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alotofpockets · 5 months

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Soft spot | Daphne van Domselaar

Pairing: Daphne van Domselaar x Nedwnt!Reader

Summary: You're known as a tough person but Daphne is your soft spot. [requested]

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 1k

Over the course of your career you had built up a reputation as a tough person. The reputation had started on the pitch, the fans always seeing your ruthless defending, searching for the limits with every tackle and shove you handed out. The reputation grew when the team started sharing more behind the scenes with the world. Most of your teammates were very touchy and always hugging in one way or another, while you were not a fan of physical contact.

There was just one exception to your toughness, and that was Daphne van Domselaar. She brought out your soft side, more often than not. You were a whole different person when you were around her. So, it was no surprise to your Dutch teammates when the two of you had started dating.

You walked into the conference room where you were meeting with the team before your match tonight, going over the tactics one last time. “Here you go.” You say as you hand Daphne a cup of coffee, and sit down next to her with your own. “What about me?” Daan asks. You shrug, “You know where to find the coffee machine.” The girl simply rolls her eyes and gets up to grab her own cup of coffee.

After the meeting everyone heads to the bus where you take your usual spot next to Daphne. Your pre-game bus ritual consisted of listening to music with your headphones on, Daphne didn’t mind the quiet bus partner, she knew by the end of the drive you would either be cuddled up against her side, or laying with your legs over hers. The latter was the case today, she smiled when you shifted in your seat and looked up at her to silently ask if it was okay. Daphne nodded, and went on with her conversation with Jackie who was sitting in the row next to you. You put your legs over hers and closed your eyes again.

Like usual, you threw everything at the match, making many clean tackles left and right. Your high pressure defending had helped turn the direction of play many times, always being able to send the ball forward to one of the midfielders. The team had worked hard on quick turnovers during training, and you were putting all that hard work to practice during this game.

Your opponents were rushing forward with the ball, and you were defending the player with the ball. She had some fast footwork but you weren’t fooled by her fancy tricks, and managed to kick the ball through her own legs. You smirk as you pick up the ball on the other side of the player, and shoot it to Jackie. Jackie was able to run through the midfield without many players on her and was able to pick out Viv in front of her, delivering her a perfect ball, which the striker shot beautifully into the far corner.

The match continues, and your opponents are even more fired up now as they are behind a goal. Sherida made a hard tackle on her end of the defense line, trying to stop the opposing player from moving forward but was carded for a foul, and a free kick was given.

The free kick was taken and the ball curled around the wall, the ball landed in the crowded box. An opposing player got to it first, effectively turning, and trying a shot at goal. Daphne had to fully extend her arms to block the shot from going into the bottom right corner. She managed to stop the ball from going into the goal, but since it bounced off of her, the ball was back into play. You run to the left side of the goal, knowing that if they shoot in that direction, Daphne wouldn’t be able to make it in time. The keeper is up by the time the shot was taken, but still on the wrong side of the goal. You quickly put your arms behind your back as the ball comes flying in your direction. You jump up as they are going for the top right corner, and manage to head the ball over the goal post.

Daphne jumps into your arms in celebration, and you hold her tight. “That was incredible.” She spoke into your ear, loud enough to be heard over the crowd that was still cheering. “You were pretty incredible yourself.” You kiss her cheek quickly, before you part ways for the corner kick to be taken. A few of your teammates pat you on the back as you walk past them, showing their appreciation for your quick thinking.

The match continued and your team eventually won the match with a score of 0-1, Viv’s goal giving you the win. The score also meant that Daphne was able to keep a clean sheet. An accomplishment that she was proud of but knew she also had you to thank for. So, she posted her celebration with you to her story.

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daphnevdomselaar just posted to their story

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To celebrate the win, you and Daphne went out for dinner. Since you were away with the whole team a lot, you and Daphne had decided to go out for dinner with just the two of you in every new place that you visited for a match. It was a nice way to spend more time together, as well as explore the places you stayed in.

Daphne loved documenting her life through photo dumps on her Instagram, your camp date nights had gotten their own special dump.

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daphnevdomselaar just posted

Liked by daniellevddonk and others

daphnevdomselaar: another camp, another date dump. You know the drill :)

Load more comments

daniellevddonk: SOFTIE ALERT

↳ y/n_y/l/n: shut it

jackie_groenen_14: Cuties

y/n_y/l/n: Why are you exposing me like this...

↳ daphnevdomselaar: 😘

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You might act as if you don’t like her exposing your soft side to the world but in reality you didn’t care what the world thought. Daphne was your soft spot, and you wouldn’t change that for the world. You loved her, and wanted people to see the love that the two of you shared.

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#daphne van domselaar #daphne van domselaar x reader #daphne van domselaar imagine #nedwnt #nedwnt x reader #oranjeleeuwinnen #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #netherlands wnt

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abouttofillhisshoes · 1 month

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Caught up in Fashion - Matty Healy

A/N: something that isnt smut???? applaud me. Also #unedited if there are any errors no there arent

wc: 3.5k

content warnings: bit suggestive, mpind typical cursing, drugs (weed), kissing, matty gets handsy?, he's done way worse

The British public transport system has been an ongoing source of disappointment since the day you learned how to spell the word. Busses that acted like they didn't have places to be, coming too late or just not coming at all, leaving you stranded on the highway in the middle of some city you didn't know the name of, Matty at your side, whining and complaining and being totally unhelpful in general.

This time, however, you had struck gold. Both your buses had arrived on time, making you actually catch the next one and not forcing you to wait around for another, or god forbid, try your luck hitchhiking.

It was a bit loud, the sounds of families on their way to day trips or lunches filling the bus with noise, the occasional baby crying out for its parents. You were sitting at the window seat, your back to the glass as your legs draped across Matty’s, the soles of your shoes slightly blocking the way for other people, but seeing as the two of you were in the second to last row, it didn't actually bother anyone.

It was nearing summertime, the blazing sun making clothes stick to your skin and makeup melt off, no brand of setting spray managing to set it. Matty, instead of being a normal fucking person and wearing short, was clad in his signature black skinny jeans, the only flow of air coming from the giant hole on his left knee.

The two of you had finally found the time (and finances) to go shopping at a mall that had recently opened across the city. You were determined to get there, even if it did take you an hour and two bus connections, Matty insisted that he needed new clothes.

“I need some tops, seeing as you steal all of mine.” you comment, earning yourself a piercing look from Matty, an insult forming behind his lips.

“Fuck off, give me my joggers back and then we’ll talk” he gestures to the pants you were wearing which were, in fact, his. They sat perfectly on your hips, hanging low enough so even your longest tops looked cropped.

“I dare you to try and take them, fucking watch what happens” you threaten him, clutching your pants like he was going to rip them off your legs right then and there out of pure spite. “I look better in them anyway” adding that little comment only made him huff in reply, deliberately turning his head away when you try to give him an apology kiss.

“Fuck you do! I rock everything, especially when it's mine.” you roll your eyes at him, successfully planting a kiss onto his lips. The smile that spreads onto his face is impossible to hide, even if he denies it.

The bus finally comes to a screeching halt, the breaks to sound it makes you cover your ears at the high pitched noise. Matty giggles, his eyes creasing up as he laughs at your misfortune.

“At least I haven't gone deaf from having my music at 100 you knobhead.” he holds his hands up in defeat, pushing your legs off of him to get up, exiting the bus. You latch onto him from behind, letting him lead you over the gap between the door and the floor, catching you in his arms when you pretend to trip, performatively falling in slow motion. His hands grip onto your waist, setting you down onto the hot pavement.

“Smoke?” you nod, walking over to the bench under the bus stop’s roof, the plastic of the seat warm against the back of your thighs as you sit down, leaning against the Fanta advertisement behind you.

Matty pulls out his packet of cigarettes, taking out two and handing one of them to you. A smile spreads onto your face when you see him lighter, your initials decorating the side. He catches your look, running his fingertips over the slightly faded rhinestones and lighting your cigarette first.

You take out your ipod and headphones, gesturing for Matty to take one. Without asking, you put on ‘The Masterplan’ by oasis, quietly singing along to the lyrics as he nudges you in the arm.

“Your music taste is not a shit as it used to be.” he comments, looking almost proud of you. You click your tongue, leaning your head against his shoulder and taking a drag of the cigarette between your fingers. “Seems like you’ve terrorized me so much I finally gave in.” The smoke leaves your mouth as you speak, cheekily smiling up at his deadpan expression, obviously hoping for a different answer.

“Dramatic much?” you kiss his shoulder, playfully biting his arm making him jump at the feeling of your teeth digging into his skin.

“Ow??” you just laugh, collecting your hair and brushing it over your right shoulder, making your position a bit more comfortable.

The inside of the mall is air conditioned, a groan of relief leaving Matty’s lips as the cool air kisses his skin. You take a look around, eyes landing on a store down the giant hallway. Hollister. Matty turns to you and nods, booking it down the corridor in its direction. You hurry after him, his hand dragging you faster than you could keep up.

“It’s fucking massive.” he breaths, stopping right infront of the entrance. Racks filled with piles upon piles of clothes makes the little shopping addict in Matty twirl, completely forgetting the amount of money he had left the house with.

The two of you part ways, going into different sections and rifling through clothes, groaning when your eyes fall on the price tag. You see Matty coming towards you in the corner of your eye, holding something in his hands.

“You like?” he asks, holding a black, floor length floral skirt to his lower half, spinning around in a small circle. It flows around him, the multicolored flowers standing out against the jet black fabric nicely.

“It's cute, it makes you look a bit taller.” you admire him, obviously giddy from finding something he really liked that didn't have a two digit price tag. And it's true, it did make him look taller.

“Not that I need it.” he states, gesturing at his body, standing at a totally average 5’11 (6’ in boots). You decide to tease him a bit, loving watching his grin disappear as you speak.

“Oh you definitely do, you're like an oompa loompa who's managed to escape the chocolate factory.” his jaw drops in disbelief, almost looking genuinely offended.

“Fucking oompa loompa, maybe fix your contour before you come at me.” he shoots back, making a point to wipe at you face, some of the product coming off.

Your hands go to cover your face and you rush to a mirror, absolutely mortified. Upon taking a look at your reflection, you realize he was taking the piss out of you, and that your makeup looked perfectly fine, apart from your eyeliner being a tad smudged. It looked good, nonetheless

“I fucking hate you.” you spit at him, attempting to shove past him, his hands gripping your shoulders stopping you.

“But you believed me, didnt you?”

“Fuck off and die, I hope your scrote falls off.” you can't help but giggle at your own words, biting your lip between your teeth.

“Awwee, but who would keep you happy and satisfied then? Can't make you cum without my precious little friend.” he winks, wrangling his eyebrows at you. You cringe, your nose scrunching up in disgust.

“Don't ever refer to your dick as ‘precious little friend’ again, or I will leave you for George.” George would at least have the decency to not name his dick.

“He’d be a shite shag.” Matty says, matter of factly, like it helped his case. Deciding to try and rile him up in retaliation, you twirl your hair around your fingers, speaking in a dreamy voice.

“But look at the size of him, you know he’s packing at least twelve-” Matty cuts you off with a harsh kiss, both his hands cupping your cheeks. You let out a surprised noise, it getting swallowed up as he slips his tongue into your mouth, running it across your bottom lip.

“I do not want to speculate on the size of my best mate's cock, thanks.” you nod, slightly breathless from the kiss, too dazed to debate him further. You go back to the rack of clothes behind you and Matty walks over to a display of skimpy going-out tops.

“D'you like this on me?” you press a black and pink tube top to your chest, getting Matty’s attention. He takes his eyes over you, smirking as he notices the bottom of the shirt is completely sheer, only a black strip of fabric keeping you from flashing everyone.

“It's hot. You should try it on, give me a preview.” his fingers touch the bottom of the top, running his fingers over the pink mesh. It looks tight, too tight for a bra seeing as it could cling to your body if you decided to wear it.

“You’re such a boy.” you snigger, adding the top to your pile of yes’s.

“Can you blame me?” his arm wraps around your waist, fingers hovering over the curve of your arse, giving it a quick squeeze. You smack his hands away, cursing at him for basically groping you in a Hollister.

He smirks against your ear, attemüting to whisper into it before you shove him off, changing the subject by asking what he had decided to buy.

Matty holds up the skirt from earlier, bragging about how it was “Only nine quid, can you believe that??”

The second item he had picked out was a thin, long sleeved top in none other than leopard print. You giggle at him as he proudly shows it off to you, boasting about how sexy and delicious he would look in it, deliberately having taken a size or two too small.

You pay at the till, and Matty legs it to the changing stall, peeling off this shirt and putting on his new top, letting it ride up to show the low rise of his jeans. He actually looks quite good, even if he gives off ‘old hollywood hooker’ vibes with the top.

His hand intertwined with yours as you walk into a children's store for shits and giggles, looking through the vast catalog of toys and fake makeup.

Your eyes land on a matching pair of kids friendship bracelets, one pink, one blue. Matty asks you what you have, and you show it to him, begging him to wear them with you

“Its cute!” you argue, trusting the cheap pieces of plastic into his hands.

“Its tacky, does not fit my vibe at all.'' He tries to deny you, but the look on your face is too endearing to say no.

“You are the embodiment of the word, look at what you're wearing!” you point at his top, bursting out into a fit of laughter when he pops out a hip, standing with one hand resting on his waist.

“It's fashion.”

“That's one word for it.” you snigger as he reluctantly pays the 1.99 the bracelets cost. He slips his on first, the pink a stark contrast to the otherwise sandy and dark colors of his outfit. The blue bracelet fits perfectly around your own wrist, half of a heart connecting with the half on Matty’s via a cheap magnet.

“Look at us, defying gender roles.” Matty smirks at you, admiring both of your pieces of jewelry.

“Fighting the patriarchy! You did pay for me though, so not completely feminist." His laughter makes a fuzzy feeling spread through the body, an intense feeling of adoration making your heart pound in your chest. Fucking idiot.

The two of you wander around, stopping to window shop in a store you could dream of actually going in, knowing you’d be thrown out in under a minute. His eyes gleam as he sees a proper jewelry store, acting like a child on christmas morning as he flips through the piles of discount earrings at the back of the shop.

“You don't even have pierced ears mate, how’re you gonna wear them?” you snap him out of his little adventure, reminding him of his inability to actually wear the hoops he so desperately wanted to buy.

“I'll go get them pierced then, have Rome do it for me.” Rome was now working on opening an actual shop, finally graduating from piercing people on the beat up sofa in his living room.

“There's a piercing parlor literally there, and it's like five quid.” you gesture to the neon sign next to the till, pointing to a back room labeled ‘Sasha’s piercings’, which was a really shit name if she wanted to attract actual customers.

“Will you hold my hand?” he juts out his lip, pouting at you in a childish manner. Sasha, the only employee (surprise surprise), greets you with a warm smile, asking what you wanted to get done. Matty tells her he wants to get his ears pierced and coughs up the five quid, sitting down onto a red leather chair. It was when she pulled out a piercing gun that he started to look a bit nervous.

“Fuck no, that is not touching my ear.” he squirms away from the lady, a confused look on her face. Matty was a grown man, after all, even if he did act like a behaviorally stunted 8-year old.

“You're so pathetic it's actually quite sad.” you say, urging him to just get it over with, and that he was being a wanker making the employee wait.

“Usually I'd appreciate you calling me that, but genuine degradation isn't really my kink.”

The piercer looks mortified, asking you if you needed a bit of time before the piercing, and you nod, watching her step to the side.

“Its fucking gun.” he mutters under his breath, eyeing the device that set onto a steriel tray on the table next to where he was sitting

“A piercing gun.”

“It has the word gun in it.'' Obviously normal, adult reasoning isn't cutting it, so you went with the next best thing.

“Do it and I'll give you a blowjob.” Matty’s eyes light up at your proposition, a filthy smirk spreading onto his face.

“Fucking sold, go on then.” you're surprised it actually worked, scoffing in disbelief.

“Men are so simple.”

“Says the one who let me finger her in the bathroom of a club.” he shoots back, watching the blush creep onto your face as that night flashes behind your eyes. The smell of that bathroom is ingrained into your mind, no amount of wishing letting it leave your memory.

“Don’t fucking speak about that,” you huff, fucked off that he brought it up. It was genuinely embarrassing, the way you humped him on the dance floor and then dragged him off into a stall. “We were both so off our tits, I died for about 72 hours after.” you shudder at the monster hangover that left you immobile for the days following, having to get Matty to bring you all three meals for a concerning period of time.

“Sureee, just deny deny deny you loved it.” you finally call the poor girl over, hoping she didn't accidentally overhear your crude conversation. Matty whimpers slightly as she brings the gun to his ear, pressing down. Squeezing your hand so hard you were sure your blood flow was cut off, he winced before relaxing, realizing that he was, in fact, losing his mind over absolutely nothing.

The second ear takes a fraction of the amount of time the first ear did, Matty grinning like a maniac at the lack of pain apart from a small sting in his earlobe. You shake your head apologetically at the lady, knowing she was probably rethinking her place of employment.

“And you call me dramatic.” you snigger as she puts in two silver hoops, matty blatantly ignoring her recommendation to start with studs, saying they looked boring. He admires his new accessory in a small hand held mirror, flicking the earring back and forth before answering you. “It did actually hurt! Of course, I took it like the legend I am.” an exasperated sigh leaves your lips.

“Tosser, more like.” he smacks the side of your arm, laughing right along with you.

You had spent almost the entire day there, running around stores, trying on piles of clothes just for the fun of it, feeling like teenagers in an American film. But even you had your limits, and your stomach started to growl as the sky began welcoming traces of night, the sun slowly setting over the horizon.

Matty had spotted a chippy right across the road from the mall, draggin you there to get you something to eat. Both your wallets are almost empty, but you manage to find an old, crumple up fiver behind your expired school I.D. It was just enough to get one large portion of chips, the guy behind the counter generously adding a little extra when he noticed you’d be sharing it.

Your hand clasps his as you trudge up a small hill off the side of the highway, hoping there would be a nice spot to sit down somewhere, away from all the noise. Matty’s inner compass somehow always knew where to go, his intuition sensing it or something. It was weird, but you’d learned to just follow him, knowing it your be worth it in the end

And fuck, was it worth it this time. The hill slowly ended, the top of it nearing as you saw a pile of giant rocks, covered in graffiti. The sun was beautiful, hues of orange and purple painting the sky, clouds looking unreal in the light. He plopped down onto one of the rocks, facing west as you sat next to him, the box of chips on the ground between you.

Matty feels around in his pockets and you raise your eyebrows at him, wondering what he was doing. He grins as he pulls out a spliff from his jean pocket, presenting it proudly like it wasn't the most beat up joint you've ever seen in your life. Still, you were thankful, plucking it from between his fingers and lighting it for him.

“I think I might actually love you, mate.” you place the lit spliff between his lips, thanking his past self for remembering to bring weed, knowing you'll be craving it at the end of the day.

“Of course you do, and for the love of god, stop calling me mate. You’ve quite literally fucked me multiple times, maybe its time to drop it?” he huffs, inhaling the smoke deep into his lungs. His expression changes when he hands it back to you, visibly more relaxed.

“What else would I call you?” Matty scoffs at your question, listing weird, couple pet names off the top of his head.

“Baby, darling, the love of my life. Fucking anything that doesn’t make me feel like im talking to Ross.”

you take a drag, listening to his little rant, nodding along as he rambles. You cough a bit when the smoke hits your lungs the wrong way, your eyes watering.

“Fine, love it is.” you choose at random, only to make Matty stop ruining your high. Groaning, he pushes you, almost making you lose your balance on the rock you were sitting on.

“Love of my life.” he insists, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Sure Matty, whatever shuts you up.”

“I know plenty of ways you can shut me up.” he coos, grinning wildly as his fingers trail up your bare arm.

“God, I forgot you have the sex drive of a fucking bonobo.” you roll your eyes, putting on a display of faux annoyance. Matty giggles at your response, smacking his knee as his laughter grows louder.

“I meant kiss me, but if you wanna-” oh god, he knew you would interpret it as something inherently sexual, especially if it came out of his mouth. You had fallen right into his little trap, his infectious laughter making it hard to even oretend to be fucked off at him.

“Fuck off, giz a kiss.” you mutter, crashing your lips against his. His tongue licks into your mouth, biting down on your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Matty moans into the kiss, his hand gripping the base of your neck as you make out in the orange glow of the sunset, only pulling away to take drags of the spliff, even attempting to shotgun one.

You fail miserably, too high to think straight, let alone get your mouths that close together without one of you kissing the other out of pure instinct. At some point, you move to the ground, laying flat on your back as the warm summer air kisses your skin.

Matty’s shoulder is against yours, your fingers interlocked between your bodies. Neither of you speaks, silently admiring the stars that littered the night sky, glimmering against the darkness of it. Crickets chirp in the distance as the cars become less and less noticeable, a veil of calm draping over the two of you.

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lewisvinga · 1 year

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fight in the stands | neymar jr x fem! reader

requested; yes !

request; Neymar and gf where maybe she gets harrassed in the stands because she’s you know famous

note; im so bad at titles lol , but my requests are closed, meaning i won’t take any rn😩😩guys😩😩 i have a lot rn n i wanna work on them before accepting anymore 😔😔🙏🙏

masterlist !

You regretted getting a normal seat at the stadium instead of taking Neymar’s offer of premium seatings. At first, everything seemed fine. You had a blast cheering for Neymar and PSG. They were winning 2-0. By the end of the first half, there were already arguments starting between the fans.

The arguments continued well into the second half. The other team managed to catch up as time passed. In the last 2 minutes, Neymar manages to score again, securing their win. At first, you were ecstatic for your boyfriend but that feeling ended when you hear more arguments.

You suddenly hear multiple people call your name. They recognized you. Of course they would, you’re a famous model and the girlfriend of Neymar. You knew that it was time to leave so you quickly collect your stuff. You tried to make your way out of your row but people kept blocking you. They seemed to be mad at you for Neymar scoring PSG’s winning goal.

You started to panic as you exited the row. You only had to make it up the stairs to get to the exit and all of it was over.

Neymar was watching from the field. He saw how worried you were and quickly makes his way to where you were, ignoring security calling for him.

“Fuck you and fuck Neymar!” Someone shouts. You felt someone tug on your hair and you tripped down on the stairs. Sharp pain shoots up through your arm. The pain was so unbearable that you couldn’t help but start to cry.

Neymar heard your cries of pain and ran even faster to you “Hey! Get away from her!” He shouted as he pushes people away. He quickly helps you stand up and holds you by your non injured arm. “Come on, meu amor, we have to get out of here.” He whispers to your ear. He holds you close to his chest as he leads you to the exit. Security helped escort the both of you to somewhere safe.

Neymar tried to comfort you, but you couldn’t pay attention due to how much your arm was hurting. He rushes to the hospital knowing that your arm was most likely broken.

You finally made it to the hospital and the doctors had checked up on your arm, confirming that it was indeed broken. They put a cast on it and left the room, leaving you and Neymar alone.

“What were you doing in those seats?” He asks, running a hand through his curls. “Meu amor, I told you that you should take premium seatings.”

You let out a deep sigh, keeping your eyes on the cast covering your arm. “Didn’t think a fight was gonna break out. It was so scary, Ney.” Tears filled your eyes as you remember the events that happened a few hours before.

Neymar quickly sits by your side. He gently grabs your chin, making you look at him. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner, amor. Next time, you’ll get premium seatings. Don’t fight with me on this.” He chuckles as you pout and nod in reply. “I was scared something happened. I’m glad you’re safe now.”

He leans over and pulls you in close, giving you a loving kiss on your lips. “I’ll be there to protect you next time, but let’s hope there is no next time.”

You let out a small chuckle as you rest your forehead against his. “My protector.”

#football imagines #football scenarios #footballer x reader #neymar x reader #neymar headcanon #neymar x you #neymar one shot #neymar jr x you #neymar jr x reader #neymar jr imagine #neymar scenarios #football one shot

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magswrite · 2 months

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prompt: ensure (april 6th). 824 words. @jegulus-microfic. based on 10 things i hate about you.

Regulus thinks his ears are playing tricks on him, at first, when the screech of feedback sounds through the Quidditch pitch, interrupting the usual schedule for Slytherin practice.

He pays it no mind, continuing his hunt for the snitch, eyes scanning the skies for a flicker of gold.

Then the feedback rings away, and it’s replaced by the sound of tapping, a throat clearing, and finally—singing?

“You’re just too good to be true,” the voice sings.

Below him, the chasers scrimmaging come to a stop, mid-air.

“Can’t take my eyes off of you.”

Regulus had intended to keep going—ignore the voice, and focus on his drills—but the sudden halt of his teammates put a bit of a damper on it.

“You’d be like heaven to touch,” it continues. “I wanna hold you so much.”

The voice seems to be coming from the Quidditch announcer’s booth, ringing over the pitch’s speakers. Somehow, the culprit had managed to break in with no-one noticing, though Regulus couldn’t seem to spot a person inside.

“At long last, love has arrived. And I thank God I'm alive,” it rings. Regulus thinks maybe he can see a ripple of magic in the air, upon the bleachers. “You’re just too good to be true. Can’t take my eyes off of you…”

Then, out of thin air, a figure appears upon the spectator seats, a muggle microphone held in their hand. His hand. Regulus, unfortunately, would recognize him anywhere.

Over the loudspeakers, the rest of the song kicks up, and the Quidditch practice seems to halt entirely. Leave it to James Potter to pause the world just to get it to watch him.

“I love you, baby,” James sings, his voice admittedlynot-so-bad. “And if it’s quite alright, I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night.”

He’s dancing atop the closest tower to Regulus—a bit too close.

“I love you, baby, trust in me when I say…”

It’s with James’ hand extended forward, pointing up towards Regulus’ bit of sky, that he realizes James is singing it to him. To Regulus.

“Oh, pretty baby…”

Regulus pretends his stomach doesn’t flip at the thought of James calling him pretty, and instead chooses to block out the rest of the song as he drifts closer to James upon his broom.

“Now that I've found you, stay…”

Salazar, Regulus thinks, nothing could be more embarrassing than this. He can practically feel the eyes of all his teammates glued to him, watching the scene with prying eyes.

“And let me love you, baby…”

Regulus makes the decision in a split-second, swiftly landing upon the row of bleachers James is dancing on, his shirt horribly red amongst the sea of Slytherins.

James finishes. “Let me love you…”

The song cuts out suddenly, and for a moment he and James are plunged into silence, a wide grin spread across James’ face, before Regulus interrupts it.

“Are you crazy?” Regulus asks, voice incredulous.

The smile on James’ face dims slightly.

“What the hell are you doing in my practice?”

James’ eyes narrow. “Your practice?”

“The last time I checked, I was Slytherin’s team captain,” Regulus sighs. James blinks back at him. “What are you doing here?”

He rolls his eyes. “Why’d you have to say it like that?”

“Say it like what?”

“Say it all aggressive,” James answers. “I’ve pure intentions, I swear.”

Regulus raises an eyebrow. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

Across from him, James shuffles his feet, as though he’s…nervous, or something. He’s breathing a bit heavily, and Regulus can see that the song took a bit of James’ energy.

“Promise. Very pure.”

At that, Regulus tilts his head to the side, an invitation to continue. He’s willing to hear James out, so-long as he doesn’t disturb his Quidditch practice for longer than necessary.

“Go out with me.”

Regulus turns on his heel.

“Wait,” James interrupts. “Just—hear me out.”

As James should have anticipated, Regulus continues walking.

“Or—don’t,” James says, catching up next to him.

“I’ve no interest in going out with you, Potter. What, did you think your little stunt would ensure you a date?”

James groans. “Godric, it’s James. And what’s one date. I mean, how are you going to say no, when you hardly even know me?”

Again, Regulus rolls his eyes. “Like this,” he states. “No.”

Next to him, James stiffens. “Fine. If you don’t go out with me, I’ll keep singing.”

For a moment, Regulus hesitates. He really does not want to re-live James’ serenade, but he also thinks James is bluffing. He keeps walking, almost reaching a good spot to re-mount his broom.

He’s bluffing, Regulus thinks. Has to be.

That is, until James taps the microphone again, and feedback whines through the pitch. He only just clears his throat before Regulus is whirling around, cutting him off.

“—Fine,” Regulus spits. “It’s a fucking date.”

The smile upon James’ face could blind a city.

#wanted 2 do this scene with jeg <3 #one of my fav rom coms #jegulus #sunseeker #starchaser #regulus black #james potter #james x regulus #regulus x james #marauders #jegulus microfic #microfic

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slapthebass · 2 months

Text

EUROPE TOUR24 FROM DEPRESSION TO [mode of Withering to death & UROBOROS] - Live reports (Warsaw + Paris)

Warsaw - Progresja 19/03/24 (mode of WTD)

Travelled to Poland on the 16th, we had mixed weather during the week-end but it was luckily quite sunny (albeit cold-ish) while we queued outside the venue! My friend and I had Priority upgrades for this show so we arrived around 14:30 & waited right next to the VIP queue. Venue logistics for the queue(s) were a bit fuzzy at first* but we got our laminated passes around 16:00 (just after the VIPs got theirs + goodies) then waited for a bit after 18:00 when the VIPs entered the building. Diru/prod staff keeps a printed list of VIP/priority passes holders and distributes passes and goodies by checking the names.

*Fans were better organised with sharpies and unofficial waiting numbers :)

We went in and waited (again :) ) in the pit for 1h, behind the caution tape separating the VIP from the rest of the room. This allowed us to get some merch at the stand, then at 19:00 the security guards lifted the caution tape and we managed to get nice spots at the 2nd & 3rd rows in front of Die's mic. We waited again for another hour while the general attendance ticket holders entered the venue, then the show started around 20:20 (a bit late because of a technical issue with Die's guitar apparently, that had all their technicians running around looking stressed out), without any intro if I remember correctly, maybe because of said technical issue (but there were Diru remixes being played through the speakers during the whole time we waited inside).

I was unfortunately right next to an annoying (& bulky) man who kept pushing me & other fans around the whole time (I fought for my life the whole set and almost fell when the members entered the stage), but otherwise the show was very nice, it was great seeing them live for the first time even though it felt quite unreal! WTD is not my favourite album but it was still amazing to hear the songs live and the audience was really into it <3 I could see Die very clearly, Toshiya also came around a few times, as well as Kaoru in the end, but my view of Kyo and Shinya was a bit blocked. Die wore his usual tights with a black sleeveless top and red jacket; Shinya had a flowy white shirt as always; Kyo sported a simple black t-shirt & track pants (?) with a nice white make-up on the top half of his face; Toshiya wore the black siren dress (I almost died seeing it with my own two eyes) with thigh-high boots (not the same pair as in the 2024 Yurameki PV though, they had bulky heels instead of stilettos heels for practical reasons obviously :D), and Kaoru wore a black suit with a white shirt.

They all looked a bit jetlagged, having landed in Poland only the day before the 1st concert, and Die was breathing quite heavily during Akuro no oka in the end! The show ended quite abruptly with Akuro no oka, I was expecting Rasetsukoku as they tend to end most concerts with it but they all left the stage (Kaoru, Die and Toshiya being of course the last to leave after throwing picks everywhere).

On a personal note, I was overjoyed the finally see the brown ESP bass which is heavily featured on WTD songs <3

The setlist: https://www.setlist.fm/setlist/dir-en-grey/2024/progresja-warsaw-poland-6baa32c2.html

The show ended around 22:00, it took a while for everyone to leave the venue!

Warsaw - Progresja 20/03/24 (mode of UROBOROS)

We had VIP upgrades this time & arrived around the same time as the day before, to wait with other fans under a nice sun :) Logistics were better than for the 1st show, with barriers already in place and 3 visible queues (VIP/Priority at the front + GA at the back of the 1st two lines). We heard reports & anecdotes from the previous day's VIP meet & greet and were 'warned' that Kyo had a paper bag on his head, so that saved us some awkwardness later :').

Staff also came while we were waiting, to check the names/tickets and distribute laminated passes & VIP goodies. We got a nice cotton bag, a fan, and an enveloppe to protect the postcards distributed by the group members. This time we got both a laminated pass and a wrist bracelet, to avoid cheating with passes from the day before. Staff also warned us no to take pictures/touch them during the M&G, then we entered the venue around 18:00 as expected. People queued in the stairs then before the doors of the main room upstairs (some went directly to the merch stand while we waited here), then the doors opened and we went inside one by one in a continued file, to meet the members and get the postcards. It was all very quick, I was a bit confused because they stayed in a quite dark area and I almost didn't recognize Kaoru who was first in line, oops. We didn't really had time to speak with them so I just took the signed postcards while thanking each of them; after Kaoru was Die with big sunglasses, Kyo with a paper bag on his head, Shinya with a mask on and Toshiya with sunglasses (he was the most smiley of them all and looked really nice and patient!). They were not yet wearing their stage outfits/makeup (except maybe for Kyo under the bag I guess?), and there was a gift box right next to the table to leave stuff for them.

Then we rushed to the stage and got 1st/2nd row spots, right between Kyo's platform on the left and Die's mic on the right! We waited again for two hours while speaking with nice fans from Romania who were right next to and behind us (hi if you're reading that!).

The show started on time with a nice intro video; it started with Vinushka, which is one of my favourite songs so I was really ecstatic to hear it live **. Kyo had a nice skull make-up which was really impressive with the visuals displayed on the screen! Then everything went blurry & heavy really fast haha, Uroboros really has to be experienced live at least once! HYDRA -666- & Reiketsu Nariseba in particular were especially impressive, they put them at the end of the main set to try and kill us I think :') (I was lucky enough to record the Toshiya-Die interaction during Reiketsu!). One calmer moment was Inconvenient Ideal, during which both Kaoru & Die went AWOL for a while (Kyo seemed to be looking for them at the beginning).

Not that the encore was softer, it started deceivingly 'calmly' with Dozing Green, then it was chaos again with Stuck Man, T.D.F.F. and Eddie back to back. Akuro no oka was again the last song of the encore/show, but they all looked less tired than the day before even though the show was more intense!

The audience was enthusiastic once again and we got pushed a lot from behind, but it was an overall great show.

Kyo left the stage first as usual after saying bye-bye, then Shinya briefly went on the platform to throw his drumsticks before leaving. Kaoru, Die and Toshiya stayed for a bit, throwing picks and water, and I managed to get one of Toshiya's bass picks!

The setlist: https://www.setlist.fm/setlist/dir-en-grey/2024/progresja-warsaw-poland-6baa32c2.html

We took again a while to leave the venue, and headed to the merch stand to get more stuff (WTD/Uroboros lucky charms, stickers and postcards with cute drawings of the band members as monsters enjoying their trip to Europe <3).

Paris - Bataclan 22/03/24 (mode of WTD)

After a day of respite to travel back home, we headed to the Bataclan concert hall early in the afternoon to queue. I was a bit nervous as I'd never been to this venue before despite living in Paris, and its name was of course associated with dark memories from the 2015 terror attacks, but in the end the excitement to see Diru live again was greater than my anxiety :)

We had Priority upgrades and waited in the queue that was already in place; everything seemed quite well organised at first with three delimited lines but it ended a bit messy in the end with the VIPs moving to another line on the other side of the sidewalk, Priority upgrades members not knowing where to wait, etc. Luckily the weather was nice and sunny, and we waited more or less patiently until staff came with the laminated passes around 16:00. The VIPs got inside the venue a bit before 18:00, then the Priority upgrades; we waited again behind a caution tape inside the concert hall, which was then lifted at 19:00 and we managed to grab nice spots on the left side of the stage this time, I was at the barrier (1st row) right before Kaoru's mic and with an amazing view of Toshiya & Kyo!

There was a support artist this time, a French DJ who did his best to entertain us but I must admit we weren't really into it as we were waiting for the main set to begin. It wasn't that bad but I'd have preferred to wait with the Diru remixes like in Warsaw!

Unlike the 1st day in Warsaw, we had the intro music + video just before the band entered the stage (Die in red&white, Shinya in white, Kyo in black with a touch of eye-liner, Toshiya in the white dress and Kaoru in a steampunk-ish suit and vest **). Mode of WTD was great in Warsaw but it was wild in Paris, the audience sang everything loudly, cheered & clapped and the band seemed to really appreciate the vibe :)

It was the first time I really saw Kaoru so close (except for a few appearances on the right side of the stage in Warsaw) and it was amazing to see him play and make faces at the crowd & cameras, he really knows how to motivate people by (lovingly) yelling at them \o/

There was a funny moment during Akuro no oka in the end, when Toshiya almost began his bass solo too early with a single "klonk" and looked sheepish for a second (Kaoru was like "erm, i'm not finished yet mate" while still playing the guitar :D). I recorded the whole song but my phone mysteriously freezed right at this point so we concluded that Toshiya is actually a telepath and erased it with his preternatural powers :').

A very nice evening overall, it was the perfect combination of great songs & performances from the band + overjoyed participation from the audience! And the crowd was both enthusiastic and very chill pushing-wise on our end, so that was a nice respite from the Warsaw shows physically speaking :)

The setlist: https://www.setlist.fm/setlist/dir-en-grey/2024/le-bataclan-paris-france-3aa096f.html

Paris - Bataclan 23/03/24 (mode of UROBOROS)

THE BEST CONCERT EVER

(Sorry, this needed to be said first).

4th (and last :'( ) show of the tour for us, so we hoped it would be great and we were not disappointed!

The queue outside was incredibly chaotic: despite being more or less organised the day before, it was a mess this time and nobody really knew where to wait. In addition, the weather was atrocious and we got rain showers, a chilly wind *and* a freezing hailstorm during the afternoon, everybody ended up soaked with chattering teeth for the remainder of the waiting time... But the VIPs finally went inside around 18:00, then us (Priority upgrades again) around 20 mn later.

After the caution tape was lifted, we went to the right side of the stage and had a nice spot in front of Die's mic once again! Then the GA ticket holders went in and the room quickly got quite warm, before the support act even started. It was the same DJ as the previous evening but the audience was a bit more into it this time.

The band entered the stage around 20:25 like the other days, with intro song + video again. There was a technical issue with the projected images on the screen during at least 20 mn, the visuals for Vinushka were really blurry and we also saw a computer error message during the following songs, but it got fixed at some point and didn't stop us from enjoying the show: from Vinushka to Bugaboo, everything was already wild but the band + crowd went really insane after that until near the end of the encore: Doukoku to Sarinu, HYDRA -666-, Gaika, Reiketsu Nariseba... the end of the main set was even wilder than the first time, they left us no time to breathe and we were all screaming, headbanging and jumping everywhere. Kyo looked really satisfied and apparently parted the crowd in two at some point (this is from another live report i read), the audience went wild and the security staff had to douse us with water to avoid more faintings (they had to evacuate at least three people from the pit from what i saw). I almost didn't take pictures this time, except for a few during the calmer songs and interludes because i just couldn't move for anything else than jumping up and down :')

We were already almost dead on our feet at the end of the main set, and the encore finished us, it was as wild as the main set but we managed to find some unexpected resources within us to scream and jump some more! Akuro no oka was a welcome and moving respite at the end (no bass solo mishap this time, a certain bassist was focusing haha), I personally wouldn't have survived another song like the rest and had to sit down after the show ended to re-learn how to breathe properly :') Luckily the venue staff took pity on us and put the AC on during the encore, so we barely managed not to pass out from heat exhaustion...

Then another great time at the end when the band members stayed on the stage: Kyo left quickly as usual but Shinya stayed a second longer than the other nights and threw not only his drumsticks but also a drumskin (??) like a frisbee in the crowd, then the usual suspects Kaoru, Toshiya and Die loitered for a while, throwing picks and smiling at the crowd <3 They looked like they didn't want to leave and neither did we!

The setlist: https://www.setlist.fm/setlist/dir-en-grey/2024/le-bataclan-paris-france-1baa7d90.html

Gear

Don't think you can get out from a gear overview! For both albums/shows combined, we got:

Kaoru:

ESP D-KV 7str [Nothing]

ESP D-KV custom (blue JZH)

ESP D-KV 薰 custom (greenish/yellowish DKV - tag to be updated)

Die:

ESP D-DR 7str (lava D-DR)

ESP D-DR (red ESP)

ESP D-DR-300 (red mesh)

Morris S-custom D (acoustic black)

Toshiya:

ESP D-TR [RU-DRIVE Arch] (the brown one)

ESP D-TT [TRICK STAR] 00 (the black one)

ESP D-TT [TRICK STAR] 04 (striped blue)

Shinya:

Remo + Signia drumkit (it seems to be his default drumkit for abroad tours, maybe not to damage his usual Pearl one ?)

Sabian cymbals (probably as I didn't manage to take clear pictures of the brand)

Aaand that's it, thanks for reading all that! :)

#kaoru #toshiya #die #kyo #shinya #dir en grey #y: 2024 #s: EUROPE TOUR24 FROM DEPRESSION TO [mode of Withering to death]#s: EUROPE TOUR24 FROM DEPRESSION TO [mode of UROBOROS]#live report #for reference

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tanglepelt · 1 year

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dc x dp snippet? idea? not too sure....

Essentially amity park is a front. The whole town was designed to recruit member for an evil group. The end game to destroy the justice league. My brain took the idea and ran with it. I may continue this. I may not.

Amity Park had always been a strange place. For as log as anyone could remember. A gimmick, a spooky town. It played its role perfectly. No one really looked into it. No one saw the mad scientist or weapons facility as odd. Who would ever think to investigate a tourist trap. The showier they were the more believable. The Fenton’s were assets at keeping tourist gullible, their driving, and obsession sold the show. Keeping the tourist distracted and money coming in. Who would notice the laser watches, they just looked normal. Any ghost attack was just a show. Any damage done and its fixed the next day as if It was planned. The town had was obviously committed to there “haunted” town.

Ghost hunters in amity just made sense. Walking around with weapons was a normal and not suspicious. Locals didn’t care and anyone else thought it was part of the gig. The bigger the dramatics the more they could get away with. With all the chaos and attacks the tourist would be distracted.

It let them track anyone who came into town. They would check in visitors with the guise of making sure they stayed in the living world. Waivers had to be signed or there was no entry permitted.

No one to see how all the kids were more observant, no one to see the the gym coach or classes, no one to see the experiments, and no one to notice the secret town meetings while the children slumbered.

The meetings discussing the children and how they’ve advanced. Who needed to be terminated, who was improving and who would soon be integrated into the loop. Every year they discussed the first-year students. It was there last chance to become incorporated or “move” after high school. They couldn’t risk any of them leaving the town unless they were in the loop.

After all of if the kids thought their schooling was normal, they’d never question it. The president challenge was harder then most. Why would an average school require flips off the bars or the ability to scale a rope to the roof if a building. The last two years of high school centered around obstacle courses, agility and parkour in gym.

An amity child leaving without being in the fold could be catastrophic. It would only take one to alert authorities for a slight inconvenience. Authorities could be paid to look the other way or easily put down. A hero however would be a headache to deal with. This town was the center of there recruiting. It was do or die.

Now the organization will admit the ghost were a welcomed surprise. A front row sear to watch the progress the kids had. They expected the jocks or even geeks to manage it the best. The seniors to take arms and manage the threat at the very least. The oddball trio was not what they had wanted or expected.

Those three were the problem students after-all. One so into technology it would be hard to keep him in line. The network was heavily blocked a monitored but using him was an issue. He had nearly bi-passed there security on accident. Imagine if he knew what was going on. Then the goth, the activist. She was too much an individual, free thought and radical views. They’d have to break her spirit. Then there was Danny Fenton.

He had promise in the beginning. Well rounded. Wasn’t so caught up in improving others as his sister. Held good grades through elementary and through middle school and was the golden candidate until the previous summer. No longer set to focus on study’s but off with his friends.

As Sam had grown falling away from their potential, she dragged Danny and Tucker with her. Both now had more individual thoughts and opinions straying from his parents. His grades had dropped even before the ghost. Just to A- or so. Attempts to steer them away from her only brought them closer.

If they couldn’t get sam in line they’d have to cut there loses. They’d lose a good potential hacker, the masons would need a new heir someone they could actually mold to gain more funds and business, and they’d lose a potential leader or scientist.

Cutting just Sam would have led to problems. They had tried. Sam was abruptly moved for a week to see what would happen. The guise a business trip. Danny and tucker given no notice. The two took matters in their hands and hunted for her. They nearly discovered the truth of the town. Only once the Fentons explained she was on a trip did they calm down. The trio were deemed lost causes. They were set to bet terminated.

Two weeks before the plan was set to eliminate them the ghost appeared, and it was them who took charge. Now the ghost was always planned, the Fenton’s had been close to opening the portal. So close to new weapons and infinite power supply. Nothing they had done activated the portal. But the problem trio when left alone somehow got it working. The power from the portal shorted the cameras in the lab and they were unable to see how.

Sam and tucker were out on the field. They were learning at a rapid pace. With them constantly fighting and winning. The three were considered candidates again. They’d still have to break the girl, it was worth the effort now. Add the fact they had a viable solution now.

The newest hero of amity park. Phantom.

Phantom himself would simple a ghost to take care of. Allowing the Fenton to play around for now. What fun was a hunt to them if they couldn’t play with there prey. Once it was time to rid themselves of the pest the Fenton’s could truly hunt.

For now, phantom was getting Sam and Tucker more suited for future missions. He could keep “his” team for now. Danny was obviously the one with the plan. He was never with them but had to be the main contact with phantom. Whenever Danny was around phantom would show to clear his messes.

The surprise reunion with Vlad confirmed their suspicion. Not to mention the Youngblood incident. Danny led his schoolmates to board the ship and free their parents. Only once the ghost shield was down did he go and contact phantom to come handle the rest.

An accident would be in order. It was only a matter of time until the trio grew stagnant and needed more focused teaching. The masons were still an asset they just would not be allowed to be a caretaker again. Jeremy and Pamela mason still were the main source of income. The two were good the schmoozing. Sam would just have to manage field work with her business persona as her “grandmother” had. The Fenton’s were non-negotiable and a necessity to the group. If the need arises, they be allowed to raise another.

The foleys would work. They were good caretakers but served no other purpose to the group. Framing phantom for there deaths should be enough to ignite a need for revenge and break the group apart. Introduce a new fourth to them after the shock wore off.

Valerie had grown as well. She would be brought into the loop soon. The red huntress would be an asset. Her original purpose no longer mattered. Valerie would be easy to recruit. All it seemed to take was some money and a reason to dislike a group. All it took for her to despise ghost was her father losing his job, one of the groups smartest moves yet.

Good thing that reason was already in motion. The anti-ecto acts were set to be announced tomorrow. The justice league would publicly denounce the acts within an hour. They had no reason to condemn an entire species that had shown no sign of aggression. Most ghost weren’t even visible to the public.

With Amitys gimmick who would believe the reports of supposed ghost destruction. Viral videos of it just to be explained through special effects. Keep the rest of the world believing the gimmick and the young in amity only seeing the disbelief.

The justice league would be the key to their own demise. Events have been ruined, the children had been infected by the ghost flu, Sam had been kidnapped by a ghost, and the constant attacks on the school. This was the wedge they needed to keep them in line. To bring them into the fold. The towns caretakers would make sure any opinions of the hero’s would be bad. The only mentions of the hero’s permitted of the hero’s online would be failures and misunderstandings.

Citizens of the infinite realm and ghost were two very different species. Not that the children would ever be allowed to know.

Soon the justice league would fall.

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc #dp dc crossover #dp x dc crossover #justice league #if anyone likes this idea take it an run with it #the presidential challenge in micro management made my brain think #it went hard #but like the town is odd #I’m pretty sure the only time cops are in the show is when freak show is happening #the last episode doesn’t count. cause it didn’t happen #the high schoolers are fit #like they had to do a flip off the rope or bar (my mind blanks)#sam’s grandmother is amazing #granny who can fight #i don’t have a name for the group #i blame my sleep pills and a root canal for this actually being written #y’all take care of your teeth today #it’s mentally taxing but worth it if you can do it #the Giw are meant to make the problem look like it’s being taken seriously #there is a reason they are bad at there job #no one can tell me Maddie mrs black belt isn’t purposefully not capturing phantom #Im thinking all the kids could be kidnapped. add to the drama #idk maybe some are hero’s kids #the trio won’t stand for it #Valerie won’t stand for it #she deserves to be redeemed #she could of had such a better arc after the Danni incident

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seris-circle · 1 year

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Keep It Under Wraps

Drew Starkeyxfemreader

Summary: Y/N and Drew, while on press in preparation for season 3’s release, try to hide a big secret.

Warning: Fluff, swearing, pregnancy

You were preparing for the interview at the Vanity Fair studio with Drew and the fellow OBX cast. You were styled in a lilac blouse that hugged your chest, accentuated by the pregnancy hormone enhancements raging through your body for the last 4 months. Trying to hide the bump for as long as you could in order to keep attention on the release of the new season rather than yourself, you paired this top with a high-wasted white pant that flared as it went from your waist down to your ankle. Of course, you intended to match Drew. Now newly engaged and with a baby on the way, you were the power couple on set.

You sat at the makeup vanity, staring at your figure, feeling like you looked so big compared to the rest of the ladies. Face puffy, boobs huge, and waist growing, no one couldn’t deny that you were with a child.

As you huff in a deep breath you feel arms wrap around your waist, rubbing your bump.

“You know you are the most gorgeous angel on this earth?” Drew said, laying a sweet kiss on your ear lobe. “I think even more gorgeous thanks to this little one”

“You’re just saying that because you have to,” You say giggling to yourself as you look into his eyes through the mirror. “I’m huge everywhere. My clothes don’t fit and I can barely breathe with the heartburn I have right now”

“I don’t think the growing features are too bad on you” He responded staring directly at your cleavage which was right in his face.

You smirk and turn around to face him. “Thank you, but keep it down for now. We have to get through this interview without it being completely obvious.” You say, his face dropping in the process.

“I don’t know why we have to keep hiding this anymore. Everyone knows we are together, why can’t they know about this exciting part of our lives?” He said, slightly raising his voice.

“Because, I don’t want to take the attention away from the show or the others. This is a big moment for all of us that needs to be shared. I promise I will stop hiding it when it is appropriate.” You said, holding his hands and reassuring him that his excitement can be released soon. You knew exactly when and where you were going to drop the bomb to the public since your friends and family already knew the news. “Now come on, we have to get over there” pulling him to the set for the interview.

There were two rows of chairs set up for the 9 of you. You decided to take a seat in the back in order to dry and conceal your waist from the camera view. Drew took a seat right next to you, grabbing your hand to calm you down.

“Who’s next?” Drew said attempting to kick the note card up into the air. Since you had sat next to him, it was now your turn. When walking over, drew managed to stay in the way of the camera’s view of you until you sat down and used the cards to block your bump. Once he was seated, you began.

“Drew isn’t allowed to answer any of these, he’ll get them all right!” JD exclaimed looking directly into the camera. You all laughed while drew put his arms up in surrender

“Ok… First question. Where and What did I study in college?” You ask your friends. Drew smiled at you because he knew right away but stayed quiet for the sake of the others.

“Biology! You wanted to be a doctor and deal with cells right?” Maddy yelled.

“Yeah, but where?” you followed.

“I don’t know” She responded, shrugging her shoulders.

“Providence?” Madison and JD asked in unison. You shook your head. The rest of the cast looked lost

“It was Salve Regina University, a small private school in Rhode island, so you were close with providence,” you said pointing to them.

“Next one! What was my childhood into adulthood cat’s name? AKA the Love of my life, sorry Drew” you said smiling, blowing a kiss to drew as he pretended to be heartbroken.

“I think we all know this” Chase said looking around at the whole cast

“Yeah, it's not like she talks about her all the time” Drew gocked. “So on three, 1…2…3”

“Willow!” The cast said in unison, making you smile.

“Y/N’s ride or die was that cat! I’m surprised if anything else in life would make her as happy” Maddy joked. There was something though and someone. Although you loved that cat, your soulmate was Drew and your new addition was a dream come true.

“Stop! You’re going to make me cry” you said and you were right because those hormones could start any tear at the drop of a dime. You noticed that drew threw you a soft look as the group began to laugh, you included. His gaze distracted you for second which brought you back to reality.

“Last question… “what is my special talent?” You raised your eyebrows and smirked

The group began to think, whispering between each other .

“I’m going to say ventriloquism” Austin said with some confidence, erupting a pool of laughter from the group. “No, but seriously, is it?”

“No, why? Do I look like I am?” You said nervously laughing. The group just made a suggestive look signaling that “anything is possible” vibe.

“Wait! I know!” Rudy yelled from his seat. “You know sign language” he continued.

You turned you card to reveal that he was correct.

“Ding Ding Ding” you said with a talk show accent. Rudy began to make finger guns towards the air as Chase pretended to make it rain cash on him.

Your turn was now over and now it was Chase’s turn. you asked the production team at VF to cut you walking back to your seat, they respected that and you went on with the interview, keeping your legs and arms crossed.

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You had done so many interviews at this point, luckily some took place on the same day so you didn’t have to plan outfits that set an illusion on your body. It was now the night of the premiere in LA for OBX and you were getting ready to walk the carpet. Tonight was the night you were going to make your pregnancy public. You were going to do this by wearing a curve-hugging pink midi dress. It enhanced your tits and ass, while also putting the growing bump on full display.

You walk down the stairs into the living room of the house you and Drew shared. You joined him and his mom there. He was facing away from you talking to her so when you entered, her face lit up. He turns and sees you, mouth agape from your appearance.

He walks over and engulfs you in an embrace. Coming up to peck your lips.

“You continue to surprise me. You don’t know how happy and excited I am that everyone gets to know about our little babe.” He said smiling down at you, staring into your eyes. You smile back and then you take his lips into yours once more before you leave for the premiere.

Drew steps out of the car first, assisting his mother out, then you. As you step out and get close enough for the public to take you in, people begin to scream.

“OMG! Congrats” a fan yells as you walk by. A smile forms with all the positive responses you are receiving. As you get to the center for photos, you meet Madelyn.

“YAY, Mama!” She says taking you in. She pokes your bump for a photo.

As the night went on, you took photos with the cast and by yourself. Finally, you were met with the interviewers implemented into the carpet.

“Hi Everyone, I’m here with Y/N Y/L/N at the premiere of Outer Banks season 3. How excited are you for people to watch?” She asks, directing her mic towards you.

“I am very excited for everyone to watch. I know the fans have been waiting and I can tell you that they will not be disappointed.” You said smiling and nodding as the interviewer took the mic back to her mouth.

“Can we talk about you tonight and the news you may have to share?” She said referring to your growing bump that was hugged by your garment.

“What? This?” you said into the mic. “I have become a competitive eater and this is my proof from the last tournament I won…Just kidding. Yes, I am pregnant. About 4 months now and I am excited as ever.” You continued, your cheeks heating up with happiness.

“That is amazing, congratulations.” The interviewer stated and you mouthed thank you in response. “Now, I know you weren’t pregnant when filming, but if you were, what would have been one stunt that you would've backed out from because of how intense it was?” She continued.

“Ummm…Katie doesn’t really get into all the stunts and stuff. but she does a lot of dancing on tables at the boat club and that can be a bit dangerous in stilettos so maybe that.” You shrugged.

“Amazing. We love a party girl. Last question, what is one word you would use to describe season 3?” She asked

“Romantic” You say with a smirk. “Yeah, get ready to get your heart pumping with lust ya hopeless romantics” you looked directly into the camera.

“We will keep a look out for all of those hints and you on the new season of Outer banks, thank you”You shake her hand and then make your way into the theater.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————

The night had come to an end and you walked out of the theater with drew, hand in hand. You were getting Jodi situated in her Uber to make sure to had made it back to her hotel as Drew sat talking to Austin. It should have been him taking care of his mother but he had drank more than enough for the both of you so his sense of direction was off, but you didn’t mind. Jodi was so kind and loving that she was now more family to you than just your fiancés mom. As you waved her off, you returned back to Drew in a fit of laughter.

“Oh don’t you look happy” you said as you walked up to him. He pulled you between his legs as he hugged your waist.

“Ooooh I am baby. Everyone is. We got to tell them about the baby and the show and-“ he stopped talking as he nuzzled your bump. “Mmmm, I love you” he said in a dazed tone. Austin took this as a time to leave as he tried to give you a side hug and patted drew on the shoulder.

“I love you too and I’m happy about this secret being lifted of my shoulders” you responded as you ran your fingers through his hair. “Come on let’s get home, I’m exhausted” you backed up, pulling him to his feet. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, giving you a kiss. You could taste the whiskey on his lips as they left yours.

“You look so good tonight, have I told you?” you nod as you lock eyes with him. “Yeah, but like really good. More than normal now” he responded then went to kiss your neck. You didn’t know why, but Drew loved your pregnant body, drunk or sober. Maybe it was that it was something that just brought you closer together, that you were carrying his child.

His state would have just lead to way too much pda so you tried to stop before he took it too far.

“Thank you, but we should save this until we get home” You said pulling him up to look at you. He pouted but obliged as you turned around to get to the car. You were guiding him to the get in but he stopped half way to yell;

“I am going to be a dad! I got the most sexiest gorgeous women pregnant! Whooo!” He yelled out to the world, not many people around but he hoped someone would hear. You just laughed and pushed him into the car. You followed in and took you seat next to him.

“I really am excited, but nervous too” he said pulling you close to him. He threw his arm around you and you laid your head in his shoulder. “But we’ll be great! I know it!” He reassured as he squeezed you tighter.

“I hope so” you responded looking up at him. He smiled back and you kissed him sweetly. The rest of the ride home was quiet as you just enjoyed each others embrace.

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #obx3 #outer banks

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bi-ss · 3 months

Text

~ Ties that bind ~

Bucky x reader- arranged marriage.

Summary: You agreed to arrange marriage when you were little, after seeing who you are to marry. You wish you could go back.

Warning- drinking? None i can't think of.

(Spelling may be bad as I'm very dyslexic sorry in advance)

You've been staying in your bestfriends apartment for 2 days now, you've just had more time to think about what will become of your life, you didn't get as many texts from James as you thought when you went to bed around 11PM but oh lord when you woke up it wouldn't stop going off, in all truth your phone died and you fell asleep with it on charge.

"Omg, would you turn that off.. It's 6:30, i love you, but not that much.." your friend groaned as she walked over to your phone to turn it off seeing you still in your make shift bed, you were about to get up and go get coffee but a 'huh' your friend made caught your attention.

"What? If it's something stupid, imma smack you so hard.." You look at your now bright screen to see unread texts coming through from an unknown caller, you picked it up and started reading some, with her reading over your shoulder, your were confused at first because you didn't know who it was but when finding out who thought it would be an amazing idea to text you at an ungodly time, but you soon figured it out, it was james.

You were annoyed at not only did he get home at 1am close to 2 so you would have been there for hours on your own but because he was the last person you wanted to talk to.

Rolling your eyes you went on with your life, making and drink a cup of coffee then getting ready to attend a fashion show, you weren't walking but you were invited with front row seats and couldn't pass it up, and there was have after party which you managed to get your friend into aswell somehow, so a minimum of 6 hours away from James and all the stress in the world.

"I wonder if theres cute guys there? I hope so. Ugh, after me and Josh broke up, I've been so lonely.. in bed, of course, i dont want commitment!" You watch as your best friend since college, Chloe, yapped about boys while realising for the 4th time today what's going to change when you marry James, "have you seen Joshs new girlfriend, I think we went to high school with her.. shes nice..." As she continues to gossip while doing makeup, you zone out and think about your life until she claps, getting your attention once again, "you know what?! I'm happy for Josh. I'm happy being single. He's happy being non single." She smiled at you."You should be happy you're marrying one of the most richest and most powerful men in America, probably the world, maybe.." You just nod and smile at her. You don't know if you are smiling because she's smiling or if what she said was correct, you're sure you'll find out.

While driving to the fashion show, the topic of James was brought up, "if I were marrying him, I'd be in his bed so fast," Chloe stated for the 38th time. "Is it true? The rumours about his arm, that's is.. no doubt the rumours about his dick aren't false -" You zone out from your friends rant about James when your phone screen lit up from a text... his text.. one after the other..

You zoned back in to hear chloe talking about Zeon. In all fairness, you didn't know who he was, but also, she hadn't spoken about him til now, or you think so? You were about to ask who he was until you see a modern building with lots of windows and a weird looking woman statue but with no curves and all straight lines and spikes, it did make you uncomfortable in an unspeakable way but you got out of the car and walked past it while looking down, you walked up to the bouncer you, showing your Ids and was let in, after the man blocking the door with a clipboard questioned chloe about if she was in the right place or not.

You were seated towards the end of the runway, which you didn't mind, but what you did mind was the constant camera flash some for the models but mostly for you.. that isn't helping you stay away from James, but you do like attention. The event was over later than you expected as some older women went on a rant about how fashion changed and how it was disturbing now or whatever.

You parked in a 24/7 parking zone and walked a little over 10 minutes for the after party that was already in full swing when you got there, heading straight towards the bar with chloe walking close behind to order a mocktail since you dont drink often but over to your left chloe was downing tequila shots like water, that wasn't surprising but what was surprising was when she ordered a cocktail and sent it your way, she knows you don't drink but looking around and seeing all the lady's glancing at you knowingly you thought this was one of the rare occasions where you will drink, and drink you did.

You knew from the start that marrying James Barnes wouldn't be easy from all his "fans" who are just girls throwing themselves on him but finding out he has a girlfriend? A whole other can of worms you didn't realise opened but the girls at this club were a new level of bitchy, like one tried spilling her red wine on you but ended up missing and it went over the lad next to you who weren't amused at all or when you were dancing with chloe and some other chick tried tripping you but you stepped over her foot unknowingly but 30 seconds later you did almost trip yourself up, but that's about the last thing you remember apart from getting more drink and getting hit on some else happening then dancing on someone or dancing on your companion.

But you do know 1 thing for certain is that you've woken up with a massive banging head ache in a warm bed, half dressed and with what you assumed someone sleeping next to you as they haven't moved, unless they're watching you sleep?

(Lol sorry i hadn't been posting i just moved, lmao, so that's taken most of my time)

TAGS: @learis @unaxv @cjand10 @pattiemac1 @coffee-winter-and-silence @scott-loki-barnes @blackhawkfanatic

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star-going-supernova · 3 months

Note

Here’s a SB prompt for ya!

Gregory realistically couldn’t have lasted the entire game without getting hurt. He got bruises from being slammed into things, his limbs aches for days cause he pushed himself too hard, and you can’t tell me any scrapes from Monty or Roxy didn’t scar.

Gregory would 100% use jokes and quips to deal with all the memories from that night whenever it gets brought up. Freddy who’s programming is insistent on lightening the mood and is joke based hates when he does it with a burning passion.

I’m still not done with the mini ficlets, lol. I went with immediate aftermath instead of further down the line.

Just a Scratch

The shift from night mode to day mode as, somewhere, a clock finally struck six was the best thing Gregory had seen all night. Lights began to turn on, STAFF bots disappeared by the dozen, and the stupid music cut out, leaving a ringing silence in its wake.

Just visible from his hiding place, he watched Chica twitch a bit, then zombie walk away toward her room down the long hall of Rockstar Row. Mere minutes later, Monty and Roxy followed, none seemingly aware of their surroundings. They all vanished into their rooms without a peep.

Still tense and on guard, Gregory unfolded himself from the tight corner behind the trash can he’d been tucked behind. There was no movement from the green rooms; from where he was crouched, he could see that Roxy’s was empty. Recharging in their back hallways, maybe?

Guests would start arriving in a few hours, after all, and the show must go on.

Limping down the hall, he raised his watch and pressed the button to talk. “Freddy? You still with me?”

“I am still here, superstar,” Freddy said, and he sounded so relieved. “I believe it is over. The barricade over the doors has risen. You are safe now.”

Safe. It’d only been one night, but it felt like such a foreign concept. How could the pizzaplex ever feel safe again, no matter what time of day it was?

Six hours. Not even counting that first hour before the barricade went down. Longest six hours of his life.

He was starting to feel a little woozy and unsteady on his feet by the time he and Freddy found each other. Freddy gasped at the sight of him, and the sound reflexively made him look around wildly, expecting an attack. But the quiet halls were empty but for the two of them.

“Gregory,” Freddy said urgently. “You are far more injured than I thought! We must get you medical care immediately.”

Gregory blinked uncomprehendingly for a moment before looking down at himself and taking stock of his body for the first time in hours. He’d kinda had other, more important things on his mind, y’know?

The first thing he noticed were the bruises. He’d hit the deck more than once, either on purpose or from tripping, and his knees reflected that. They were dark and discolored. Lower, on his left leg, a trio of long gashes slashed diagonally down the front and curved around the back. They started to sting fiercely now that he’d noticed them. Monty had grabbed him there once, he remembered faintly.

It was all a bit of a blur, to be honest.

The sides of his upper arms and shoulders ached too, and he thought of how many times he’d taken a corner too fast, one animatronic or another hot on his tail, and the way he’d slammed into the walls before continuing on. On his back, the burn of another couple of cuts flared up; Chica had taken him by surprise at least twice.

Shallow puncture wounds lined the top of his lower left arm from when he’d blocked Roxy’s teeth somewhere around 2 a.m. And both his right wrist and ankle throbbed with the pain of a sprain, probably from the one time the security guard had managed to grab him and yank him around and a fumbled jump down some stairs respectively.

A full body ache buzzed through him, too—the result of running and lifting and pulling and pushing far too much, far beyond what his ten-year-old body was used to.

And his vision was admittedly a little blurry. A headache had started after the third time he’d had his head smacked into the floor by a pouncing Moon, so maybe he had a concussion on top of all the rest.

The room was starting to spin, and Freddy was looking mightily concerned, which wasn’t an expression Gregory would have thought a robot capable of. Thoughts all tangled up around each other, he was suddenly desperate to reassure his protector that he was okay, honest, and they would look back on this night someday and laugh.

He giggled now, tipped alarmingly to the side, and in a concussed attempt to alleviate Freddy’s worry and lighten the mood, Gregory enthusiastically declared, “Tis but a scratch!”

Freddy made a noise of appalled disbelief, but if he said anything in response, Gregory didn’t hear it. He was too busy collapsing on the spot, thoroughly unconscious.

#i answered a thing #anonymous #fnaf security breach #fnaf fic #star's stories #life and times of star

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johnnys-breastmilk · 2 years

Note

Steve Harrington x Male reader — So like, your boyfriends, which is a surprise in itself cause like steve didn’t think he’d fall for a guy, but you find yourselfs in the back of “family video” fucking, STEVE IS BLOWING YOUR BACK OUT- this could include (before hand) and assemble of touching, shy chaste kisses and sarcastic (but cute comments) which leads to steve punishing your sorry ass in the back (riding him-) 🫣

yasss lemme put u on somethin' (also sorry for this being late, writer's block do be kicking my ass into next tuesday)

a/n — this has some crackfic to it, but to be fair, Stranger Things is full of crackfic humor sooooo

warnings — 18+! Smut, Steve blowing your back out with his massive-

words — 1.84k

summary — check the request!

~~~

The slowly repeated clack of one sole computer key bringing down the equally slowly refreshing digital screen set the tone for the imminently stale afternoon: utter boredom. Each name flickered on the digitizer as your eyes trailed along the lines of information, checking one vital row running down the screen in solid green lettering—the account holders of Family Video's current rentals and if they were overdue to return any of them.

Surprisingly, the lessees renting videos from the store managed to indemnify everything on time, making your job a slog since everyone was responsible when presented with a deadline. You were looking for people who refused to return what they borrowed for whatever arbitrary reason they listed and calling to convince them to remit the fines.

What was less of a surprise was that it didn't bring much joy to scroll through the hundreds of names of the residents of Hawkins that all had an account at this here neon-consumed video store. There were far too many people to actually get through the list in one day, let alone the last couple hours of your shift.

It could have gone faster if two people were plowing through the list, but Steve, on the other hand, seemed to be having a blast restocking the final few shelves in the store with different videotapes. You gave your eyes a break from the straining blue light by looking over to check on his progress, praying that he was nearly done furnishing the shelves to help you with this, to which he was still hunched over, placing cheesy romance movies of all kinds along the bottom row.

You were about to get back to the grind of checking for overdue rentals when something from earlier in your shift urged you to connect the mental dots that formed in your brain. Your shift rotation started at noon, and you had arrived only to dash to the back to check for any new shipments as a new feature film had finally hit video, and you had no plans to miss out on being the first to own a copy. Not only did you love the movie, but you wanted to get it for you and Steve to watch together. Regardless, nothing new had arrived, and the back room was full of boxes containing dozens of restocks for every movie you could think of, along with their corresponding promotional posters.

Returning to the front area of the store, you found Robin and Steve chatting in between the shelves for romance and comedy as Steve filled the bottom ledge with a few boxed films before inconspicuously pulling them off of it and placing them back into the cardboard box they shipped in. That would mean that Steve had been purposefully cycling through the same work all day, avoiding the worst tasks required by the job's standards.

You turned on your chair, smugly leaning over the forest-shaded counter with your arms easily sliding into place over the other to give you an equally derisive look to match. In a jeering tone, you teased your co-worker, "Didn't you already stock that area, Harrington?"

He turned to look at you, the harsh neon-orange lighting of the display shaming the half of him facing away from you as it competed with the golden glow from the front windows. He hung his head in defeat, admitting under a low mumble, "Yeah."

You pressed on, "Then why are you doing it again?"

Steve returned to placing each tape on the shelf, "To memorize the titles."

"I thought you didn't like romance movies? You always said that your hair had 'more charm than a prince on the screen.'"

"And I thought I didn't like guys, but here we are."

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Okay, what's up? Did King Steve finally lose the title of employee of the month? Or run out of Faberge products this morning?" He finished stocking the shelf for what you guessed was for the second time that day, and your eyes followed as he stood and paced over to the check-out counter with a vexing look on his face.

"Don't disrespect the hair," Steve spoke, setting down the vacant box in his hands and pointing a single finger to his carefully cared-for hair.

You were leaning far enough over the counter to stretch your arm out to the nape of Steve's neck, ushering it further northbound into the mess of his dewy yet soft hair and pulling him closer to you until he was a short breath away, "What's the real reason, Steve?"

“Do I really have to say it?" Steve uttered quietly with a hint of snark and raised his shoulders in defense, letting them fall as he admitted how he felt, "I’m bored at work.”

You waved what he said off as you spoke, distancing yourself from him as you casually fell back into the stool near the computer, “With me around? Never.”

A glint of something more rose to the gloss of Steve's eyes, reflecting in the neon lighting lining the walls—an idea had come to him, but you didn't know what it could be. “You’re right—hey, uh, can you help me with a new shipment in the back?”

Your brows knitted together faster than a grandma determined to make the itchiest Christmas sweater imaginable. Somehow, both seemed unpleasant on you as you spoke, "But I didn't see anything earlier."

He neared the entrance to the storage room, turning on his heel and letting his back softly press against the door, "I know, but there's something else you could help me unpack."

"Steve Harrington, you are insane," You mused while shooting up and rounding the shaded counter, closing in on Steve as he backed into the door of the supply closet, a hand of his embracing the small of your back as the other reached for the handle. He flung the door open and pulled you into the small room meant for new shipments and stock, not bothering to shut it. Guiding you to a few stray and scarcely stocked shelves next to the door, Steve reached down to fish out a condom from the pocket of his flares before carelessly throwing it onto the rack behind you and attacking your neck with aggressive kisses.

You turned your head to give him better access, leaving the open door in plain sight. Keeping the room visible was risky, for one thing. No one would be at the counter to ring someone up, and anyone with a curious eye could stumble into the room and see what was happening. But it was a slow day, and Steve was anything but slow when it came to getting his hands on you. He parted from your supple neck, and within seconds, you had rid each other of the dark green vests and underlying shirts, leaving the both of you exposed from the waist up.

You pulled him in for a quick buss as your hands traversed his bushy chest and along the line of hair trailing down his abdomen until you reached the buckle of his pants. Loosening Steve's flares—which grew increasingly tighter with each second of contact that passed—proved to be an easy task, and with that, his boxers went down with the rough denim and bunched at his ankles.

There was a brief moment where you eyed his cock and realized that Steve's glory days could be traced back to the thing between his legs; being a massive dick in high school really reflected what he was packing his pants, and what he sported was a heavy hitter—just like him on the baseball team, as he could make you see the same stars he aimed to hit every home run to at each game. From the tip of his thick slugger to his sagging baseballs, Steve Harrington was perfect.

"Let me see that ass," Steve ordered, flipping you around so that your hands rested on the cold shelves behind you as he shoved down your pants.

He stretched a hand past you to reach for the rubber idly waiting on the shelf, his hand disappearing out of view. Only the sounds following it could inform you of what was happening from behind, being a tear of the packaging and a slight hiss of air before the soft crinkle of the rubber unfurling down his length.

"Guess extra-large isn't enough," Steve remarked, admiring how the lubed elastic barely managed to reach the base of his cock, the dark hair surrounding it meeting the taut ring at the bottom.

You turned your head, looking back to him, "Really? I guess you can't read because that says it's small."

He took a step forward, his hand cupping the folds of your ass, "You wish it was."

Steve removed one hand to get a hold of his girth, slipping himself past your cheeks with ease and towards your hole. A sudden jolt of sharp pain from your back-end sent you forward, going limp against the rack of shelves you leaned on for support, the palm of your hand coming down atop the surface of the metal with one hard smack and an ensuing moan. For as big as Steve was, you were surprised that his previous endeavors in the bedroom hadn't left your ass used to his thickness.

He pumped inch after inch into your ass, watching as your hole stretched wide for his shaft, which was a far cry from the tip of his cock, needing much more courage to take the further he went. While his impressive size clouded your mind, your own pleasure trudged through the fog, searching for something to take hold of. Steve didn't waste any time burying himself into you, though, and a hand took hold of your cock, stroking it with a single hand. His other hand, however, claimed the spot next to yours on the shelf, using it for stability as his movements inside you became greedy.

Steve repeatedly buried himself deep into you, addicted to the sounds of his skin smacking against yours when he bottomed out with each swing of his hips. It seemed like each one was a tick to count the moments building to the mounting climax inside him, and his increasingly louder noises only proved that theory. Minutes passed, and you started to feel the same.

Like rewinding a watched video tape, Steve was sick of being stuck at the end and holding off for his own pleasure. With a few final thrusts, he spilled himself out inside the rubber confines and kept pumping your shaft until you did the same. Your load splashed over the empty shelf sitting inches below your crotch, meeting your knees as they buckled against it.

Steve was quick to pull himself out of you, shucking off the condom filled with his load, placing it on the shelf, and was standing in the empty stock room. You shifted around to face him, "What are you doing, Harrington?"

"I just—" He paused, "—can't believe that really happened."

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pedge-stuff · 11 months

Text

trailer reunion (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked," as always. this one skews a little more m! and a little less gn!, apologies if that puts anyone off.

thanks, as always, for everything.

summary: 5 weeks is a long, long time.

——————————————————————————

Your leg won’t stop bouncing. It’s not your fault, really— it’s the Edmonton Airport’s, for having such a conveniently located Tim Hortons, right outside the baggage claim. After the 7-hour red eye from JFK, with the connection through Toronto, the coffee was necessary.

The caffeine isn’t entirely to blame, though. If the taxi wouldn’t stop going so fucking slow, maybe you’d settle down. But the traffic is unyielding, so the 20 minute drive to your heartfelt reunion is looking more like 45. Apparently, shutting part of the city down to film a TV show really screws up peoples’ commutes. You’d waited long enough (a month and six days, but who’s counting?), surely an extra half-hour won’t kill you. But in the taxi, the minutes seem to stretch into years.

The filming schedule for The Last of Us has been brutal. From what Pedro has told you, there was apparently a strain to film both the first and second episode back-to-back; something about using the same locations and exterior shots. For him, it has meant a marathon of shooting… the only downside to being the star of the show.

SNL’s new season was in full swing anyways, so you’d had plenty to keep you busy. Spent enough late nights at 30 Rock, after many a panicked call to the dog walker, that you barely had to inhabit his otherwise vacant condo. You talked every night, usually Facetiming before bed, but the distance was wearing on you both.

Now, the only thing in between you and your man is this fucking traffic jam.

Though this wasn’t a surprise visit— you’d booked the flight as soon as you’d realized the SNL hiatus week lined up with The Last of Us breaking to change locations for the next episode— you did have one trick up your sleeve. Or, more accurately, under your mask.

You’d been attempting to grow facial hair well before meeting Pedro, but it had been a sparse and largely unsuccessful endeavor until very recently. Your jawline had filled in between your sideburn and chin, albeit slightly patchy. You’d been hiding it over Facetime, opting for regular calls a bit more and hoping he wouldn’t notice. Not the craziest surprise, but still, your heart thrums at the prospect of finally sharing it with him.

Of course, once you arrive to set, the obstacles multiply.

Some college kid in a neon yellow vest stops you before you’ve even managed to remove your duffle from the trunk of the cab.

“Covid testing is this way, please follow me,” he insists tersely. Self-consciously, you adjust the KN95 strap around your ear.

The kid leads you to a tent, where two people in full white hazmat suits, complete with gloves and face shields, ask your name and instruct you to pull down your mask. (There’s a joke in there somewhere, about infection at a show about infected, but you get the sense it might be inappropriate to fool around here.)

Once swabbed and registered, you move to leave, scanning the exit for anyone who might be able to help you navigate onto set. But you are immediately blocked by a hazmat woman.

“You need to wait for the rapid to clear,” she insists, pointing to a row of folding chairs. “Fifteen minutes.”

Fifteen minutes, after 5 weeks. Just fifteen minutes. You resign yourself to a seat by the door.

It’s 4pm. You were supposed to have arrived during a stop down between shots— timed so that Pedro would be in his trailer, and accessible, when you arrived. It feels like that window is physically, tangibly closing as you watch the second-hand tick slowly.

Initially, you’d been hesitant to join him on set at all, but he’d insisted you come meet his “second family.” You’d met several of his colleagues via Facetime, when he’d called you from his trailer. Bella, in particular, you’ve taken a liking to— they pepper you with whispered questions about transitioning and gripes about the gender binary when Pedro has been forced to hand over the phone.

You check your phone. Nothing from Pedro, although his little blue dot looks stationary when you pull up FindMyFriends. The clock ticks. There is a burning sting each time you blink— that third cup of coffee is wearing off, and the 5am wake-up this morning is starting to catch up to you. Really, all you want to do is go back to your partner’s hotel room, said partner in tow, curl up on the king-sized and fall asleep watching some West Wing rerun. (Maybe also shower together, and then some. You can keep yourself awake for that.)

Finally, finally, finally, the hazmat woman returns. “You’re clear,” she announces, handing you a green sticker to adhere on your jacket. You make it through the tent flap, heart in your throat with anticipation—

But you have no fucking idea where to go.

A sea of white tents lays before you, stations with people doing things of varying levels of importance. A neon slip of paper points you towards set, but that’s not where you’re headed. Finally, past a corralled group of extras in some really disgusting mushroom prosthetics, and a tent full of picked-over lunch offerings, you spot some trailers in the distance.

And apparently, a stranger with a duffle bag walking quickly towards actors’ trailers, yields a quick security intervention.

In their defense, you definitely look like a crazy person.

“Do you have a clearance list, or anything?” You beg, discretely craning your neck to see over the guard’s neck. The trailers are right there. There are only a few, it shouldn’t take any time at all to find Pedro. He’s within arm’s reach and yet he couldn’t possibly feel further away as the guard talks code into a very official-looking walkie talkie.

“Roger.” He looks down at you. “Listen, you gotta go man. It’s a clearance-only set, and they’ve got strict covid rules, so—”

The green sticker may or may not get shoved in the man’s face. There may or may not be angry tears threatening to ruin your cool. “I got covid tested! I’m clean, they let me through. They had me on their list. I’m—”

From behind you, a familiar voice cuts you off. “With me, Robbie.”

You whip around.

Jaw? On the floor.

Pedro looks… really fucking old. His hair has been sprayed gray, wily and wind-swept; the beard, too, is much grayer than normal. It’s all part of a dirty-looking, artificially stained, mostly denim-based costume. You file away for later, how attracted you are to seeing him like this. Jesus Christ.

He looks old, but he is here, and he is grinning at you, and he’s here.

“Aw, shit.” The guard talks into the radio again. “86. Sorry about that.”

Easy to ignore him, though, as you’re preoccupied with staring at your man.

Before you can move to pounce on him, close the final four feet of distance between you, a well-manicure hand splays menacingly out at you.

“Don’t even think about it,” Coco warns. “We have fifteen minutes for touch-ups and I do not have time to fix everything.”

Pedro’s nose twitches, frowning at you. You reach down to hold his hand, but it is… apparently also covered in make-up, looking red, nasty and broken.

Sorry, he mouths dejectedly.

The inside of his trailer is familiar, though it looks a little smaller in-person than it appears on Facetime. A mirror and counter, a decently sized couch, a bathroom, a desk in the corner. Pedro settles in the make-up chair, smiling backwards at you in the mirror.

“Drop your stuff,” he insists.

Little touches of your life together pepper the room in a way that grips your heart a little. A framed picture on the desk, which you recognize from last summer; a particularly nice day in Prospect Park with the dogs, captured in a Polaroid snapped candid by a total stranger. You’d declined it, at first, assuming it was a weird fan thing. But they had insisted, leaving the picture behind and walking away. It was too lovely to leave.

The sweatshirt draped over the arm of the sofa is yours— an old NYU hoodie Pedro usually travels with. He claims it’s a ‘security blanket,’ and honestly, he might only be half-joking. A note you’d recently sent in a package (he’d accidentally left his whole box of contacts at home), taped up on the mirror, alongside a photo strip with Sarah from some gala a couple years back.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Pedro says quietly, watching you look around. “Take your mask off, baby, I’m assuming you cleared testing if you made it through the front.”

In your excitement to reunite, you almost forgot the little surprise. His jaw drops, into an awed smile. With the un-fake-injured hand, he reaches up to palm your cheek. Runs a hand up and down your jaw, scratching lightly along the new hair.

You turn enough to plant a kiss on the pulse point of Pedro’s wrist. Capture his hand with yours, against your face, to feel him for the first time in over a month.

“Oh! The oil is working,” Coco has paused, midway through spraying something silvery and chemical-smelling to Pedro’s temples. She had suggested it surreptitiously a few months back, off-handedly, and you’d been religiously using it since. The woman knows her shit.

Pedro continues to thumb at the new scruff, transfixed. His jaw muscle twitches.

“I’ve uh—” He stalls out. “Uh. Sorry. Dinner. Craig—”

You step backwards, pulling your hand down to hold in his lap, instead. He huffs.

“Craig wants to go to dinner tonight, since we’re wrapping in Edmonton. I guess there’s this restaurant he is insisting we have to try, it’s a whole thing. Big group. I didn’t give him an answer, in case you’re tired and wanna just head back to the hotel? But we can go, either way it’s fine, I figured…”

“Pedge,” you interrupt. “It’s all good. I’d be happy to go, it sounds fun.”

He exhales. “Thank god, because it’s like a spouse-thing, Neil and Craig’s wives are here.”

Your eyebrow quirks. “Spouse?”

Just to get a blush out of the man. You’d discussed it, of course, but had yet to make moves. Being marked soothed any sense of urgency— you were committed by flesh and blood, and that was ultimately more binding than a ring or ceremony. But, still.

“Joking, love." Despite the coffee, a yawn sneaks up on you. "I might crash on the couch for a bit, when you go back."

He glances at his phone. "We only have one more shot to get alts on. Neil swears we have a hard-out in an hour. Close your eyes, and I'll be right back."

— — —

You didn't mean to actually fall asleep. Just lay there on your phone and zone out for a bit. But suddenly, you're waking up, to the feeling of a mouth on your own.

A familiar mouth. Warm, scruffy around the edges, a little pepperminty.

"We're done," Pedro whispers. "Coco says I can fuck up my makeup now."

When you open your eyes, he is hovering above you, grinning like a wolf. He's still in costume, though the denim overshirt is already half-unbuttoned.

"Are you done being gross?"

Sitting up, you find Bella in the doorway. They waste no time flinging themselves at the couch.

"In the flesh!" You both laugh.

"Shorter in person, huh?" Pedro is rewarded by a hearty shove from his costar, as he scrubs a makeup wipe across his face.

Wiping sleep from your eyes, you can tell it's gotten dark outside in the time that you've been asleep. "Craig still insisting on dinner?"

"Mm. It's like fancy Mediterranean, I think."

"Fetaaaaa," Bella pumps the air. "Nice."

The evening stretches out before you— a few more obstacles between you and the hotel bed. But Pedro is here, in the flesh, and he's smiling at you in a way that forms the little crinkles beside his eyes, and you think maybe you can sit through a few hours of fancy dinner and small talk.

You've waited this long, anyways.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal x male reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #the last of us #joel miller x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin #joel miller #joel miller fluff #bella ramsey #bella ramsey and pedro pascal

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idontknowreallywhy · 2 months

Text

Resurface 11 - Revise

Previous bits here

Um, sorry John…

🧡💙🧡💙🧡💙🧡💙🧡💙🧡💙🧡💙🧡💙

John growled and swiped his organic chemistry notes off his desk. The file sailed over the bed, slammed into the wall and, inevitably, the pages popped out of the binder and fluttered all over the room.

It was useless anyway, he couldn’t focus. None of it was making sense. Chemistry made no sense. His lack of ability to THINK made no sense. Probably because his entire life, right now, made no sense. His scattered notes had more chance of putting themselves back together than his family did. But he couldn’t let himself start thinking about that.

Not now. Not yet.

John had managed to get nearly back on track over the last couple of months, after that first four weeks of agony. He’d have respected the determination, the sheer bloody-mindedness that only John ever came close to taking his title for.

John just had to get through the next 3 weeks then he could… fall apart or whatever.

He clawed at his scalp in an attempt to release the constant tension that was making his eyes hurt and to distract himself from the suspicion he already had fallen apart or whatever.

Everything was… too much. He had so much to do. And 418 hours 47 minutes in which to do it all. So much still to get in his head. Which was way too full of all of the other thoughts he couldn’t compartmentalise properly because apparently he was weak minded and about to throw everything away. And on top of all that, with Dad doing whatever he was doing with the GDF big wigs, John was expected to cook for everyone and look after the kids and generally pick up the slack Virgil had just abandoned for a five day binge of complaining of a headache and creeping around the house muttering nonsense to himself.

John was actually a little worried about that. More than a little. But he forced himself to shut it away. It would be fine… Virgil would be fine. He had to be fine. Just like John did. Was. Fine was the Tracy way. Scott was always…

No. Stop.

Later.

He dug his fingernails into his thighs, bending one of them slightly back on the thick seam of the chinos he’d been wearing for 19.7 days. Nobody had noticed. All the other pants he owned were annoying. So. Whatever.

Scott would have noticed and quietly ordered him a second pair…

His fingertip throbbed angrily.

Argh, this had to stop. None of these thoughts were a good use of time. All of it was irrelevant, except the work.

A tiny voice asked how he could possibly betray his brother’s memory by adding him to that list… he quashed it with a mental fist of steel. He’d want him to do well. He’d always been proud, cheered him on… been sat in the front row between Dad and Virgil and clapping excessively loudly as John reluctantly shuffled red-faced on to the stage at high school prize-giving...

Breathe, John.

He picked up a well thumbed tome on astrophysics… it may be a waste of time - this was easy and didn’t need revision, but he needed to stop these unproductive trains of thought. This was easier to get absorbed in.

Approximately 8.25 minutes later his focus was broken yet again by a scratching noise above him. Aaaaah. Not bats again! Please no, they gave him the creeps but it was illegal to shift the things once they took up residence. He’d have to swap rooms with Virgil. He couldn’t sleep up here if there were…

Hell, they were massive sounding bats…

John flung open the window to peer up into the eaves… Dad had blocked the hole last year so how had they got in there to…

Some sixth sense made him suspicious of the volume of the scrabbling noise overhead and he ducked his head back inside, very narrowly avoiding having his face smashed in by a falling roof tile. Closely followed by… a shoe. A big shoe.

What? It hit the ground with a thud and John squinted down at it. A boot? One of Virgil’s he was sure of it but why on earth…?

A thud overhead, a clatter, a muffled curse in a very familiar baritone and two more tiles slid past his horrified face in quick succession.

Everything in his head went grey and screechy. He rushed from through the house yelling for Dad. Screeching for Dad. It was him screeching. He had no control over his vocal cords anymore, they had short circuited with his amygdala and were bypassing all coherent thought.

There was only panic.

🧡💙🧡💙🧡💙🧡💙🧡💙🧡💙🧡💙🧡💙

Thank you to @astranite for helping me voice this one better - I’ve not got inside John’s head much before, at least without EOS for him to bounce off…

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #john tracy #scott tracy #virgil tracy #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #resurface fic

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xjustakay · 8 months

Text

(10/1) prompt: cemetery — 1,313 words (playing arrogant games — cw: murder, knife, blood. yeah. happy october.) @jegulus-microfic

Dark curls cling to a sweaty forehead as James runs as fast as his legs will carry him. His lungs beg for reprieve, but still his feet continue through the grass, dodging headstones as he cuts through a cemetery. It dead ends into the last street of a new development of houses; he just needs to get to the neighborhood. Find a door to knock on. Ask someone for help.

He can’t pause to look back or he’ll falter and then it’s all over. He doesn’t have time to feel apologetic for the floral arrangement he accidentally kicks over on his way, only taking a brief second to swear between panted breaths and stumble fully upright again. Can’t stop moving forward when he’s being followed.

Finally, he jumps over the low wooden fence on the other end of the cemetery, landing on both feet and running further. His face is hot, his chest is just starting to hurt, but he’s almost there. He’s almost gotten to where he needs to be. There’s no lights on at the first house in the row, no cars in the driveway on the next.

The third house, though. The third house down has a car parked out front, the porch light on, and the blue glow of a TV in the living room through the front window. That’s his ticket.

The houses are too far apart with their overly spacious properties; his knees are practically ready to give out before he even hits the third house’s front lawn, but he doesn’t let that stop him. Hopes the timing is just right. That whoever’s inside is quick to the door.

James takes the four porch steps up two at a time and bodily throws himself at the front door, pounding repeatedly with both hands against the painted wood. His heart is loud in his ears, his breaths coming and going in a hurry as he doesn’t let up. He hasn’t looked back since he took a sharp right into the cemetery, but he’s sure he hasn’t been hard to find and follow.

It won’t be long now until he’s caught up to.

The entryway light turns on inside and the door swings open finally, a young woman who can’t be much older than him looking at him wide-eyed. Before she can even get a word in, he’s pleading with her.

“Please, you have to help me. He’s coming after me, he’ll be here any minute,” James rushes out.

“What are you talking— Who is coming after you?”

A quiet creak in a porch step. A hand ghosting along the base of his spine.

James cocks his head to the left, his previously panicked expression vanishing from his face. He takes one step to the side, makes room for—

“Me.” Regulus wiggles four gloved fingers in taunting greeting, curled thumb holding a hunting knife to his palm.

Oh, the timing is fucking perfect, they’ve got this down.

There’s barely a moment for the girl to recognize what’s about to happen before Regulus is jamming the blade between two of her ribs. He rips it out and stabs back in a second time, higher up. She doesn’t get the chance to scream. Sputters a choking cough instead, blood spilling from between her lips as Regulus guides her through the open front door, his body blocking her from any other view, knife still lodged in her chest.

James looks back finally, this time to check the next house over —all the lights are off, two cars in the driveway. Then the house across the street —equally as dark, empty driveway. They’re in the clear. They fucking managed it again.

Getting away with murder does wonders for the ego.

Stepping inside the house, James removes his own pair of gloves from the pocket of his black hoodie to put on then quietly closes and locks the front door. He steps around the trail of crimson drops left in the entryway when he turns around. After stabbing her a third time in the chest, Regulus relinquishes his hold on the girl and lets her body fall heavily to the hardwood floor.

They both watch for a breath, maybe two, as she twitches slightly in a growing pool of her own blood before her head lolls sideways, wet-sounding breaths silent, eyes empty. Regulus looks at James over his shoulder, a smug grin taking over his beautiful face.

“Almost lost you at the cemetery. Tricky move, cutting through like that,” He comments.

James shrugs, adrenaline a fiery prickle beneath his skin, a fuzzy static in his head. “You knew where I was going.”

“Always find you, don’t I?” Regulus clicks his tongue.

“You say that like I don’t want you to,” James muses, head tilting.

Regulus hums in acknowledgment and steps over the dead girl’s legs to move closer to him. Dark brows lift over the metal frames of his glasses as James glances Regulus over slowly, appreciatively. They’re always in the same getup —black joggers, black hoodies, black gloves; generic things that can be found anywhere, hard to be seen in the dark until they want to be.

Still, Regulus could be wearing a potato sack and still look good, James is sure of it. Especially like this. High on the power of playing their own twisted version of God. Riddled with the buzz of arrogance that they continue to feed again and again every time they play this game that they do.

James barely remembers how they actually got here, to this point, just knows that since they’ve gotten a taste they’re both insatiable. Just as bad as they are for each other.

“I say we mix it up next time,” James says.

“Is that right?” Regulus replies, moving nearer still.

“Yeah. It's been a while since we swapped. You can pick the house while I chase you with a knife for a bit. Keep things interesting.”

“Maybe if you ask nicely.”

“I’ll ask so nicely for you, baby.” James grins lazily, curls a hand at Regulus’ hip when he stops close in front of him.

He’s still got the bloodied knife in hand, but James isn’t worried. That’s never actually meant for them, no matter how they play. Regulus swaps the knife to the opposite hand, lifts the one slick with blood to clasp at James’ chin. He smears the cooling wetness along the line of James’ jaw with his gloved thumb, painting a red line against his tan skin.

“Well? I’m waiting,” Regulus murmurs, lips curled in a dangerous smirk.

James sighs airily and drops his forehead against Regulus’. He inclines forward to nip gently at Regulus’ lower lip then swipe his tongue over it.

“Please, baby, let me have my fun, too.” It’s overly sweet, even as he lowers his voice, squeezes Regulus’ hip pointedly.

Regulus hums softly, trailing more blood up James’ cheek with his thumb. “Anything for you, darling.”

He doesn’t give James the opportunity to say more, pressing his thumb into his cheek, fingers curling tighter around his chin, to pull him in further. It’s a harsh kiss where they meet in the middle, teeth pinching against lips until Regulus licks hotly into James’ mouth like the space belongs to him. They can’t do much here, what with their latest victim on the floor and a scene to vacate, but it’s still enough to make James groan, enough to make him want.

“Let’s go home.” Mumbled half-intelligibly into the press of their lips.

Regulus lets out a quiet moan when James tugs at his hip to roll his own forward; further incentive to leave.

Against the edge of his jaw, slick lips tinging a different shade of red when they brush the blood painted on James’ skin, Regulus repeats, “Anything for you.”

And maybe that’s how they got here, after all, James thinks: anything for each other.

#jegulus #jegulus microfic #kicking off halloween month with #-gestures vaguely-#well #love them even when they’re crazy #back on my microfic bullshit for now how fun #kay’s microfics #kay’s writing

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heygerald · 11 days

Text

AU where Tom Ryder is still an asshole, just not a psychotic asshole. After their moment at the wrap party, Tom shows up at Parker's bookstore. How is it possible someone can be such an asshole when asking for a favor?

read the story here: prev / next

Two weeks later finds the weather outside shifting with the first hint of autumn; cooler temperatures in the morning greet Parker when she walks to work, and the coffee shop next door has started advertising their new fall drinks of pumpkin spice and cinnamon tea. She's seen her brother every day since the wrap party—partly because he always makes a point of taking some down time after finishing a movie to recover from his stunts, and partly because her and Jody have become fast friends—but she hasn't seen Tom since their moment in the bathroom.

She suspects that's for the best. The internet is flooded with paparazzi photos of him flouncing around town with models every other day, and she's still trying to forget how natural it felt to laugh with him.

But despite her brother's newly open schedule, and Jody's constant pestering to go spend a day at the beach, Parker finds her bookstore just as empty as always.

There are a few stragglers here and there throughout the day. Sometimes she gets lucky when a tour bus stops for gas and snacks, allowing an ensemble of tacky dressed tourists to flood her street for twenty minutes. On unlucky days, Mr. Chamberlain will stop in to peruse her historical section; but he doesn't have any sort of schedule or income, and those visits consist entirely of him describing last night's CSI episode to Parker before trying to set her up with his grandson. Once he bought a book from her dollar bin. He attempted to return it three days later.

On days like today, Parker is visited by a sixteen-year-old named Melissa who hangs out every so often while her mom attends overpriced Pilates in the studio down the block.

"...and then Peter was all 'no, sorry Mandy, I'm not interested". Like, hello! My name is Melissa and we've lived in the same neighborhood since we were four," said teenager was droning on from her spot atop the upcycled reading chair in the corner. She never failed to impress Parker with how much she could talk—the stories quite literally never stopped coming—while at the same time she managed to read about four books a week. Parker suspected that Melissa's brain represented something like the Rainbow Road in Mario Kart, when the music got a little too fast and the turns were a little too hard to keep up with. "Now, I have no idea what I'm going to do. There's no one else for me to ask since it's three weeks away."

Parker, only half-listening to the story, hummed from her spot two rows back. She had won several boxes of books at a local auction about a month ago and had done a pretty good job at pretending they didn't exist.

Ignoring the problem only lasted so long, however, and this morning she had ended up spilling coffee all over herself when her sneaker caught the edge of the box. Pride—and knees—damaged, she decided to tackle the issue first thing in the morning.

It was now four in the afternoon, and the books were mocking her.

"Can't you just go alone?" she asked.

"Go alone? Are you crazy! That's, like, really sad, Park," Melissa explained. She couldn't see her, but Parker could feel the judgmental look the teen girl was giving her. "Only losers go alone to dances."

"Baby did it."

"Who?"

"Baby. You know? You don't put Baby in a corner? That one."

A tut. "You should really update your references."

"Jesus. Since when did Dirty Dancing become an outdated reference?" she muttered while inspecting the spine of a mystery novel from the 70s. It had definitely seen better days, and when she shifted it, three pages fell out. Parker tossed it into the TRASH box with a sigh. "Is going to a dance with your friends considered outdated too?"

"That's the same thing as going alone," Melissa groaned.

"How? You're literally not alone."

"Because if I go with my friends, that means that I couldn't get anyone that wasn't a friend to agree to go with me. I don't need the whole school thinking that I'm a total loser."

"I went with my friends and had a blast. And I'm not a loser."

There was no response other than silence, and after a few moments Parker realized that if Melissa had nothing to say about the subject, she likely had nothing nice to say.

She cleared her throat before moving onto the next, and final, box hoping that there would be better books in it. So far, her KEEP pile was looking pathetically small compared to what was about to be binned. With a forced change of conversation, she asked, "hey, you grew up here, right?"

"Sure."

"Did you know the Sawyers?"

"Like, Miss Sawyer? Down on Oakcrest?"

"The fancy old house with the bushes shaped like dogs. I bought a bunch of books at her estate sale, and so far, they all suck. I thought she was supposed to be a big collector or something."

The sound of Melissa humming echoed throughout the empty store, and Parker peeked around the bookshelves to spot the girl lying upside down on the chair; Doc Martens stuck up in the air, long ponytail hanging to the ground as she played on her phone.

Parker rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, totally. But she collected those kid's books. Original copies or whatever. Mom said she paid hundreds of thousands of dollars for some rabbit book."

"...Peter Rabbit?"

"I guess," Melissa shrugged. There was a loud smack of gum popping before her voice rang out, "she did a bunch of donations to local art musuems and galleries and stuff. A phila-something—"

"Philanthropist?"

"—and there was some big deal about her donating everything to some charity. Mom was talking about it. Which, like, good for them or whatever but I don't understand how donating an old book is helping solve world hunger."

Parker let her head drop against the beat-up cardboard box in front of her, something despondent and miserable sitting on her chest at the realization that she had wasted time and money on nothing but crap. "Well, I wish I knew that before I went into a bidding war over this garbage. Are the Hardy Boys still cool or is that dated too?"

A judgmental laugh floated back. "Um, their name is pronounced Hemsworth, Park."

"I meant—" she started, before realizing that this was a battle she was never going to win, and even if she wanted to try the musty smell resonating from these boxes of crap had burned through her daily allowance of braincells. Something Melissa didn't seem to worry about as she puffed from her vape pen. "Forget it."

Not so shockingly, Melissa did not, in fact, forget it. Instead, she spent the next ten minutes describing in scary detail each Hemsworth brother, their looks on a scale of one to ten, their best movies, and why Chris was the dreamiest of them all. His hair and eyes were a big selling point, apparently, and as Parker listened to the teenager drone on, she couldn't help but wonder if Chris Hemsworth used box dye too.

So wrapped up in her own world of book sorting, Parker didn't notice when the front door opened with a tinkle of the bell until the shop went eerily quiet. Melissa, it seemed, had finally found a reason to shut up.

"I never liked Chris all that much," Parker said as she slowly gathered the KEEP bin and hefted it off the floor. Her lower back ached at the strain. Jesus, maybe I am old. Moving towards the front counter, she continued musing, "There's something about him in the first Thor movie, when his eyebrows were all bleached, that kind of turned me off. I think there's a word for that, right? The ew or something...."

She spots Melissa first.

The girl is sitting upright in the chair now, face flushed a deep scarlet red with a book held tightly in her lap as she pretends to read through it. Her phone and vape are nowhere to be seen, and she doesn't so much as glance up when Parker strides by.

"What happened to you?" she asks with an amused quirk of the brow. Melissa doesn't respond, and Parker turns to set the heavy box of books on the front counter when she spots the other person in the room. "Oh, sorry. I was in the back. Can I help—?"

It shouldn't surprise her as much as it does, but Parker blinks to find Tom Ryder standing on the other side of the counter staring at her with raised brows.

Tom fucking Ryder.

He looks better than the last time she ran into him. He has a nice tan going underneath a funky pair of yellow sunglasses that are, in her opinion, too big for his face. They look a little absurd with the whitewashed denim jacket he's wearing, but the yellow matches the bedazzled t-shirt he has on underneath, so she suspects it's some sort of fashion statement. Paired with an expensive pair of well-polished boots, it all looks quite absurd standing in the middle of her dilapidated bookstore.

Even more so when Parker realizes she's wearing nothing but a pair of cheap cargo shorts and an oversized Twilight sweatshirt that was covering the coffee-stained shirt underneath. (Team Jacob, always).

"Tom. Um... are you looking for Colt or something?"

In typical Ryder fashion, he ignores her question entirely to do a slow spin; blue eyes tinted by his glasses trailing over everything in sight. She can feel the judgement from across the counter, and when he finally fixes his sights back on her, his smirk is rage inducing. "This is your store. Seriously?"

Parker promptly plants her hands onto her hips with a scathing glare.

"Ok, what do you want?"

"Jesus, no wonder this place is empty," he drawls, a pointed smile tossed towards Melissa's prone form as he leans an elbow onto the counter. At being noticed, the teenager ducks her head behind the spine of her book as if she had just been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to. "Do you talk to all your customers like that?"

"Just the assholes," she retorts. Over Tom's shoulder she catches Melissa's book dropping down two inches, and the girl's face is completely aghast.

What are you doing! she mouths, that's Tom Ryder!

Parker rolls her eyes. As if she didn't know who the blinged-out asshole standing in her store was. Speaking of—he's still standing there smirking at her. "That's you, if I wasn't clear. Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

Tom snorts. "I think I got that after the fifth time you said it."

"And yet..." she gestures vaguely to him, then to her store.

Because he's never behaved like a normal person, however, Tom doesn't seem to mind the insult or the offhand comment that she didn't want to deal with him. Instead, he smiles while his gaze drifts from judging the bookstore to judging Parker. He gives her a glance over—up, down, lingering on her oversized sweatshirt, before going back up—and finishes with a snort. "If the door hits me, I'm suing for damages, and I doubt you could afford the lawsuit. Let alone a lawyer."

God! What. a. fucking. asshole!

Parker bites back the insult knowing that it won't do any good. They've played this game before, and clearly being called an asshole seemed to have lost some of its bite over the weeks. So instead, she forcefully returns her attention to the cardboard box and slowly starts sorting the books into categories. "Fine. Can you just tell me what you want so I can get back to my life?"

He shifts against the counter and over the mustiness she catches a waft of his cologne when he grabs a book at random from her pile. "Why else do people come to a bookstore? I want a book."

Parker snorts. "Yeah, sure. Whatever. Seriously, what do you want?"

There's a moment of silence. She glances up to find him pointedly ignoring her as he flips through the book at random.

"You're... serious?"

He shrugs. "You said you have a bunch of sci-fi books."

"I'm surprised you even remember that given the whole," she sticks a finger into her mouth and mimes throwing up. He doesn't find it funny or cute and responds with a disgusted glare. Parker rolls her eyes with a shake of the head. "It was a—never mind. Why not order off of Amazon? I thought you said you've never even been to a bookstore before?"

This time, it's his turn to roll his eyes. He drops the book with a thwack before turning his attention to the overstuffed bookshelves at her left. At random, he starts ambling towards one. "You should be flattered that I picked your little store to start. Most people would kill to say that you know. Tom Ryder explores rundown bookstore in the shitty side of LA. If you had a picture, the paps would run it in every paper by tomorrow morning," he huffs.

"Yeah, I'll be sure to document this monumental occasion forever," she snarks, but follows after him anyway. His pattern is half-hearted; poking books here and there, glancing for hardly a second, before moving on. "And my store isn't rundown. It just has some... character."

He snorts over his shoulder. "That's what a Mom says when her daughter is ugly."

"Don't you go through PR training or something?" she scoffs as he diverts to a different aisle. "I can't imagine Gail would like to hear that particular opinion if I sold it to TMZ."

"Gail would sue you for everything you own," he laughed while flipping through an old copy of Gone with the Wind. Parker crosses her arms at him with a glare, and in response Tom flashes a too-white smile at her. "She freaked out about the mink rug, by the way. Was screaming and everything. It was hilarious."

Parker's heart stopped in her chest, but when there was no continuation of the joke—haha I can't wait to see you served with papers!—she furrowed her brows at him. "You didn't tell her it was my fault?"

A shrug as he shoved the book against her chest.

She huffed, turning the book over to check for damages, but when he turned his back... well, a part of her did wonder why he would keep that a secret if it was such a big deal. Was it to be nice? Or so he could hold it over her head indefinitely? Then again, if this was his attempt at blackmail, letting it go for two weeks seemed like the wrong way to go about it.

Deciding not to linger on unsolvable riddles, Parker returned the book to the end cap he had found it on and asked, "so, does this mean you've decided to audition for that sci-fi part after all?"

Her question went unanswered as Tom paused in front of the SEX & SEXUALITY section. He pulled a wrinkled copy of Fifty Shades of Grey off the shelf and waggled his brows at her pointedly. "Keeping the good stuff for yourself, huh?"

Parker responded by snagging the book out of his hand and stuffing it back into place. "You break it, you buy it applies here too, Ryder."

"Half this place is broken," he said with a pointed glance at the flickering overhead light. "I still can't believe you own this shithole."

"I happen to love this bookstore—"

"Oh, trust me, I can believe that you would own a bookstore," he said, and while there was nothing insulting about owning a bookstore on its own, the way that Tom spoke made it clear that owning a bookstore was not something he held in high regard. Then again, he spent all his time reading shitty scripts, so what would he know? "I just can't believe that you would own this bookstore. Like, you actually paid money for this place?"

"If you have to know, I used to be friends with the owner, and got a good deal on the property," she started to explain. He raised his brows at her while slowly perusing the RELIGION section, and Parker shook herself. She didn't need to explain anything to him of all people. The reminder helped her find some confidence, and she fluttered her hands at him irritably. "You know what—I don't need to explain myself to you. You've never even been to a bookstore before. What would you know about making sacrifices for something you believed in?"

Tom paused in his search. She saw his jaw clench, and eyes droop towards the creaky wooden floor beneath his shiny boots, and his comment from the other day drifted back to mind.

"You can be a real asshole sometimes, too, he had said.

And while guilt did block her throat up a bit—fucking asshole couldn't even let her defend herself without feeling bad about it—this time he didn't make any such reprimands. Instead, he just shrugged, before diving deeper into the store.

He cleared his throat. "I just expected it be nicer coming from you."

"Does something about me secretly scream rich girl to you?"

Tom harrumphed. "Trust me, no one is mistaking you for rich. Uptight, however..."

"Oh, ha, hilarious, Tom. God! You're such an asshole," she laughed, but it was a mean sound, paired with a mean insult. It failed to have the desired effect, however. In fact, Tom seemed to have shifted from hating the insult to owning it and looked far too amused for her liking. Frustrated, Parker decided the best plan of extermination was a straightforward shot. Through gritted teeth, she asked, "...what kind of sci-fi book do you want?"

The rhinestones on his shoulders sparkled as he shrugged. "I don't know. I need to understand what gets nerds so fucking excited about this shit. Not too nerdy, though. Alright? I'm not trying to be a Trekkie or whatever."

There were so many things wrong with that statement that Parker wasn't sure what to pick first. So, she pinched the bridge of her nose to point out, "I have a feeling the so-called nerds making up your potential fanbase aren't going to appreciate being talked about like that."

"Who's gonna tell them—you?" he asked with a derisive glance over.

It was definitely true what they said about Tom Ryder; his effect on women was instantaneous. Parker just doubted the tabloids were talking about migraines.

"The sci-fi section is on the right," she sighed while pushing past him. It was one of the larger sections she had; it hadn't been a lie to say the books weren't selling all that well despite being her favorite. "What have you read before?"

The blank look he gave her was response enough.

"Ah, right, maybe... Altered Carbon?"

"Isn't that a tv show?"

"Well, yeah, but it was a book first."

He glanced at the book in her hand, but clearly wasn't impressed. Leaning on the shelf, he said, "why the hell would I read that if I could just watch it?"

"Sound logic," she tutted with a narrow eyed look. Parker returned the book with an eyeroll. "Fahrenheit 451?"

"Read it in high school. Not impressed."

She trailed the shelf while muttering, listing books in her head before subconsciously crossing them off the list of something he was likely to read and enjoy. "I guess that means you wouldn't like The Illustrated Man or The Martian Chronicles," she said to herself.

His arm brushed her aside to pluck out a familiar novel. "Nerds love this," he said while already flipping through the pages. She was surprised the size didn't scare him off immediately.

"Nu-uh. No way," she shook her head.

"What?"

"Dune is not a starter book."

He furrowed his brows crossly. "You don't think I'm smart enough to read this shit or something?"

You shouldn't ask questions you don't want the answers to, her mother's voice echoed in the back of her head.

"Reading Dune as your first sci-fi book is like jumping straight into the deep end," she told him in a much more diplomatic approach. "If a sixteen year old wants to start drinking, you don't give him scotch, you give him a fruity cocktail."

Tom huffed; first through his nose and then through his mouth but stuffed the book back onto the shelf anyway. To which Parker then had to put it back on the correct shelf with a huff of her own.

"Don't be a baby and just trust me that Dune isn't a starter book. Okay?"

"Well—what is? You're supposed to be the expert here."

"If you weren't so picky it would be a lot easier..." she deadpanned but returned to her search anyway. Tom didn't seem to like waiting, and scowled at her as she shifted past him. She ignored him as best she could while squatting down to the lower shelves. "Arthur C. Clarke is one of the best sci-fi writers. He established a lot of rules that still exist in writing today. And films."

Parker pulled one of his novels, before moving towards Asimov, and then finally to Sagan. They were all slimmer novels than Dune, but no less complicated.

"Contact is my favorite," she said, shoving the books into Tom's arms. His denim was rough on her hands, and she tried not to think about how feverishly warm his skin had been the last time she had been this close to him. Swallowing, Parker remained on task. "But any of these should be good starter books for you to get into sci-fi with."

He glanced at the choices warily. "My audition is next week."

"Then I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to finish these if you're really serious about wanting to get that role," she chirped.

Together, they wound back towards the front counter. The TRASH boxes sat in the middle of the aisle, and she carefully toed them to the side before trailing past. While she was pretty sure he had been joking about suing her, a workplace hazard was the last thing she needed.

"How do you remember all of this?"

"Where stuff is? I spend almost all of my time arranging books. I'm uptight, remember?"

She felt more than saw his eyeroll. "These books, the authors. You, like, know everything about them."

Parker paused. It definitely wasn't a compliment, but it definitely felt like it could have been. Then again, this was Tom Ryder. When she glanced up from the counter, she found that he already has his nose back in his phone, and the conundrum of compliment versus not was thrown out the window. Parker shot him an unimpressed look to say, "please tell me that you're not on SparkNotes right now."

It was his turn to pause. "I'm just... reading the descriptions."

"Maybe that's why you can't understand why nerds like these books," she argued, hands planted firmly on her hips now. "Why would I go to watch one of your movies if I already looked the plot up on Wikipedia?"

He ignored her point entirely to smirk. "So, you do see my movies?"

"Goodbye, Tom."

"Relax. I'm not going to spoil them, alright? What's the fun in that when I could read them instead, and then leave you a bad review when the books end up being awful?"

"You mean have your assistants leave me a bad review."

He didn't seem impressed at the jab but didn't defend himself either. Most likely because they both knew she was right. Parker shot him a smug smile that he promptly rolled his eyes at. "Hilarious. Just tell me how much the books cost so I can leave before stepping on a rusty nail or something."

"Didn't you see the sign out front? Can't come in without a tetanus shot due to liability reasons."

There was a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, but when she glanced up at him, Tom was wiping a hand down his face. "How much for the books, smartass?"

Parker was pretty sure she could upsell him. There was no way that he knew those three books, decades old with ripped pages, were only worth fifteen bucks together. And with all the Gucci name brand bullshit that he wore, she was pretty sure she could get away with telling him the price was a hundred dollars and he wouldn't even blink an eye.

But he was also a customer, a somewhat work acquaintance, and someone she really didn't want to hang around any longer than necessary. Not to mention her brother's pseudo boss, and someone that knew she was guilty of wrecking a far more expensive rug than she could ever pay to fix.

"Just consider them a loan," she said before she could second guess herself. When Tom raised his eyebrows so high they disappeared into his hairline, she waved a hand at him while half-heartedly returning to her job of book sorting. "If you're that put-off by it you can always pay me an agent's fee if you get the part."

He stared at her for a long moment, not necessarily computing, definitely hearing static, before Tom spared her an over-the-top eyeroll that surely had to have hurt to perform.

From his pocket he pulled out a couple of crumpled bills and slapped them onto the counter. He didn't even look at how much money it was. Just shook his head at her, glasses bobbing on his nose, before he was on his way out the door.

"Hey! Don't you want your change—?"

The door shut with a ting.

On the counter sat seventy-three dollars. Parker wasn't sure if she should be offended or complimented.

From outside there was the sound of an obnoxiously loud car engine revving, alongside the thrum of music, before it tore off down the street.

"What a fucking asshole," she grumbled with the shake of her head.

But it wasn't exactly an asshole thing to do, when she thought about it. And she would know; every exchange they had since being introduced had Tom acting like an asshole to her.

Or, well, not every exchange. Not when he had been, almost, nice to her at Gail's party, if only for a few moments when no one else was around.

"OH. MY. GOD!" a shrill voice shrieked across the store, bouncing off of bookshelves, as two boots went crashing towards the window. Parker was reminded in no gentle terms that they had not, in fact, been alone when Melissa smudged her face against the glass to peer out onto the street. "Holy shit! That was Tom Ryder! Tom Ryder! Are you kidding me right now? TOM. RYDER."

"Yeah, Jesus, I know who that was," she winced, pinching her ear when she thought the girl's high pitch yelp may have burst an eardrum. There was definitely a ringing as Melissa tromped around.

"You—he—I can't believe after all of this time you never once mentioned that you're friends with Tom freaking Ryder!" she squeaked.

"Well, hang on, we're not—"

"How long have you known him? How do you know him? Do you have his phone number? Ohmygod everyone is going to flip when I tell them that you know him. Tom Ryder!" Melissa shouted, phone already in hand as she started typing. "My friend, my dear friend and favorite bookstore owner, is best friends with Tom Ryder! Did you see his latest movie, Good Cop, Bad Dog? Ugh! He's so hot!"

"We're not friends," she said immediately, not even bothering to dispute the fact that Good Cop, Bad Dog was a puff piece in an attempt to market him for younger fans. "He's actually kind of an asshole."

The teenager shot Parker a scandalized look, mouth popped open into an O as her brows lifted to her hairline. "What? Are you kidding me right now? He just drove all the way out here to ask for your recommendation for a sci-fi book! His house is, like, fifty minutes from here with traffic. Don't call him that when you just became so cool."

Parker frowned. "How do you know where he lives?" she asked, before adding with much more intensity, "hang on a second, am I not cool?"

But Melissa was already moving on, the sound of facetime dialing on her phone as she darted back outside in hopes of catching another glimpse of the celebrity. Parker, in response, caught her head between her hands with a low groan.

And yet, she couldn't help but think about what Melissa said.

Tom Ryder was a total, grade-A asshole... right?

She cast a despondant glance towards the crumpled bills on the counter, then the box of books at her side, before fishing her phone out of her back pocket, and pressing the second number on speed dial.

"Hey," she said, "do you want to get, like, really drunk tonight?"

Colt didn't bother to ask why before he was checking what ingredients he had in his fridge and offering to invite Jody and Dan over for dinner. Sometimes, she really loved her brother.

#plot bunny #the fall guy #tom ryder #tom ryder x ofc #original female character #tom ryder imagine #series?

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lou-struck · 9 months

Text

High Score

Leviathan x reader

~You take Levi to a human world arcade, where he is ready to show off his skills.

W.C: 2.1K

*This was kinda hard to finish since this was like mid-mental breakdown. But I got this done and I am so proud of myself for doing it.

The summer heat of the human world is a welcome sensation on your skin as you drag a slightly sweaty Avatar of Envy down the sidewalk. As a notorious shut-in, Levi doesn't do well in the sun, and although you had only stepped out of the portal Barbatos had prepared for the two of you two blocks ago, he is already out of breath.

Suddenly, the Demon digs his feet into the pavement, preventing the two of you from moving forward. "MC?" pants, trying and failing to hide his exhaustion 'A-are we almost there?"

You see the familiar half-lit neon sign just a few doors away, "We are so close Levi. I promise it will be nice and cool inside; we can get something to drink and enjoy the Air conditioning."

"Air Conditioning," he repeats in an eager whisper and picks his head up with newfound strength. "Then what are we waiting for? Let's get to the arcade."

His orange and purple eyes are sparkling with determination as you walk the rest of the way to the old-school arcade, where you promised to show him all your favorite classic machines. The red-bricked building looks just the same as before you were magically whisked away to the Devildom those many months ago; the only difference on the outside is a touch-up of fire engine red paint on the double wooden doors.

Pulling open the faded brass door handles, you are met with a strong gust of air conditioning. This second wind hugs you like an old friend as you walk towards the mantra of beeps and boops the retro arcade machines are playing.

"What do you think?" you ask, playfully bumping into Levi's shoulder. "Does this place meet your expectations?"

"Uhh yeah," he exclaims, looking at the rows and rows of games. "This place is so cool Mc. It looks like the arcade in the manga, 'Help! I've been sucked into a game, and the Gorilla King kidnapped me instead of the Princess.'"

How he manages to say such a long title in one breath never ceases to amaze you. But the title gives you a pretty good idea of what game he should try first.

"How about we start with Donkey Kong?" you laugh, reaching into the pocket of your shorts and pulling out a large sandwich bag full of tokens. You toy with the zipper and take out two, one for him and one for you. "Each machine in here only needs one credit, so I think we will be set to play all day without having to get more."

He carefully takes the coin from your hand but doesn't put it into the slot right away. "A-actually you should play first, Mc," he mumbles shyly, stepping back from the temptations on the screen.

"I'll do my best, but I haven't played this in a while," you say, slipping your own token into the slot. "The theme song blares from the old yet well-maintained speakers as the text 'L E V E L 1' flashes across the screen.

You grab hold of the red plastic joystick and place your other hand just over the jump button. Mario's little legs manage to leap over barrel after barrel as he makes his little pixelated self up the ramps. You may be rusty, but muscle memory is working well for you. Within two minutes, you make it to the top of the platform without losing any of your lives. You look to Levi with a smile of victory.

"You're the GOAT Mc," he cheers, leaning over your shoulder to look at the screen, watching in fascination as Donkey Kong swipes the Princess over his shoulder and carries her further up the tower for you to chase.

"I don't remember this part," you murmur, trying to familiarize yourself with the next level. As you move, sentient little fireballs that begin to chase after you. Moving your joystick, you try to gain enough speed to jump over the flames, only to set yourself on fire.

Apparently, you can't jump over them like the barrels from the last level.

Oh shoot," you hiss, watching as Mario falls to the ground and a little halo appears above his head before the screen resets.

"You're good; you still have two lives left." he encourages with clenched fists.

"We got this," you say brightly, moving the joystick once more. You only manage to make it a few steps before accidentally running into the little fireball that was chilling on the blue ladder above you, making you lose yet another life. "No, no, we're good." You sigh, gritting your teeth. You are brought to the bottom of the ladder, and you manage to avoid the fireballs as you try to collect the support blocks that are holding up the structure.

"Keep going Mc; now's the time to take down the Boss," he says, watching as you remove the fifth support on the gorilla's platform. "Just as you are about to cross over to the last one, you fall down the gap you had created and lose your final life.

"That was fun, how about you give it a try." you suggest, "Do you still have the token I gave you?"

"But, you were so close." Levi cries, taking the loss much harder than you are. "Wait, what are those?" he points to the list of high scores that flash on your screen once the 'Game Over' screen fades away with curiosity.

"Those are the machine's high scores." You explain, "If you do well, you can put your name on the board for everyone to see."

"So these are my rivals." he breathes, his hand twitching in anticipation as he takes his token and slides it into the machine.

As the screen once again comes to life, you feel a shift in the air. A competitive energy radiates off of Leviathan as he grips the joystick. Although he has only seen you do the basics, he expertly navigates the first stage, leaping over barrels and climbing ladders without a hint of hesitation.

With the first half of the level cleared you are brought to the next phase, where you met your demise only minutes earlier. But Levi looks at the screen as if it is nothing more than a challenge and jumps in fearlessly, collecting vintage landlines, parasols, and support beams until the platform disappears.

With the first level being cleared in the blink of an eye, you realize that the two of you will definitely be here for a while.

"You're really good at this," You say, placing a hand on his shoulder. You notice how he seems to lean into your touch, and he spares you a glance as the screen transitions to the start of Level Two.

"Could you stay there?" he asks with a shaky voice. The screen in front of him does little to hide the glow on his face. If he wasn't holding on to the joystick, you know he would try to hide his blushing cheeks with his hands. "You might be my good luck charm or whatever normies say."

You only laugh and give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I can do that. I promise I won't leave your side."

"T-thank you Mc." he murmurs softly, "I want to get that high score."

The thing with the Donkey Kong arcade game is that each level gets longer, faster, and more challenging. You have never even seen what lies beyond the end of level two, so this is all new territory for the both of you.

But Levi never falters, staring at the screen with amber eyes filled with determination. Even with a few strands of his purple hair covering his face, he seems comfortable. You are so focused on watching his features that you don't realize that he has successfully cleared level two just as easily as the first.

And what neither of you realize is that a small crowd of arcade onlookers are watching your screen from behind you.

The barrels in level three zoom across the screen at an uncomfortably fast pace, but Levi just jumps over them as if they were nothing. A part of you wonders if his skills are just a result of his inhuman reflexes, but after seeing how winded the Otaku got walking down the street to the arcade, you push that through from your head.

"Woah, is that guy even human?" one of the onlookers gasps as Levi clears level 3 without breaking a sweat. "I've never seen anyone get this far without taking any damage." You turn around to see that quite a large group of about twenty-five to thirty people are watching your screen in fascination.

The shy Demon's breath hitches; he doesn't usually play games in front of a live crowd, but you stop him from turning around and seeing just how large the crowd is.

"You got this Levi. Don't worry about them; they are just watching you."

"Live?" he murmurs with wide eyes. Despite his efforts to hide it, he trembles slightly. "I'm a shut-in for a reason; all this attention makes my stomach feel like it's tying itself in knots."

"Just think of it as a live stream." you encourage brightly. "If you focus on the game, you won't be able to see them at all."

"An IRL livestream?" he repeats, a small smile appearing on his face. "I can work with that."

"I knew you could." You grin, giving him a little peck on the cheek for good luck. He lets go of the joystick briefly to touch his cheek, trying to savor the sweet sensation of your lips.

"Look out!" One of the onlookers shouts as a barrel comes towards the in-game avatar. The next level had started.

Levi's hands fly back to the machine and he avoids the obstacle in the nick of time. "Oh, my Diavolo, that was close." He mumbles just loud enough for you to hear. He turns his attention fully back to the screen and starts running up the ramp.

"Too close," you sigh as the crowd behind him only seems to grow in number and tenacity as they react to every little movement on the screen. The idea of flustering him with something as simple as a peck on the cheek is flattering beyond words, and you smile devilishly, planning to use this little method to distract him during your game nights.

"He's almost there." someone yells as Levi reaches the final platform. The Fireballs flicker menacingly, creeping across the screen, but they are no match for Levi's inhuman gaming reflexes. He climbs, collects, and leaps as if he were the one inside the game fighting for his life, holding the joystick as if it were his lifeline.

Aside from the machine, not a sound can be heard in the bustling arcade as everyone watches Levi grab the last support beam.

DK crashes to the ground, and the crowd erupts in cheers. Levi shyly looks over his shoulder to see just how many humans were cheering him on. He looks nervous, but this is one of the first times the Avatar of Envy has been so openly praised in a public setting. For once, he doesn't have to worry about not being as strong as Beel, as flashy as Mammon, or as put-together and OP as Lucifer. Today, he gets to be Leviathan, and people like him for it.

It puts a real smile on his face, even as the crowd thins and the arcade populace goes to play games of their own.

"Levi, look, you got the high score on the machine," you exclaim, pointing at the blinking Number One spot on the machine. Your interjection was a welcome, distracting him from thinking any more about his perceived shortcomings or petty comparisons.

The other scores look so much smaller than his, and a proud smile appears on the Demon's face as he types in the first three letters of his name.

L.E.V

"Should I start calling you Lev now?" you tease watching the cute way his brow furrows as he tries to figure out what nickname he should put instead.

He turns to look at you, accidentally pressing the submit button in the process. "No, I didn't mean to do that. Why am I so embarrassing?" he puts his head in his hands and stares at the score sheet.

Reaching into your bag, you pull out another token for him, "Now you'll just have to beat your own high score."

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me levi x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me fluff

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