“You got this, rockstar. I have so much faith in you, so go make me proud. And I don’t want you feeling guilty, okay? I always want to see you shine, baby, no matter what. Your firecracker, Y/N.” Luke laughs softly, dazzled by her attempt to be sweet. If she trusts him so much, why doesn't he return the favor? She assured him they could win and when she says something, she follows through.

Why ruin his life with all of Bobby's ridiculous demands while ditching his girl in the process when he can go sing with her and do band things their way, without selling their soul to the devil. He sits on the couch thinking about what to say to the boys when they both rush in and pick him up, one from his feet and the other from his arms.

“What the hell are you two planning this time?” Luke sounds annoyed but does nothing to stop them from moving him, they throw him into the back of the car and he hits his head, getting him to kick them before they close the door.

"I'm not going to let her down again, I can’t."

"Yeah, and surely we can win, the number is spectacular... do you understand what I did there?”

Alex rolls his eyes and Luke smiles. They drive at full speed to Luke’s for him to take all his things and when he returns to the car, stands thoughtfully by the window.

“What are you doing?!” Alex is not having it, looks like a vein is going to burst from stress any second now.

“Do you think we’ll make it?” Questioned the guitarist, clearly nervous.

“If you stop asking stupid as fuck questions and get in the car, maybe.” Luke pouts but listens and finishes loading everything in the trunk.

The road is full of music to try to calm all the nerves, there was also plenty of time to rehearse the number over and over again, Luke analyzing in his mind every move he had to make, from time to time his bossy girl correcting him in his head. The only difficult thing was probably changing into the costumes, especially for Alex.

They arrive directly to register and the band turns pale when they hear the powerful and breathtaking voice of the singer who is playing her solo right now, a heavenly version of 'Never enough’. By the time they are ready to go, the main number has already started, the imposing woman in the very center of the stage with one of the boys of the group, who although does not have the voice of the guitarist, is making a good effort. Damian is on the other side, staring at her with a superiority smirk and Luke can't help but want to punch him.

“I never realized how anyone could make everything so right, I was so sad, you brought me back.” Alex quickly indicates to him how to enter the stage from the back, and Luke prepares to jump in time for the chorus, taking care of not being seen as he climbs the platform. The song is an old pop-rock song from the 80s, specifically chosen to make the guitarist's voice shine. He and his firecracker sat listening to music for hours until they finally found it, the girl's eyes shining with excitement as she imagined all she could do with the potential of the melody.

“You give me something to believe in, after all that we've been through.” He appears on the platform just in time, the lights and smoke coming out right in his grand entrance. Y/N turns immediately upon hearing her voice and he dances his way towards her.

“The love you give, it all comes back to you. You give me something to believe in, you can see the real me. And here with you is where I'm meant to be.” both singing together the remainder of the chorus and dancing to the beat. The biggest smile he has seen in his girl since he met her on her beautiful face. With that he feels satisfied with his decision, whatever happens, win or lose, it was worth it.

“And here we are together side by side, and nothing seems impossible tonight.” the duet between them is electrifying as always, he puts his hands on her thighs and lifts her with ease, both of them moving and enjoying themselves as if they were the only ones in the place. The dance ends as the first time they danced in the auditorium when he showed her that he was the right option, he holds her with one arm, their lips inches from touching but holding the magnetism back for a few more seconds until finally leave the stage.

As soon as they are backstage Y/N throws herself at Luke, wrapping her legs around his hips and devouring his lips with hers. “Someone missed me.” Luke whispers catching his breath.

"I can't believe you guys did this for me." Expressed the girl as she turns to see her other two friends, still wrapped around Luke who has her tightly held with his huge arms around her butt.

“We trust you as much as you trust us. We know that you will win, you worked like nobody for this moment.” Affirmed the blonde, giving her a small kiss on the forehead.

“I feel like I won already.” And she did. She won the trophy, the money for the demo, friends, and a ridiculously gorgeous rockstar who drove her crazy in more ways than one. All this years working hard were finally worth it... and Damian throwing a tantrum in the middle of the stage felt good too, not gonna lie.

“When are you going to ask me to be your boyfriend? As much as I love you more than anything, a man has to have some pride, you know? We've been together for like 5 months and I'm getting desperate.” They are both lying together on the girl's bed, their legs intertwined as he makes little circles with his fingers on his girl's stomach.

She raises her head resting her hand on his bare chest, her thoughts impossible to read. What are you talking about? I'm waiting for you to ask me!” He chuckles, prepared to tease her. “Bu-”she interrumpts him, pushing the hand that is resting on him to sit down. “Ba-”

“Wait a second, Lucas!” He bites his lip, he never liked being called by his name but for some reason it sounds incredibly sensual when she says it. “Yeah, baby?”

“D- did you say you love me?”

“I did, and I do. Everybody knows you've got me trapped in your claws.” He jokes to make her laugh, and he succeeds.

“I love you too, so much.”

“I know baby.” He winks teasingly at her. “Returning to the topic, you are the most bossy and confident person I have ever met, and you want to tell me that you were waiting for me to take the first step? Doesn’t sound like my firecracker. You literally pretended to be a sunset curve super fan to get my attention.”

"I totally did, I was awesome, first thing next day you were at the auditorium.” She says proud while Luke rolls his eyes with a smile. “But if it makes you feel better, I'm 100% a fan now, and...You are completely right, for once.”

She takes a deep breath, intertwining her fingers with his. “Lucas Patterson, I want you, if we're being honest, probably from the first time I saw you at that Sunset Curve gig we met at. You are annoying, cocky, passionate, and I love you with all my heart. Be my boyfriend... please.”

“There it is, that’s my girlfriend.” His eyes full of lust after hearing that she wanted him from the first night, he draws her closer to him to push his lips against hers, his girlfriend's tongue quickly dancing with his.

"Oh my god, we already talked about this, close the damn window, I don't want to hear it!” The blonde cries from his balcony, the couple can't help but laugh before joining their lips again.

Thank you for reading ✨

Taglist: @writerinlearning, @ghostofmgg @strangerthanfanfiction713 @thebloodthirstyvampress, @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15, @magnet-girl, @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05, @twist3dtinkerbell, @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve, @caitsymichelle13, @ifilwtmfc @luckylouiebug, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01, @lunashadow6955, @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker, @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1 @lukeys-giggle @katie-navarro @crybabyddl @cocopuffs0211 @marvel-ousnesss @txrii @tuttigunner @dpaccione @justalittleweirdoo @mrstodorooki @averyharrypotterlife

#luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #luke jatp #luke patterson #luke patterson fanfic #luke patterson fic #luke patterson oneshot #luke patterson imagines #jatp imagine #jatp fanfic #charlie gillespie imagines #jatp one shot #jatp luke #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie imagine

411 notes · View notes

seraphdarlimg · 3 years

Text

wish I were (pt2)

harry acts like everything is good and dandy but reader sees Heather wearing the sweater

part 1 here

‘heather’ by conan gray WARNINGS - ANGST WORD COUNT - 1,892

A/N: hehe because it was december 3rd, I just had to get this chapter done to post even if it might be a little late but here ya go

____________________________________________________________

My guitar rested on my thigh as i brought my head down to lay on the fret, staring at the blank piece of lined paper in front of me. I sighed, turning my head away and just bathed in the silence of the separate room from the main studio. The weight on my chest might of suggested the frustration out of my creative block, unable to produce words or lyrics for the past weeks. Or that I was progressively losing the will to even pick up an instrument, as strumming the strings took a lot of energy for me to do.

The oversized hoodie I brought kept me warm, but i knew that wasn't satisfying enough. However the idea of wearing one of his hoodies I've place in a closed box in the corner of my apartment hurt too much and that now I'm back in the studio after weeks of trying to avoid coming here at all costs. After the New Year's party, I've done nothing but wallow up in my apartment alone, trying to come up with songs as quickly as possible just so I could get this project done and over with. That proved to be difficult however, especially with Harry trying to call on a normal basis.

"Helllooo bubs, why haven't you been showing up at the studio eh?" "You said at the beginning of this project that I could work at home whenever I want. I'm just taking you up on that offer." "Of course, you'd remember me sayin' that. How've you been love, haven't seen you in a while though." "Fine, just been doing my job." "Well yeah, can't write all these lovely songs without your talent, can I? You gonna come in tomorrow then?"

I hesitated for a second, biting my tongue when I felt my eyes pool up again. "I'll just send a pdf of lyrics to you Harry." "O-oh. Well that would conventionally work... yes but you have to come in tomorrow though." "Why? Just text me what you like and don't like about the verses and I'll fix them." "Bubs you know how I feel about in person collaboration. Plus the deadlines are coming up and it'll be easier and faster to have you in the studio." "Okay." He hesitates this time and I could see his brows furrowed together as well as having a hand on his hip. Most likely wearing lose sweats and the knitted cardigan he's been falling in love with over the months. His hair a bit longer than it was last time I saw him and his pink lips quirked to the side in thought. Maybe the bags under his eyes are gone, has been looking more happier lately. More happier than I could of made him to be over the months. "Are you okay?" "I have to go Harry, I'll see you tomorrow." "Oh see yo-"

He was the first one to greet me when I arrived, and I wanted nothing more than to burst out sobbing when I see his smile. It took everything not to do so, giving him a tight lip smile and quick side hug before sitting down farthest away from him. For the first hour and a half of discussion, I didn't say much and zoned off a lot, tuning in and out of the conversation Harry leaded about a song he had written recently. I felt his glances on me when I turned away, probably sensing my unwillingness to comment so he was considerate enough to not put me under the spotlight in the discussion. In the middle of it, Harry's phone started ringing and he didn't waste a second to excuse himself to answer it. "Hello? Oh hey darling, you almost here?" I froze when he grows a cheesy smile on his face as he walks further to the other side of the studio before telling us to continue without him. I took a deep breathe, not mentally prepared to be in the same room as her. Has she always been coming to the studio or did I just choose to worse day to finally come in? I try to focus doodling in my little notebook, but it grew harder and harder to focus on anything else but the way he crosses his arms and laughs while on the phone with her. From the corner of my eye, it was definite he's completely captivated just hearing her voice and I could just picture the angelic tone of it. I didn't realize I was tapping my pencil till I hear Sarah calling out my name, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Are you okay, haven't seen you in a while." I nodded, putting on a smile. "Yeah sorry, been getting a lot of work opportunities and just a bunch of family stuff that's exhausted me." Sarah gives me a look that resembles one of a mother who knows their child isn't telling the full truth, but she nods and pats my hand. "Completely understandable. But that's exciting, new artists been reaching out to you n' all that?" "Ha surprisingly, considering saying yes to all of them." my smile was growing genuine a little, thinking about how content I was with my career. Being a lyricist and songwriter was a definite risky path to take in terms of stability, but it made me happier knowing I was able to to do. "Oh of course, you can totally do it. Probably wanted to see what all the hype was about when Harry couldn't stop talking about you at every social gathering he's been at." Sarah chuckles, rolling her eyes playfully. "Yeah?" I quickly looked down, feeling my eyes water as the pang in my chest came back. "Mhmm, acts like Thomas and Mitch don't even exist." I laugh lightly at that, fiddling with my fingers as I focused down on my notebook. I found myself in an awkward situation, not knowing how to continue the conversation but knowing I didn't want to try. I love Sarah, but I was close to break down right there if I tried and it was not the place to do so. Not when everyone is trying to meet deadlines and Harry was about to walk in with Heather at any moment. "Hey, I actually have a lot of emails to respond to so I'm gonna be in the other room." I stood up, taking a guitar and my notebook. "Might actually be better for me to focus in." "Sure, we'll let Harry know." I gave her a grateful smile, walking out into the hallway to a different room. I let out another shaky breath, feeling overwhelmed once I was finally alone. But before I could close the door, I hear her. I peak out to see both her and Harry standing at the entrance of the building, huddled close together. "Sorry I forget it gets this cold in LA sometimes." She says, looking up at him while he rubs the sleeves of his sweater that was wrapped perfectly around her. It was a simple orange stripped sweater. A vintage that Harry bought in Vienna and became one of his favorites. It was just a simple polyester sweater, but it became my favorite too. So it was hard to give it back after wearing it that night we kissed, but fuck was it harder to see her wearing it. Now as I sit alone with no sense of motivation to do anything else but wallow in my own pity I thought about a lot of things. I should be angry, be fuming and cursing at Harry for how he's been acting. I should confront him, make him feel as hurt as he made me for choosing her. Or maybe I should hate Heather, despise her for taking the chance I had with him. But deep down I know I couldn't hate Heather. She's such an angel, it wasn't her fault he's still hung up on her. And as much as the image of his arm wrapped around her kills me, I couldn't hate him either for the same reason. She looked prettier in his sweater than I did. "You okay in here bubs?" As if the tears welling up in my eyes and heavy weight on my chest wasn't enough, the sound of knuckles against the door and his voice calling out my name made me almost sob. "Yeah, I'm good. Door's open." I quickly try to compose myself when he enters the room, giving me that warming smile of his. "Just wanted to check up on ya, been quiet since you got here." Harry looks at me with concerning eyes as he places a hand on my shoulder before crossing his arms and leaning against the wall in front of me. Keep your hand on my shoulder, the second it was there all the nerves went away. I wanted to say but instead I fake a smile again, waving it off and shrugging. "Oh no, just have a lot on my plate don't worry." He nods, feeling his eyes on me while I try to avoid his by opening my laptop and skimming through my inbox. "Sarah told me about different singers reaching out to you." He points at my laptop before taking a seat on the chair to the side. I nodded, humming while I typed out quick responses. "Yup, thanks by the way but now I gotta sort out a whole schedule for this year." I took a glance up to see him focused on my song journal on the table in front of us.

“So...you and Heather huh?” The sheepish smile he has tugs my heart strings but I tried to keep from fumbling with my fingers.

“Yeah uhh...” He scratches the back of his neck, keeping his eyes on his hands and looking like a young kid with a crush. “Started talking again and catching up, been working out stuff between us since the party.”

I tilt my head to the side, motioning him to continue. “She’s gorgeous...”

“She’s amazing.”

I finally looked away from him and onto my screen, letting out a little chuckle.

“So you guys are back together?”

“No no, we’re just sort of figuring things out at the moment.” Though it was an answer I was hoping for, the look in his face was none the less comforting.

“Well, hope everything goes great. You guys look perfect together.” I managed to say, going back to typing while he only responds with a nod and hum.

There was silence. Does he not feel it too? Uncomfortable silence was never a thing between us but it was prevalent here. "Not gonna leave early are you though?" He says out of no where and I stopped typing for a sec to give my attention to him. "Not going to ditch me for someone else of course." He says it with a laugh, playing it off like an obvious joke... but the way he looked at me. Part of me wanted to scream at how oblivious and selfish that statement sounded coming from him, as if he has no idea the drastic shift our relationship has taken. But I see the vulnerability in his eyes, sensing the subtext in his question that is practically asking me to stay. Stick by his side and help finish this passion project he's dedicated to put out, not only for his fans but for himself. Be with him to figure out what to do next, even if I would be in a different county or continent and working with someone else. Keep in touch throughout because I've become an important person in his life. Even if that person who used to fill that spot came back, he's still here and asking me to stay with him in a similar sense. It wasn't the kind of love I wanted, but never the less, it was still love from Harry. Did the smile I wear at that moment reach my eyes? When I placed my hand on top of his in reassurance, was the hesitance obvious? Maybe he did notice the little signs, but he took my hand in his anyways and placed it against his heart.

"Of course, 'm always gonna here Harry."

____________________________________________________________

part 3

A/N: guys my heart hurts writing this lol. There’s gonna be one or two more parts of this series, but thank you for reading! feedback is appreciated :)

#Harry Styles #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #one direction #harry styles blurb #heather

328 notes · View notes