#so dawn and lucas mean light <3 right!!
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from the persistent yells of a beloved mutual i finally drop sketches of the sunflowershipping kids
#poppy (masculine) and daisy (masculine) beloved .#sunflowershipping#lionhe(art)#pokemon#gym leader poppy#galactic leader cyrus#fankid#pokemon fankid#eldest kid got appearance from cyrus and name from poppy#youngest twins got apperance from poppy but name from cyrus#cos poppy is a flower and cyrus is the sun#so dawn and lucas mean light <3 right!!#hehe
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Unit Teambuilding - Sygna Suit Red
Alright, the BP Pairs are done, and I finished the Red alt discussion. Finally I am done.
........fuck, I forgot about the grid expansions.
General Overview
Not content to ruin my day once, Sygna Suit Red also gets something, in the form of his grid expansion. Thankfully, this is far, far less annoying, as DeNA seems to categorize original Kantrio more as "Free pair" than as "PokeFair," so they limited the possibilities. Unfortunately, this is my first time talking about him as a sync pair.
SS Red was the original powercreep unit. Brought about at the half-anniversary well before I was playing, he was miles ahead of everyone else. While SST Red and the new NC Red are certainly bullshit, absolutely nothing compares to the gap in power from those early days. Red was the unit, so significantly that people would prefer off-typing with him and Kantrio instead of using on-type damage for many types, for over two years with the game. The reason for his power was two-fold. One was Blast Burn. Other options had access to four-bar moves, but the lower accuracy combined with Piercing Gaze meant a power boost without the downside. Second, Red's self-setup is immaculate. Two turns of trainer move, Dire Hit+, sync gives him +1 crit, and you're at maximum offensive ability, with maxed out speed. There was very little that compared, so much so that even the first Master Fair in Leon was considered less potent due to his poor self-setup.
Over time, this stopped being as significant. Stronger moves than Blast Burn exist, and better self-setup certainly exists among limited pairs. Red didn't strictly need this help, but it's not entirely unwarranted. He fell off a bit. So to keep him relevant...they gave him some cosmetic tools.
Soften Up, Sharp Entry, Solar Flare 2, Sync Thinker, Standfast 9, and TM: Propulsion. All of these are solidly mid. At no point has Red ever thought to himself gee, I sure wish I could Flare Blitz right now. Sharp Entry is nice for easier setup on that first sync, but Soften Up isn't worth the price of getting to it. Sync Thinker is funny for the kaboom after sync, but it's one use per rotation so it's not the same as, I dunno, a multiplier. That's really the big loss; Red still has no natural multipliers for move damage, which is his big draw. Meanwhile Lance and Alder are out here getting fat 30% free boosts on goddamn Hyper Beam. The tradeoff is Propulsion, which means Red can now fast ramp with any other source of -1 cooldown. Which is great, except that one of Red's defining features is his 3-turn self-setup. So if you go for a fast-ramp, he's support reliant now.
Again, the grid is not the worst there's ever been, but it's very noticeably limited compared to what contemporaries have received. Like, not even Burn effects off Heat Wave for Gauntlet purposes. Just very small, almost superficial upgrades that don't seriously change how he was playing in the first place. Which I love. He'll never be bad, sadly for me, but at least this form will never see the light of top tier performance again.
EX and Move Level?
There are people that don't have him 3/5 EX? Weird, man. Anyway, mine's now 3/5 for sad reasons involving banner sharing, but I don't EX him and he can do alright.
Team 1: SS Red, SS Morty, Eevee Lucas/NC Leaf
This is the more or less defining set. SS Morty is Red's best partner by miles, while Eevee Lucas supplies special defense debuffing and even eases Red's setup if you're going for Propulsion sets. NC Leaf is a solid alternative, packing even more immunities for the team and extra Sun setting. But also she has Kanto Pride and Potion. Which means that this is like the only time Flare Blitz SS Red makes any kind of sense. That said, his trainer move only gives attack if he's already mega evolved, so I don't really think it's optimal.
Team 2: SS Red, Lodge Dawn/BP Janine, Blaine
If you're going for F2P, this is the set. SS Red hits like a truck even at 1/5 thanks to Blast Burn, and a little Sun application will power that up quite well. Blaine has a ton of matched theme skills and that coveted Sun. Lodge Dawn and BP Janine are really nice partners, thanks to Team Sharp Entry, but each has their own utility. Janine can easily buff his offense to max, so after one Dire Hit+ he gets blasting. Dawn offsets the defense drop on his trainer move, and can run Mind Games 2 as a lucky skill to debuff defenses. Up to preference.
Final Thoughts
Again, I've been a this a while today, so I'm cutting it a little short. Red has very little utility under his belt, and exists to sync under Sun and spam Blast Burn. Thanks to effective self-setup, he is able to do this with minimal consideration to partners. I could talk about the Propulsion set, but I am very opposed to 5/5ing Red. I don't think it's actually worth it. Besides, the only adjustment is "bring someone who also buffs crit," and Morty can do that fine.
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Residual Starshine
Pairing: Soccer player!Yuta x fem!reader
Description: You’ve experienced plenty of irritations in your life. For better or for worse, none of them are quite like Nakamoto Yuta.
Word Count: 19.3k
Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers ; fluff, smut, touch of angst
Warnings: my first published full blown smut scene (only one towards the end, nothing crazy), sexual references?, swearing, mentions of alcohol
A/N: Mingyu appears as a somewhat bad character in this, but I absolutely don’t think of him that way. As always, this is entirely fictional. If you want one song to vibe to while reading this, I was listening to Everybody Talks by Neon Trees a lot :-) this is the longest fic I’ve ever written and the first one containing smut that I’ve ever published, so please let me know what you thought!
Taglist: @junglewoos @insomni-writing @neowritingsnet
This is my contribution to @/leesmrk’s sports collab, but she deactivated (Dee I miss you) so @lucas-wongs has compiled the masterlist in her stead! The link to the master post with all other submissions is in my masterlist.
You didn’t expect to be spending your first morning before classes with your face smashed into your pillow, pressing the cotton over your ears. Yesterday morning had been perfectly lovely - you slept a solid eight hours and you only awoke to the beautiful morning sunshine greeting you through your blinds. All things considered, it was a very natural wake-up. However, the loud J-rock blaring through the floor from the apartment below you is the exact opposite of natural. Perhaps the music isn’t as loud as you perceive it to be, but you happen to take things quite personally when you’re woken up an hour early.
Except, you don’t take it personally enough that you force your body out of bed. Instead, you allow yourself to let out a loud groan of annoyance before you pull your covers over your head. Thankfully, the music shuts off about five minutes later and you drift back off to sleep.
When you awaken again an hour later, the sunlight coming into your room doesn’t seem nearly as friendly as it did yesterday. Still, this time you do force yourself to get up. You go through your usual routine - bathroom, change into your running clothes, and stretch. You hear no sounds of any stirring from your roommates as you get ready. It’s somewhat of a relief to have the apartment to yourself in the morning. You put your headphones in and step out of the apartment, trying to get yourself in the zone with your workout playlist while also doing a quick look around to see if anyone is out. One set of stairs and you’re at the door leading out of the small complex - a building with four apartments, two on the first floor and two on the second floor. Outside on the step leading to the sidewalk and there’s still no one around. Without a second of hesitation more, you’re off at a light jog. Half of the apartments in this area of your campus are dedicated to student athletes and there’s nothing you dread more than running, quite literally, into someone who’s by far your superior at this activity and who would judge you. As you run, the thought of your lower neighbor comes to you. You wake up early to go run - but they woke up earlier. At that thought, a frown subconsciously makes its way to your face. Shooting a quick prayer to the heavens that you don’t run into anyone, you continue on.
Though you hadn’t started running until this summer, you know your campus well enough in the years you’ve been here to find a nice path. That also means that, when you see pairs of runners ahead of you, you can make unexpected turns to avoid passing them. At one point, you veer out of the way of a pack of people who you assume is the running club. About forty five minutes later, you’re sweaty and more physically exhausted than when you had left, but the energy thrumming in your veins leaves you with a deep sense of satisfaction. You had successfully avoided every person you had come across on your run and-
You nearly open the door of your complex into one of your neighbors. Acting on reflex, you step back and dip your head, avoiding looking at him. “Oh, sorry.”
“That’s alright.” His voice is a smooth rumble and you look up, briefly forgetting about your sweaty and near-unpresentable state. He looks freshly showered, his skin smooth and just slightly sunkissed. Based on his physique, you would have guessed that he’s a student athlete, but his hair seems a little too long to match the stereotype. It’s a bit of a mane, a dark mop sitting atop the throne of his handsome face, and you think it suits him. As your eyes drift from his hair to his eyes to his nose and finally to his mouth, which has been set into the crooked angle of a smirk, it dawns on you that you’re checking him out very openly. Your face, already warm from exercise, turns blazing hot. After all of the hard work you went through to avoid embarrassing yourself this morning… “You’re cute, too, don’t worry.”
Several very intrusive thoughts come to you at once. By his very specific phrasing, he thinks you’re attractive. He also knows he’s attractive. The warmth of the complement fades to indignation at his cockiness. You press your mouth into a thin line and lower your head again, not making eye contact with him as you slip past him through the door. You’re not sure if his gaze follows you as you march back up the stairs to your apartment.
“One of our neighbors is a total ass!”
One of your roommates, Sowon, is lounging on your sofa as you sit at the small table in your shared living room, grinding the pen in your hand into your planner in frustration. It’s well into the afternoon now, the sun casting lines of shadows through your blinds, and you’re still hung up on what happened earlier. Sowon is also perfectly aware that you’re exaggerating, but she encourages you to continue. “The soccer neighbors or the volleyball neighbors?”
“Of course it’s one of the soccer neighbors! The volleyball neighbors would never do this to me.” You huff, eying the nearly empty container of cookies on the table.
“You’re aware that Johnny just brought those over so he had an excuse to hit on Yein, right?” Sowon releases a strand of hair that she had just idly wrapped around a finger, watching it twirl in the air. Your second roommate only sighs at the mention of her name, but doesn’t deny it.
“And Doyoung was the one who actually made them. So, by association, I am entitled to an equal share of cookies.” You consider Doyoung a friend - you shared a chemistry class with him once and he seemed to tolerate your presence, even enjoy it at times. He even sends you the occasional text still. “That doesn’t mean Yein isn’t going to be the one to give the container back, though.”
Yein frowns and opens her mouth but Sowon raises a finger to stop her. “Y/N is correct.”
With a shake of her head, Yein turns her attention back to you. “You were talking about the soccer neighbor?”
After you explain the situation as truthfully and dramatically as possible to them, they look at each other once before looking back at you. Sowon speaks first. “He’s definitely flirting.”
“Or he’s just like that naturally.” Yein counters. “Who flirts at eight in the morning?”
“You’d be surprised.” After you say that, her words sink in. You ran into him at eight in the morning, when he was looking refreshed. He’s a member of the soccer team, meaning he probably exercises in the morning. He also has pretty stereotypical rocker hair. “Holy shit, he’s the asshole who was blasting J-rock through the floor this morning!”
“Okay, never mind. He is a jerk.” Sowon wrinkles her nose.
“Was it at least good J-rock?” Yein prods.
You shrug. “It was alright, I guess. But that’s besides the point!” You slam your planner closed. “I’m giving him a piece of my mind the next time I see him.”
For several days, as classes start, you still get in your morning run and, each day, without fail, you’re woken up by the boy’s J-rock about an hour early. You fail to catch him at any time of the day until, finally, you’re on your way out of the apartment one morning. As you pull open the door, you nearly ram into him once again, though the situation is reversed. He’s the one who’s sweaty and warm, headphones firmly in his ears. That changes as he smirks, popping them out at the sight of you in the door. “So, we meet again.”
“Uh-huh.” You take the position of a displeased mother about to lecture a child, your arms crossed over your chest as you block the door. “You know, I have words for you.”
“Wow, already? People usually don’t have words for me until at least the third time we’ve met. Well, at least not more than a few choice ones like-”
You cut him off before he can inflate his own ego more. “Stop playing music so loud at six in the morning.”
He tilts his head like he’s confused, but the way his lips are quirked up tells you that he knows exactly what you’re talking about. “Baseless accusations. Maybe you should take this up with Jaehyun or Kun. I would never do such a thing.”
“Come on. I know it’s you.” The look you give him is entirely unamused, so he relents slightly, the smile falling from his face.
“What are you gonna do, report me to housing?” Before you can reply that, yes, that’s exactly what you’ll do, he continues. “I’ll tell them about the parties you and your roommates have. I’m sure they’d love coming out here at 3 AM one day just to tell you to keep it down. Almost as much as they’d love to come to my door at 6 to do the same.”
He starts walking towards the door and you turn your body inward, allowing him passage while silently fuming. “You-”
“My name is Nakamoto Yuta. You can say that if you need something to scream.” He gifts you a sly wink as he unlocks his door and lets himself in, leaving you so bewildered that you can’t think of a response at all.
“Stop messing with the soccer boys.” Sowon immediately reprimands you after you recount what happened. “You know the school will punish us before they punish them.”
“Yeah, and if this is your way of flirting, you need to think of something better.” Yein adds from the connected kitchen, tossing the stir-fry in her pan. “I’m not risking getting kicked out because you decided to mess with the soccer team’s star player.”
“To be fair, I don’t think he was really upset about the interaction. He seemed amused by my reaction.” You slump down, your forehead resting on the table. “And I didn’t know who he was until he said his name.”
“Well, he doesn’t know who you are-”
“And I don’t want him to.” You cut off Sowon. “I’ll just… deal with it.”
You get one more peaceful morning of running alone before, two days after you had first talked to him, Nakamoto Yuta comes jogging up to you. You don’t hear him at first. Music blares in your earbuds, drowning out most of the background noise of the morning, and your heartbeat in your ears fills out the parts of your internal sound profile that your music doesn’t quite reach. He comes up behind you, nearly making you jump out of your skin when you see the figure of another person jogging in your peripherals. Your pace falters, but you immediately try to right yourself and regain momentum, praying he’ll just pass by you without saying anything. Except he doesn’t leave. With an internal sigh, you turn your head towards him. He offers you a grin and air-taps over his ear. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you pull out your headphones. “What?”
“Great morning, isn’t it?”
You contemplate shutting your eyes so that you can purposefully trip and eject yourself from this conversation. “I guess.”
“It’s soccer season. You know that, right?” You narrow your eyes at him, but nod. “Our first game is coming up soon.” You don’t like where this is going. “You should come.”
“You must be hard-pressed for attendees to be randomly asking your neighbor to come to your game.” You reach for your earbuds again.
“Hold on, hold on.” You pause, then immediately wonder why you’re even giving him the time of day. Still, you relent for a moment. “If you come to the game this Saturday, I’ll stop playing music so loud when I wake up.”
“If you were a kind and courteous neighbor, you would just do that without having to threaten me to go to one of your games. And,” you state flatly, “I’ve already been to enough soccer games for the rest of my life, thank you very much.”
As you jog away, he doesn’t try to stop you again, but you could swear that he seems the slightest bit disappointed.
The next morning is more of the same as usual. The same loud J-rock that wakes you up an hour early, your same run, your same shower and breakfast and classes. You consider shifting your sleep schedule so that you wake up at the same time as Yuta, though you dismiss the idea because why should you change your lifestyle to adjust for his? You’d rather suffer the early wakeup.
Except, two days after he asks you to come to one of his games, the music stops. That first morning, you wake up at your usual time. You’re prepared to be upset at Yuta waking you early again, but when your foggy morning brain processes that you had woken up to your own alarm and not his music, you lie there confused. When you go out for your run not long after, you almost hope that you’ll run into him. There’s no way he’s just being nice is there? He has to be sick or something. To your disappointment, you don't run into him and you’re just stuck in your confusion. This goes on for three more days and each day you become more perplexed.
As you’re returning to your apartment after your classes that Friday, someone holds the door for you as you approach. “Thanks-” you start, then see who’s holding it for you. “-oh! Jaehyun!”
“Hey, uh, Y/N, right?” You smile at him, nodding firmly. You’re almost surprised that he remembers your name because you’d only chatted once before, back when you were moving in. He’s perfectly polite, almost shy-seeming, and completely different from his roommate. “What’s up?”
“Nothing, I’m just getting back from classes.” Thinking of his roommate… “I was actually wondering, um…” He gives you a confused look, waiting for you to continue. “Is Yuta doing okay?”
“Yeah, he’s fine. Why?” Jaehyun hadn’t been aware that you were at all acquainted with his roommate.
You appear equally as confused as he does. “Oh, I… never mind. If you don’t mind me asking, where’s your next game?”
He brightens up at that. “It’s a home game. Tomorrow at six, don’t miss it!”
You return his smile. “Great, thanks, Jaehyun! I’ll see you around?” He sends you off with a wave before you go your separate ways, entering your respective apartments.
Should you actually go to his game? You don’t owe him anything, you never agreed to his deal, but he did stop playing his music so loud. You’re not really doing anything on Saturday either… maybe you’ll bug Sowon and Yein so that they’ll come with you.
That evening, the apartment below yours is particularly busy. All of the soccer boys are home - Yuta, Jaehyun, Kun - and the volleyball and art boys are also over - Johnny, Doyoung, Jungwoo, Taeyong, Ten, and Sicheng. After all, as Johnny says, Friday nights are for the boys. Conversation flows from school to girls to boys to soccer, upon which Jaehyun shares a very interesting observation with his friends.
“By the way, it seems like you have another admirer, Yuta.” Jaehyun says as he takes a swig of his soju, recently acquired from the nearby Korean market and grossly overpriced.
“Sure,” Yuta responds, rolling his eyes, “who would that be?”
“You know that girl from upstairs? Y/N? She asked about you today and then asked me about our next game.”
“We haven’t even had our first game and you’re already collecting fangirls? Come on, Yuta,” Kun chimes in this time, breaking away from his conversation with Sicheng about their shared organic chemistry class.
“That can’t be right,” Yuta says, leaning back into the couch, “L/N Y/N? I’m pretty sure she hates my guts. I tried to make a deal with her to get her to come to the game and she just brushed me off.”
Doyoung narrows his eyes at his friend. “Y/N doesn’t just hate people for no reason. What did you do?”
Yuta raises his hands defensively and half-glares at him. “I didn’t do anything! I was just being myself and she decided to hate me.”
“The star-player, cocky version of yourself or the normal version of yourself?” Doyoung says, looking entirely unamused.
Yuta thinks back to all of the encounters he’s had with you and cringes slightly. “Listen, she was the one who was checking me out first-”
“Stupid.” Doyoung shakes his head before taking a sip of the water he’s drinking. “Some people take well to forwardness, but not her.”
“Are you sure? Because if she’s asked after me, I think that means she likes it.”
“I am going to spike a ball into your head, you-”
“Guys, calm down,” Sicheng says with a rather flat tone. Instantly, the two bickering boys stop, resorting to glaring at each other. Jaehyun gently shoves his roommate to get his attention and the room quickly returns to normal. Later, Doyoung passes Yuta a new bottle once his has run out, so he knows that the younger was never truly angry at him. The small party doesn’t go long into the night - tomorrow’s the first game of the season, after all - and, surprisingly, there isn’t much noise from their upstairs neighbor either.
That is mostly thanks to you. You had convinced your two party-addicted friends to attend someone else’s get together instead of hosting their own, so you ushered them out of the house at around ten in the evening. You know that they’ll come back fine in a few hours, rumpled and with their makeup half sweated off, buzzing with alcohol and the blaring music of whatever houseparty they were invited to, but you still tell them that your phone will be off of silent in case they need anything. Previous semesters, you might have gone with them, but, now, you just want to sleep so you can wake up early and go on your usual run.
The morning comes with your sleep uninterrupted by your roommates. After you awaken, instead of lying in bed and contemplating life for a while, you drag yourself up and to their rooms, where you find each of them peacefully asleep in their beds. Yein bothered to change out of her party clothes and into pajamas while Sowon didn’t, her dress half off of her shoulder and bunched up under her butt. Both of them are snoring away, hugging pillows and blankets.
The relief of seeing your roommates in good condition adds a spring to your step. A few minutes later, after you’ve stretched on the floor of your bedroom, you’re halfway out the outside door of the complex when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You know who it is even before you turn around.
“Y/N,” Yuta says, grinning much too brightly for how early it is. He doesn’t seem like he’s been out yet, which is strange. “Good morning.”
“Is it?” You lift an eyebrow.
“Perfectly!” As he talks, you begin to move farther out the door. Down one step. Down two steps. On the sidewalk. “Do you want to run together?”
“Shouldn’t you be just coming back from doing that?” You pull out your phone.
He quickly matches his stride to yours. “I decided to start running an hour later on the weekends. You know, sleep in a bit since I have the time.”
“I’m happy for you.” You select a song and put one ear of your headphones in.
“Are you coming tonight?”
“Didn’t I already answer that?” In all honesty, you feel like you should be more irritated with him than you actually are. He’s at least amusing to talk to. Plus, he stopped waking you up an hour early without you even promising to come to his game.
“Yeah, but then you asked Jaehyun about it.”
You stop moving, turning to look at him. He has another one of those infuriating smirks on his face and all of your previous enjoyment flies out the window. “Maybe I’m a huge fan of his.”
“What position does he play?”
“I don’t have to answer that!” Now, your face is already warming and you haven’t even begun your exercise. You turn away from him again and begin to slowly jog. “Bye, Yuta.”
“He’s a midfielder! And I’m a forward! You can see today at the game!” He calls after you as you get farther away, his voice getting more distant. Part of you feels bad for your neighbors - the windows aren’t exactly soundproof. You just wave a hand back at him in dismissal. A minute later, you look behind you. To your great relief, and mild surprise, he isn’t following you. He went the complete opposite direction.
“Will you guys please come with me? I promise some of the guys on the team are hot.” You tug on Sowon’s sleeve like a child does to their mother when they want something.
“I thought you hated college soccer because of your brother.” She flips a page in her textbook, scribbling down something in her notes.
“I don’t think this one will be so bad. Our team is supposed to be really good this year, right?” You look hopefully at her.
“How am I supposed to know? How is anyone supposed to know? Today is their first game.” She stops attempting to study, looking at you. “Also, I’m messing around. I’ll go with you.”
You look at your other roommate, who is in the middle of the very exhaustive task of sitting on your sofa and scrolling through her phone. She gives you a thumbs up. “As long as I can put on face paint!”
A couple hours later, you find yourselves in the bleachers surrounding the soccer field. It’s a modest stadium, not a stadium at all but just a normal soccer field with bleachers on either side and some decently sized flood lights for night usage. Not too far away is a moderately sized building that is a shared locker room space for all of the school’s athletic teams. Your school never invested much of its funds into soccer until recently, largely thanks to Yuta and some of the other members who are in their third or fourth year playing who made a name for your university in the sport. You also suspect that they probably talked the ear off of the provost so that he finally agreed to give them more funding, but that’s just a personal guess.
From your place on the home side of the bleachers, you have total vision of the field. Both teams are running warm-up drills and it’s easy enough to spot the people you know: someone from your physics class named Mingyu, someone you remember from a party named Baekho, and your lower neighbors, Jaehyun, Kun, and, of course, Yuta. His hair is pulled back from his face in a small ponytail at the back of his head and a small version of your university’s lion mascot stands out proudly on his red jersey.
You purposefully make a point to look for him last, only to find that he’s completely focused. Though it’s just shooting drills, he seems like he’s entirely in the zone, his eyes sharp and calculated. From what you can tell. The physical distance between you isn’t huge, but you can’t read his expressions that well from this angle.
The sharp scream of a whistle being blown indicates that there’s five minutes until the start of the game. The teams both do a bit of last minute stretching as they gather around the coach, a man you recognize as a biology professor. Finally, just as the clock hits six, they squeeze closer together, arms slung over each others’ shoulders in a tight circle, and do some sort of indistinct chant that ends in something like “Go Lions!”
After they break away, you can see the shift in atmosphere. Everyone is completely serious. It’s the first game of the season and they aren’t going to destroy the reputation they’ve built up for the last three years. You watch as Jaehyun moves to his position as a midfielder, Kun moves to his position as defense, and Yuta lines up in the position of forward center. A coin flip gives the kick-off to the away team, a school with a hawk mascot. Everyone shifts slightly on their feet and, for a moment, the world seems to be silent. The crowd leans forward in their seats.
Then, the whistle is blown.
The game gets to a roaring start. From how cautiously the other team is playing, they seem to know the reputation of the Lions - a team that shot up out of nowhere and suddenly has one of the best forwards in college soccer. You find yourself grinning as the ball barely makes it past your team’s defensive midfielder Mingyu before it’s in the Lions’ metaphorical hands. Your midfielders carefully juggle the ball between them, passing and passing and passing, before it reaches Jaehyun at center midfield. He does his job quickly and efficiently, making it almost look easy, and the ball meets the half-tip. From there, the ball is stolen by one of the Hawks’ defense at a failed pass to the second striker, Baekho. The ball shoots all the way to midfield.
For a few tense minutes, you watch the players run back and forth across the field, their eyes never leaving the target. The game pauses every so often when the ball gets kicked out of bounds, but it always resumes with just as much vigor. About a quarter of the way through the game, Yuta finally has his breakthrough. Jaehyun lands a kick directly in his direction, giving him the perfect opportunity. The strike is clean and so fast that you would have missed it if your eyes weren’t glued to the movements of the ball. All of the people on your side of the bleachers launch to their feet in roaring cheers as the ball sails past the opponent goalie’s right side and into the net. You’re standing alongside everyone else, your hands cupped around your mouth as you yell in excitement. It’s not often that you see such a well done shot from a college team.
The boil of the crowd’s blood dies down a bit as the game continues, but soars back up whenever something particularly exciting happens. In the third quarter, the Hawks manage to land a goal on your team, but Yuta comes in clutch a few minutes later and scores two easy goals almost one after the other. The final score is deeply satisfying at 3:1.
The opposing team try to be good sports about it, but they’re obviously sulking when they shake your team’s hands. After they break away, they’re all gloriously sweaty, which you’re sure Sowon is excited about. Some of the spectators immediately rush out of the stands and make their way down, friends and significant others of the players, you presume. Part of you wants to go down there and be a part of the excitement. Luckily enough, a distraction comes in the form of some of your other neighbors before you’re forced to make any decisions.
“Hey, Yein, Sowon, Y/N!”
When you turn, you see Johnny and Doyoung approaching. Yein stiffens slightly and you nearly start laughing at your friend’s embarrassed behavior. Sowon greets them first. “Hi, guys.”
“I didn’t know you guys were into soccer?” Johnny asks, his eyes shifting easily from Sowon to you to Yein, where they remain.
“Not really! But Y/N wanted to go today.” In her nervousness, Yein easily exposes you.
“I wasn’t the only one who wanted to go,” you huff, crossing your arms. Doyoung and Johnny exchange a look that makes you want to change the subject. “I guess you guys are here to support some friends?”
“Yup, Yuta, Kun, and Jaehyun,” Doyoung says, looking towards the field, where some of their other friends are already gathered around the star player. “They played really well. It’ll be a good season.”
“I hope so,” Sowon says, also watching.
“Well, we don’t want to keep you guys from them,” you say, wanting to eject yourself from the conversation before it turns in a different direction. To your displeasure, Johnny is a master of knowing exactly what you don’t want and then doing it anyways. You’ve never really talked to him before, but it seems that he’s similar to Yuta in that way.
“Why don’t we all go say hi?” The tall boy says, grinning. “You guys can tell me how those cookies were, too.”
There is no escape. Now, as you follow them down the bleachers, you reflect Yein in a way. She no longer looks quite as nervous, eagerly chatting with Johnny, while you grow increasingly more fidgety. It’s not that you don’t want to talk to Yuta. You just don’t want to give in to whatever game the two of you silently decided you were playing.
Then again, it is much more fun to play along than it is to outright reject him. Plus, today’s actual game was good. You’ll give him that.
Trying to seem as nonchalant as possible, you join the small crowd surrounding Yuta. If you thought he glowed normally, he absolutely shines now. There’s something about him being in his element at the very top of his game that makes you forget your irritation with him for a moment. In that instant, he’s a star. In that instant, he reminds you of your brother. Then, he spots you and opens his mouth.
“Y/N!” As he calls out to you, the girl he was talking to before you arrived seems perturbed, but he ignores her, pushing his way closer to you. “You actually came.”
You turn your nose up at him slightly. “No one ever said it was for you.”
“Of course not. You and I both know the truth, though.” The wink is nowhere near subtle or sly and you scoff at him. He seems unbothered. “This was your first Lions game, right? Did you enjoy it?”
You nod hesitantly. “I heard you guys were good, but I didn’t know how good. You played a near perfect game.”
The self-satisfied smile drops from his face. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“What do you mean?” Tilting your head, you match his somewhat grim face.
“There’s always better plays to make, better places to have been. You know.” He quickly tries to play it off like he’s uninterested rather than deeply bothered. You’re not sure you know what the truth is. You haven’t talked to him nearly enough to know. This is the first hint of something serious that he’s shown you. It almost makes you want to talk to him more to find out.
“Dude, shut up, you’re good.” From the side, Johnny butts in, elbowing his friend. You’re glad for the interruption, as you once again didn’t know what to say. The mood raises, with some of Yuta’s friends reenacting the best parts of the game, joking about his long hair, betting on what next week’s game will look like. A few minutes later, the Lions’ coach shouts for all of the team members to go shower and get changed, so the crowd slowly disperses.
After you’re alone with your roommates, Sowon and Yein can’t help but give you playful shoves as you walk home. Sowon is the first to verbalize her amusement. “I thought you hated him?”
You grumble under your breath, not saying anything in particular.
“You played a near perfect game.” Yein mimics, making your face burn.
“I do not sound like that! Also, I know a good game when I see one and I know when to admit it!” You kick your shoe against the pavement as they giggle at you.
From then on, it seems like you run into Yuta far too often for your own good. Every few days, you bump into him when you’re either about to go run or when you’re coming back from running. When you go with Yein to return Johnny’s cookie container, Yuta is in his apartment, lounging on the sofa and chatting with Jungwoo, your third volleyball neighbor. Once, when you’re studying at the school library because you need a change of scenery from your apartment, he runs into you. That time, you snap at him.
“Are you stalking me or something?”
He places a hand over his heart, pretending to be offended. “What do you mean? If anything you’re the one stalking me. I come here every Thursday after practice to study.” He huffs. “If you’re talking about when I was in Johnny’s apartment, I was already there before you even arrived. Unless you’re accusing me of being psychic, too.”
Your shoulders slowly lower at the guilt you feel. Cringing slightly, you raise your hands in apology. “I didn’t mean to imply…” You sigh. “Sorry. Can I buy you a coffee or something to apologize?”
Only after Yuta’s mock hurt shifts to a triumphant look do you realize the implications of your words. You’re really on a roll with implications today. He grins. “If you really want to.”
As you pack up your things, Yuta tells the few teammates he had come to study with that he’s going, and you walk out of the library side by side. Luckily, he actually makes for easy conversation and good company. You don’t know why he insists on the flirting and cockiness in your shorter interactions. As you walk to the campus coffee shop, you learn that he’s a studio art major. He learns that you’re a physical therapy major. You learn that he’s taking a statistics class that you had already previously taken - he put it off while you got it done in your first year - and, without thinking, you offer to help him if he needs it. After you order both of your coffees, finding out that he likes a lighter roast, you sit at a table in the shop with him. Silence comes and goes as both of you do some of the studying that you intended to do at the library. Every so often, he asks you a question. Usually, you answer him. You always return with a question of your own. You find out that his favorite of the bands that he used to blast through the floor is One Ok Rock.
“Sorry,” he finally says, appearing genuinely remorseful with the sheepish look on his face, “I didn’t have upstairs neighbors last year. I didn’t know you could hear it through the floor.”
“It’s fine. Sorry I snapped at you back then.”
It’s very strange to be on perfectly good terms with Nakamoto Yuta.
A few days later, when your brother sends you a ticket for the local professional soccer team, the Ravens, you almost feel like you should ask for a second so you can bring Yuta. Figuring it would be too much to ask, you plan to go by yourself, thankful that the game falls on a day the Lions aren’t playing. Plus, you can’t imagine what your roommates would say if you chose to go out of your way to take him with you.
You’ve taken to hanging out with the long-haired center forward, helping him with his math when he needs it and just… generally enjoying his company. That doesn’t mean you’re all sugar and smiles to him - it’s much more fun to mess around a little, make him think that you don’t like him quite as much as you actually do. The only thing you can think of that would personally offend him would be to say you’re going to one of his games and then failing to do so.
On the bus ride over to the stadium where the Ravens are playing, you’re thankful that you don’t recognize anyone from your school. You’re in the team’s colors, silver and forest green, and it would be clear to anyone where you’re going. Only after you get off of the bus do you realize just how many came to watch. The stadium is full, packed to almost capacity. That’s probably why your brother hadn’t gotten you tickets earlier - all of them were taken. He probably gave tickets to the earlier games to your parents. They would have thrown a fit if he had only invited you earlier, even if you are his favorite.
As you make your way to your seat, you remark on how strange it is to see your last name printed on the backs of the shirts of a bunch of strangers. The vibe of the crowd is completely different from that at your school’s field. While college students are excitable and energetic, these spectators are rabid. At any moment, there’s one hundred people yelling, someone trying to start a chant, someone screaming just for the sake of it. The air is buzzing with the anticipation of the crowd.
There’s a moment of sudden thick silence, like the moment before a dam is about to burst, where the crowd is silent. Then, both teams are stepping out onto the field and the stadium explodes. In the middle of the line of the eleven Ravens players, like he’s trying to blend in even though half of the crowd is chanting his name, is your brother. There’s a coin flip and it’s decided that the Ravens will start. He gets into his position, forward center, and the audience takes another breath.
You’re on the edge of your seat. Half of the game you’re standing. There’s a thrill about the experience that makes you so invigorated and proud beyond belief. If it had been strange seeing your last name on the backs of fans’ jerseys, it’s just as weird hearing the announcer say your brother’s name as he scores. If Yuta had been residual starshine, your brother is a shot of pure gold. He has long given up trying to make himself small where he glows the brightest, smiling as the whistle is blown for halftime. His teammates slap each other on the back when they go for water. Just as the game is about to resume, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket once. You figure that whoever is texting you can wait.
The other team makes a comeback in the second half, scoring on the Ravens and tying the score. You feel a bit bad for the goalie, a guy you know as Kim Yongsuk, who your brother had introduced you to in the past. He’s probably beating himself up over it. Still, the team doesn’t falter, doesn’t repeat their mistakes. It’s a hard game - from how close you are, you can almost see everyone breathing hard. Finally, with just a few minutes left to spare, the ball travels smoothly from the Ravens’ defensive line, to the midfielders, to the offense. Once it’s in your brother’s possession, it’s over. He shoots and he scores.
To be fair to the other team, they try to recover, but it’s just not enough. Time is called and it ends 2:1. The Ravens have won. You find yourself clapping and cheering with the other fans, shouting your elation to the huge stadium. As things begin to wind down and the teams shake hands, people begin to trickle out of the stadium. A satisfied hum is in the air, leaving a smile on your face, too. Perhaps soccer games are the reason you like parties, too. The warm, excited atmosphere, the noise, forgetting about the outside world to become absorbed in something else.
Finally, reality calls again after all of the players filter out to their respective locker rooms. You pull out your phone, about to send a text to your brother. However, when your phone comes to life, the first thing you see is a text from Yuta.
NaYu: Are you at the Ravens game??
An instant later, right on cue, you hear his voice. “Y/N!” Upon looking up, he’s bounding down the aisles towards you, also donning forest green and silver. Watching him weave through the rest of the people trying to leave, you wouldn’t be surprised if he would have slid down the railing if there weren’t other people there. Nonetheless, it doesn’t take long for him to reach you. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Why not?” You tilt your head, smiling slightly. You’re in too good of a mood to outright lie to him.
He blinks. “I thought you hated watching soccer.”
You hold your hands behind your back, swaying playfully. For once, he’s the confused one. “I don’t know what gave you that impression. I really enjoy seeing the Ravens play.”
“But… you said…” He furrows his eyebrows. “Didn’t you say you’ve seen enough soccer games to last your whole life already, or something?”
“I changed my mind.” Your phone buzzes in your hand.
B/N: You still in the stands? I’m coming up.
At that, you freeze. Yuta nudges you. “You okay?”
“Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” You’ve kept the fact that your brother is the Ravens’ star striker away from everyone, besides your roommates, and you can’t even begin to imagine how Yuta would react if he found how. What would he think of you? “You can head out without me, Yuta. I’m waiting for someone.”
The concerned expression doesn’t leave his face. “Are you sure? It’s kind of late-”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine, I’m-”
“Y/N!”
You turn just in time to see your brother jumping the gate blocking off the entrance to the field from the stands. Most of the stadium has cleared out by now, ushered out by staff, leaving very few people. Your brother has a hoodie on with his team’s colors, the hood up and partially blocking his face from distant onlookers nonetheless. You cringe internally as he jogs up to you, not seeming tired at all, and you greet him as he engulfs you in a warm hug. “Hi, B/N.”
“I’m glad you could make it. It’s not often that I get to play for my favorite sibling.” You’re looking at your brother, but you’re sure that Yuta has a shocked look on his face as he connects the dots. Now that your brother has directly stated who he is to you, there’s no avoiding it. He looks past you and realizes that you’re not alone. “Who’s this?”
“I…” Now that you’re actually looking at Yuta, you realize he’s entirely starstruck. He looks like he’s stuck in one place, his eyes wider than normal and full of awe.
You take over for him. “This is Yuta. He’s my friend from school and our team’s center forward.”
“It’s nice to meet you, I’m B/N! Since Y/N finally decided to show her face at her own team’s games, I heard you guys are doing well this year. Go Lions!” He raises a fist, giving Yuta a sunny smile.
Yuta blinks hard, looking almost like he might pass out. “Y-yeah. We’re doing alright, I guess. Thank you for your support.” He reflexively dips into a shallow bow, making your brother chuckle.
“You don’t have to be so formal. Any friend of Y/N’s is a friend of mine.” He elbows you not-so-gently. “Y/N! Tell me next time you want to bring him. I’ll throw in a second ticket.”
Yuta unfreezes a bit and looks at you. “You don’t bring Yein or Sowon?”
You shrug. “I don’t like to bring only one of them. It feels unfair to the other.”
“Still, I’m glad to see that you’re not lying about having at least one friend.” Your brother gives you a wicked grin and heat fills your cheeks.
“I have friends!” You insist, clenching your fists at your side.
“Do you?” Yuta teases, making you press your lips together in a look of indignation.
Before you can counter him, your brother interjects. “I hate to part with the two of you, but I have to leave.” He steps back, waving a hand at the two of you. “See you!”
“I hope you stub your toe on the way out!” You shout back at him as he retreats.
“Hey, this toe is worth a lot of money! Love you, too!”
There’s a period of silence as you watch your brother disappear. Yuta clears his throat. “Do you want to go back?”
“Yeah.” You follow him wordlessly for a while, making your way out of the stadium. He walks by your side, his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t seem upset, just a bit shocked still. As you approach the bus stop, you finally speak up. “Did you come with anyone else?”
“Some of the guys from the team. I told them to go ahead without me so I could talk to you.” Of all the things he’s ever said, that makes your heart feel strange. A tiny flutter of a butterfly’s wings, if you will.
Then, as you make it to the bus shelter, you turn to him, grabbing onto the edge of his sleeve. “Yuta, promise you won’t be weird after this?”
He blinks, not fighting your grip. “Why would I be weird?”
“Just… I don’t really tell people about my brother. I don’t want you to think any differently about me because of it.” This level of vulnerability isn’t something you usually show and it feels foreign, unfamiliar. When you told Sowon and Yein about it, it didn’t feel this way. Yet, standing under the shelter with Yuta, his deep green sleeve in your hand, his eyes on yours, the light of the city falling faintly on your faces, you feel your heart pound even harder in your chest.
“I already liked you before I ever knew that.” He reaches up oh so slowly. You don’t know what he’s going to do. Touch your cheek, pat your head, kiss you? Before you can find out, the bus pulls up with a loud exhale, spewing exhaust. The doors open and the driver looks at you expectantly as you turn and get in. Yuta follows you, silent. Both of you pay your dues and sit down, side by side, his sleeve brushing yours.
You know exactly what it is about him that drives you insane. At the same time, you have no idea. While you don’t want things to be different with him after tonight, you also desperately wish for the opposite. You’re tempted to slap yourself in the face to try and wake yourself up from whatever strange dream you’re happening, but you don’t know how the boy next to you would react.
The ride passes excruciatingly slowly, as does the short walk back to your complex. Finally, as you’re standing in the stairwell, about to part ways with him, he speaks. “Do you want to study together tomorrow?”
At that, such a normal suggestion, you smile. “Sure.”
He reflects your expression. It’s a familiar look on him, which you’re grateful for. “I’ll text you. Goodnight, Y/N.”
The next day is entirely ordinary. It’s like the previous night never happened. Yuta is perfectly normal, perfectly flirty, perfectly infuriating. In fact, the entire week after is normal. You go to the Lions game, cheer on your neighbors, and pretend to be difficult with Yuta after the game. He’s always so hard on himself after his games, remarking on what he believes are the many things he could have done differently to play a better game, despite scoring all of the team’s goals and securing wins every time. You hope that you talking to him afterwards raises his spirits just as much as you enjoy it.
Then, one Saturday, you’re out running when Yuta jogs up to you. Once again, he scares the shit out of you, making you nearly trip. “Hey, Y/N.”
You tear out your headphones, giving him a look. “Have you tried not jumpscaring me?”
The shrug he gives you looks strange, as he’s jogging slowly next to you when he attempts to emote. “It’s kind of funny.” You grumble under breath about showing him what’s funny, and he continues. “Do you want to run together on the weekends?”
“This again?” You say, frowning.
He rolls his eyes. “Listen, I know you’re lonely. Since you come out to my games, I thought I should do you some sort of favor in return.”
“I also help you with your statistics homework.”
“Anyways, you’re in luck because I also don’t have a running partner. It’s a lot easier to set a pace and keep moving if you have someone with you.”
You know he’s right, but it doesn’t make you feel any better. When you’re running, you’re at your most vulnerable - sweaty, tired, out of your element. There’s plenty of reasons you shouldn’t want him to run with you. “You have to run so much faster than I do. I would just slow you down.”
“Not really,” he says, looking at your feet as you jog next to him, “see? We’re both doing fine right now.”
You realize that he’s right. You keep moving wordlessly for a minute, until you speak quietly. “Would you really not mind?”
You focus on his hair bouncing as he takes each step for a while before you look at his face. In the morning sunlight, he gives you a pure smile. “Not at all.”
On Saturdays and Sundays, he’s waiting for you just outside of the complex at seven in the morning with his hair tied up to keep it out of his eyes. He easily matches his pace to yours. He’s always much more awake at that hour than you are, but the quiet encouragement he whispers whenever you slow down help perk you up. It takes you a little while to realize that he’s doing something very similar for you to what you do for him after his games.
It’s a cloudy Sunday morning. Usually, you don’t talk a ton while you’re running together, but it seems that his curiosity has gotten the best of him. “What made you want to start running?”
“Hm?” You hum, snapped out of the world that was just your feet thudding against the ground and the sound of your breathing in your ears. “Do I have to have a reason?”
“People usually don’t just randomly start doing it. Maybe they want to get stronger or lose weight. Maybe they want to impress someone.”
“It’s not about impressing anyone. I’m doing this for me.” You say it firmly, confidently. His pace stutters and he watches you continue forward. There’s something in your voice that makes him incapable of moving, and all he can do is stare at you for a moment, his heart speeding up in his chest for reasons other than the running you’re doing. When you realize he isn’t following, you turn towards him, jogging in place. The way your face is illuminated by the sunlight being cast upon it makes him sure he’s never met someone as incredible as you before in his life. “Are you coming?”
You don’t know what’s up with him. His expression is something you’ve never seen but can’t quite place. He catches up in a few bounds and you resume your run.
The next Friday, you receive a strange text.
Unknown Number: Hey, is this Y/N?
You contemplate whether or not you should respond, but you get a second text.
Unknown Number: This is Mingyu from physics
Now, that’s strange. You start to type out a reply.
Y/N: Hi! What’s up?
Kim Mingyu: I was wondering if you could help me with the lab report from last Friday? I’m having some trouble
Y/N: Sure, do you want to meet in the library later?
Meeting up with someone who you’ve never really talked to before is strange. Mingyu tries to joke with you, but something about them falls flat. You try your best to laugh and help him anyways, figuring it’s just stiffness from interacting with someone new. Though it’s nice to finally have a physics buddy, you’re almost relieved when you go home.
As you approach your complex, you see a small group formed on the lawn outside. Sicheng and Ten are standing on one leg, holding the other leg up and trying to knock each other down. A small smile comes to your face when you realize that Yuta is in the group, cheering for his friends. Around the same time you see him, he sees you and his eyes light up. He’s quickly getting to his feet and bounding towards you. Taeyong calls after him with a frown. “Yuta, you’re next!”
Still, he sidles up next to you as you walk closer to the circle. “Y/N! Where are you coming from?”
“Just the library. Actually, I was meeting up with one of your teammates, Mingyu. We were working on physics.”
The smile he wears twitches downwards for a moment. “I didn’t know you had a class with him.”
“It wasn’t worth mentioning. I never talked to him before today.” You shrug, shifting the backpack on your shoulders. “What are you guys doing?”
“One-legged fight. You should join.” He suddenly has a sadistic gleam in his eye and you take a tiny step away from him.
“And give you an excuse to push me on the ground? No thanks.”
“Aw, Y/N, I’m hurt. You don’t think I would just push you if I really wanted to?” At his proclamation, you shake your head, trying to force down a smile but failing miserably. “I’m kidding, of course. I would never.”
It’s almost sunset and he looks glorious in the golden light, the sun reflecting off of his dark hair and making his eyelashes cast long shadows on his cheekbones. If you were bolder, you might say something about it. Instead, you let out a snort of laughter, looking away from him. From the circle a few yards away, cheers erupt. Ten is curled on the ground, dramatically bemoaning his loss to Sicheng, who stands proudly over him. Taking that as his cue, Yuta gives you a small wave and rejoins his group.
When you enter your apartment with a small, content smile on your face, Yein looks up from her cooking. “Good day?”
“You could say that.”
The next morning, thankfully, is a Saturday. Yuta is waiting for you, looking just as fine in the morning sun as he did in the evening rays. He’s stretching as you approach him. “It looks like it’ll be good weather for the match today.”
“It better be.” He says it lightheartedly, but you can really imagine him threatening the weather. He’s told you that he hates the rain, partly because it makes it unpleasant to play but also just because it dampens his mood. The team is lucky they’ve gotten good weather for the season so far.
As you’re running, you remember what something you needed to ask Yuta about. “Hey, are you free on Wednesday night? My brother offered me two tickets for his game.”
His eyes light up. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah?” You tilt your head, trying to keep your pace steady. “He said he would pull through, so he did. You made a good impression on him.”
“I am totally free. Completely. Did I tell you how free I am that day?” The child-like excitement in his voice makes you smile in return.
“Wow, with how not free you are, I guess I should invite someone else,” you tease and he lets out an uncharacteristic whine.
“Y/N, I know you’re messing with me, but if you take someone else after asking me, I will never forgive you.”
Now it’s your turn to pretend to be offended. “I see how much our friendship means to you, Mr. Nakamoto.”
He sighs dramatically, bringing a hand to his forehead as he acts like he’s going to faint. “You’re so serious.”
You stick out your tongue at him. “You’re such a fanboy.”
“I can’t help it. Your brother is just so cool. I don’t know how you don’t try to hang out with him literally all the time.”
That gives you pause. You feel your feet connect with the earth repeatedly for a minute, thinking about your brother and your complicated but not complicated relationship. You trust Yuta with so many things, so you may as well tell him. “A few weeks ago, when I said I was only doing this for me, I lied. Just a little.” You say, not looking at him. You’ve never really admitted it out loud before. “I want to get good enough to run with my brother. I almost never see him these days, but if I can start getting up to run with him sometimes… it’ll be like when we were kids. Or something. I don’t know.”
“He’s important enough to you that you want to change something about your life to spend more time with him,” Yuta says quietly, keeping pace with you. “I hope he knows how much you care about him.”
“You don’t always need to change to show you love someone. That’s why it was only partly a lie when I said I’m only doing this for myself.” You flash Yuta a smile, which he returns. Though your lungs burn and your legs ache, the air you breathe in is cool and fresh. “I’ll race you back.”
His eyes flash. “Challenge accepted.”
The next time you see Yuta is later that day, at his game. He’s serious, as usual, in the zone. As the season goes on, the bleachers fill up more and more with students eager to see the Lions throw sparks. The games continually get harder, but they manage to clutch this one out with a final score of 3:2.
Despite the win, Yuta still seems somewhat down. Afterwards, you’re about to go up to him to describe the glorious moment when he slid between two of the opponent defenders and scored, but you’re stopped by a heavy hand on your shoulder.
“Hey, Y/N.” To your surprise, Mingyu is the one approaching you. He doesn’t take his hand away.
“Oh! Mingyu, hi.” You try to smile at him, but your eyes wander over to Yuta briefly. “Good game today! You guys played solidly.”
“Ha, thanks. Could’ve been better on my part, I’m always looking to improve, you know.”
“I get it,” you respond, nodding.
“Are you possibly free on Wednesday night? We have a lab due on Friday and I just think it would be easier to do if we can work together, ya know?”
“Oh, um, I’m actually busy then.” You force yourself to not look at Yuta. “Does Thursday night work instead?”
“Sure, whatever. I’ll see you then.” The way he squeezes your shoulder once before stepping away to talk to some of his own friends makes your stomach turn. Why is he being so… weird?
Shaking your head, you turn back to who you had intended to greet in the first place, only to find that he had been looking at you already. What’s with the look in his eyes? Why is everyone being so weird? Ignoring the feeling, you join his circle. Yuta moves closer to your side, his arm looping around your waist as he does so, pulling you in slightly. The touch is brief but intimate, sending a bolt of electricity through your body. You swear that you can almost feel the heat of his skin through your clothes. Then, his arm is back at his side like nothing happened. You want to speak up, say what you were planning on saying before, get your mind back on a normal track, but you find that Johnny, Ten, and Jungwoo are already recreating the scene, making Yuta smile through the veil of whatever emotions he’s experiencing right now.
When the entire team heads over to the locker rooms to clean off the shine of sweat and dirt that had been accumulated through the game, you can’t help watching him. As he goes, you catch flashes of his smile while he congratulates his teammates. Something stirs in your heart.
That night, you dream of healing smiles dressed in a lion’s mane of black hair. That same visage is waiting for you the next morning when you go out to run but, here outside of your head, he’s solid, real, more than heated touches and soft caresses. At the same time, he is those things. Or, so you wish him to be.
When you study with him the next night, he is as he usually is, theoretically. Sometimes it feels like his eyes linger longer than usual, his hand rests a little closer, he smiles a little wider. It’s nothing you can confirm because, to any normal gaze, he seems entirely the same. Perhaps you’re confusing yourself into imagining things. Has his flirtatious nature finally tricked your brain into thinking he likes you?
Sometime that evening, you go to the bathroom and stare at yourself in the mirror. You pat your face rather harshly to try and drive some sense back into your brain. You should tell him. This new boy who has become so close to you. Why are you afraid of it going wrong? You emerge from the bathroom with the same feelings that you entered it with and, there he is, looking up at your return.
The next day, Tuesday is a brief reprieve from the torture of trying to figure out his feelings through his actions. Then, your brother’s game comes. Your chatter fills the space between you on the bus ride to the stadium, him telling you about the anime he’s watching, you talking about the drama you’re watching in response. He jokes about culturing you by getting you to watch a show with him.
Watching your brother’s game with Yuta at your side is an entirely different experience. While you think you normally have pretty good commentary on your own, he provides an extra edge, excitedly explaining why some players choose to do some things or making observations about small moves that you ordinarily wouldn’t notice. Both of you absorb the atmosphere of the stadium, bursting into cheers whenever something incredible happens, screaming extra loud when your brother scores.
During halftime, when the roar of the audience is less deafening, you realize that you’ve never asked Yuta about his background with soccer before. You nudge him. “Hey, Yuta? How long have you been playing?”
He taps his chin, trying to think back. “Probably since I was five?”
“No wonder you know so much,” you say, “I’m talking to an expert right now.”
“You know too much for just a casual viewer,” he says back, snorting, “don’t tell me you don’t have some experience.”
“I only played a bit when I was younger, but I wasn’t any good. It was always more fun to watch B/N. I ended up just taking care of him whenever he pulled something or fell and scraped his arm… you know.” A wistful smile forms on your face. “It started off as just kissing bruises like my mom would, but then it turned into intense Googling whenever I couldn’t immediately figure out what was wrong with him.”
“Maybe you can kiss my boo-boos whenever I get hurt, too, then.” He’s smirking, the ever-familiar gleam of mischief in his gaze.
You force yourself to roll your eyes at him, ignoring the feeling of your heart jumping in your chest. “You’d better not get hurt, Nakamoto.”
“Only because you asked so nicely.”
A few minutes later, the game resumes. This matchup is considerably more difficult than the game you had attended before. Each time the Ravens seem like they’re close to scoring, the opponent defense sends it back towards your end of the field or the goalie successfully blocks it. All the same, your defense and goalie do their jobs, too, leading to a brutal back and forth. By the time the game is over, the only goal that had been scored was the single one your brother got in the first half.
“Ah, that was tense. They almost took it back there for a second.” You stand, stretching your arms behind your back to loosen them up a bit. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah, sure.” Yuta gets up as well, following you as you begin to climb the stairs. “Is your brother not coming to see you this time?”
“He told me he has some press deal after this.” Once you’re in a more open area, Yuta walks next to you instead of behind. You can now see that he’s frowning.
“Does he keep you a secret on purpose?”
“I asked him to.”
“I can’t imagine keeping someone like you hidden like that.” At that strange comment, you stop, looking at him. He seems to be taking the issue very personally.
“It’s easier this way. No one prying into my life, no one asking me for autographs from him all the time. People know who our parents are. What’s so important about an unknown sister?” Is there something else he wants you to say? The look on his face is something you’ve only seen maybe once or twice. He’s in a strange mood, that’s for sure.
“I get it, it’s just…” He sighs, looking at the ground with his hands shoved in his pockets.
“Yuta.” He finally meets your eyes. “It’s important to me that what people think about me is what I show them first. I don’t want to be a reflection of my brother, no matter how much I love him.”
“Is he the reason you didn’t want to talk to me at first?” There’s amusement in Yuta’s voice again, that strange seriousness gone.
You start to walk again and he keeps pace. “No, that was just because you woke me up at six in the morning.”
“I guess both of us have experiences that precede our reputations then, huh?”
The bus comes not much later. The previous reminder of how you met has him offering you one side of his earbuds, saying that this would be a better introduction to J-rock than the one you had before. As you listen, you’re tempted to lean your head against his shoulder or take his hand, which is resting oh so close to yours. Instead, you just sit still and look out the window.
After you get off of the bus, the topic of shows you both like makes a return.
“I will take it upon myself to expose you to great art. Are you free tomorrow? We have to start immediately.” Yuta begins to pester you, practically bouncing as you walk.
“Actually, I’m busy tomorrow. I’m working on physics with Mingyu again.” He doesn’t initially not react to your first statement. However, when his teammate’s name comes out of your mouth, he frowns.
“Of anyone…” The sudden change in his attitude catches you off guard. “Why him?”
“I don’t choose who’s in my classes. What’s wrong with you? I thought you got along with your teammates.” You’re nearing your complex at this point. The lamp posts bordering the sidewalk cast long shadows on the ground as you walk.
“In a team context, they’re fine. Usually. Just, that guy…” He’s scowling now, making you frown deeply in return.
“What about him?”
“I don’t know, Y/N.” He pauses, but then his feet stop moving a moment later. “Fuck it, I do know. He’s not a good person. He’s a manipulator. He’s a good manipulator, but he’s bad at lying when you actually confront him-”
“Yuta, you’re being ridiculous. Even if he is, I’m strong enough to take care of myself.”
“Y/N, he was with me at that first game! The one where I found out about your brother? What if he saw? He’s the type to use information like that to get what he wants. What if he-”
“What if he what, Yuta?” You glare at him, anger muddled with some other hurt now filling you. “He hasn’t done anything. He isn’t going to do anything. Our ‘secret’ isn’t going to get out. I can take care of myself.”
With that, you brush past him, into the complex, into your apartment. Thankfully, your roommates aren’t in the common area, so you safely make it to your room. Once you’re there, you shove your face into your pillow. You consider screaming into it, but you know he’s probably in his own room, where he could hear you. Instead, you just heave breath after frustrated breath.
You don’t know why you snapped at him. Actually, you do. It’s the fear that he’s actually doing what he accused Mingyu of. After every word you’ve exchanged, every conversation, you should be confident that he’s not like that. But, you’ve never been in this situation before. What if he…
It’s a stupid notion and you know it. That’s just the surface. Another layer of your feelings peels away. You hate when people are too protective of you. You want to make your own decisions, to learn for yourself. You hate when your brother is too protective of you and you hate when Yuta is.
That’s not even all of it. Finally, you reach the root of your aggression. What right does Nakamoto Yuta have to try and be protective of you when you aren’t even together? Was that the concern of a friend or the concern of a jealous lover?
You curl in on yourself even more tightly, breathing through the pillow under your face. No one has ever flirted with you as much as he has. You’ve never been so ridiculously on and off with someone before. Still, neither of you are willing to answer the question.
You’ve never actually fought like this with him before.
Perhaps he hates you now that you’ve thrown his warnings back in his face.
The next day, after your classes, you force yourself to go to the library to meet Mingyu, Yuta’s words heavy in your mind. As you work, you can tell he’s still trying desperately to get on your good side, even emanating Yuta in a strange, off-balance way. It’s not amusing when he does it.
Finally, the subject you’ve been dreading comes.
“Are you a fan of the Ravens? I think I saw you at one of their games once.”
You swallow back disappointment. Mingyu is the worst fear of your insecure self and you finally have to come face to face with it. “I guess you could say that.”
To your surprise, he doesn’t take it farther than that. If Yuta’s right about him, then it’s probably just one piece of a larger goal. Though you never cared much for Mingyu, it doesn’t feel good to see things begin to unfold.
Not seeing him for two days in a row brings your mood down more than you’d like to admit. At the same time, you’re not ready to apologize yet. You don’t know what exactly is happening on his end, you never know, so when you go outside to run at your normal time on Saturday, you half expect him to be there.
He isn’t. And you don’t run into him on your way back, either. The game it is, then.
As the day progresses, the sky gets increasingly cloudy. In the evening, when the Lions and their opponent team are out on the field running final drills, it’s easy enough to tell that a good number of people had looked at the forecast - the crowd in the bleachers is much thinner than usual. The sky could open up and pour its soul out onto all of you at any moment.
You don’t even bother pretending that you’re not watching Yuta. As he steps off the field for their usual pre-game pep talk and chant, you swear he makes eye contact with you. Normally, he wouldn’t even bother looking, because he’s usually confident that you’re there. You’re not sure what the look in his eyes is now.
The coin toss decides that the other team will start with the ball. That might have been the first omen about the game. Then again, maybe the other team is just… better. Their defense is at least tighter than yours. At halftime, they have a point up on the Lions, 0:1. Yuta seems to take this very, very personally. Within ten minutes of the game restarting, they tie the score back up.
At about three quarters of the way through, it begins to rain. The referee deems that they’ve played far to stop, so the match continues. Almost like they take the poor weather as a sign, the rival team scores nearly immediately after.
You pathetically huddle under a single umbrella with Sowon while Yein shares one with Johnny. The ball slips rather than flies around the field, back and forth, back and forth, until, finally, with barely any time to spare, it’s at Yuta’s feet. The world seems to move in slow motion, then. His right foot moves backwards. It swings forwards. He makes contact.
He misses.
You try not to gasp. Yuta himself seems to be in shock, with how he goes stiff for a moment. Then, he’s back in action, targeting where the goalie had thrown the ball. This time, it’s not enough. A minute later, after another brutal back and forth, the scream of the whistle soars above the sound of the rain. It’s over. The Lions have met their first loss of the season.
The two teams barely wait around to shake hands before they’re rushing off to the locker rooms, away from the rain. Yuta moves slower than the rest, seeming to drag his feet through the muddying grass. Ahead of him, all of his teammates are moving quickly, but moping nonetheless. From your position, you see Mingyu kick the shins of someone you recognize to be one of the younger players. You see Kun’s mouth move as he tells him off, but they’re far enough away and the rain is loud enough that you can’t hear. If you hadn’t been displeased already, you are now.
Might as well kill two birds with one stone, right?
“You guys can go back,” you say, taking a step out from under the umbrella after you’re out of the bleachers with your friends. When Sowon tries to shove her umbrella in your hands, you push it back. “I’ll be fine! It’s only a short distance.”
She narrows her eyes. “You’re going to catch a cold.”
“Don’t worry.” With a sigh, she turns, reluctantly walking back behind Yein and Johnny.
You take off running, trying to outpace the raindrops pelting you. By the time you make it beneath the slight sheltered roof of the locker room building, you’re damp, but not entirely soaked. It’s enough to be an annoyance, your clothes sticking slightly to your skin.
You wait outside for a good few minutes. Small groups of players from either team leave, the opponent players giving you strange looks as you lean against the wall and shiver, Baekho and his group giving you an awkward acknowledgement, and, finally, Mingyu emerges.
“Y/N?” He seems confused, but somewhat excited. As if you’re there to meet him.
“Mingyu. Answer one question for me.” You say it wearily, expressing it like the chore it is.
“What are you acting so weird for?” The excitement you glimpsed before dies.
“Were you going to use me to get in good with my brother?”
The rain is the only sound you hear for a couple solid heartbeats. “Y/N, listen…”
“He was right…” You grumble to yourself. You glare up at him. “You can do your physics labs by yourself. Delete my number.”
He stands before you for a moment more before he realizes that you’re serious. He turns and walks away, into the haze of the downpour. A minute later, Jaehyun and Kun emerge from the building.
“Oh, Y/N,” Jaehyun says, seeming surprised. “Are you waiting for Yuta?”
“Is it that obvious?”
The two of them exchange looks and smile. Kun speaks next. “He’s probably not coming out for a while. He usually gets all depressed when we lose a game, but I’ve never seen it this bad. He’s been standing in the shower for like fifteen minutes.”
You glance at the door. Jaehyun nudges you. “He’s the only one left in there. I wouldn’t tell anyone if you, say, went in right now.”
“A bonafide cupid right here,” Kun says, swinging the bag he has slung over his shoulder around so he can dig through it. He produces something, offering it to you. “Here.”
“What is…” You trail off as you take it from him, your face warming as you realize exactly what it is. “Kun, what is this?!”
“I don’t want any miniature versions of him running around. I’m always prepared.” You stare at Kun incredulously a beat longer before you shove the condom in your damp pocket.
“Good luck!” Jaehyun calls back to you as they begin to walk off, leaving you standing under the overhang. Taking a deep breath, you push open the door and walk inside.
Unsurprisingly, the place has a somewhat sweaty smell to it. The rows of lockers are labeled with names and a little image depicting the sport the owner plays, as all of the school’s teams use the same locker room, and the occasional miscellaneous socks, gloves, and other things are scattered about. A row of sinks is against one wall and past the sinks is an entrance into the shower area. You make your way there.
As you get closer, the distinct sound of one shower running gets louder. The only curtain that’s closed is a middle stall, all of the others open and empty. Parallel to the shower stalls is a long wooden bench.
“Yuta?” You call out. He doesn’t respond, so you try again. “Yuta?”
“Go away.” This time, the response is sharp and harsh. He certainly is in a mood.
“Yuta, it’s me.”
“Y/N?” His voice is significantly less negative now. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk to you.”
You can barely hear him sigh over the sound of the shower running. “You couldn’t wait until after I was done?”
“No.” When you say that, the water shuts off. A hand sneaks out to grab the towel hanging from a hook affixed to the partition between the stalls. You don’t see anything revealing, but you look away anyways. The scraping of the rings being drawn back tells you he has emerged from the stall.
“You can look at me, you know.”
“I didn’t want to be rude.” You look back, greeted with the sight of his gloriously wet hair and bare torso. He emerged quickly enough that he didn’t have time to dry much of the water dripping off of him. The only part of his body that’s covered is his waist and thighs, though the towel still reveals a tantalizing v-line. You forcibly swallow your thirst.
“Blatantly checking me out again? I get it, but would it kill you to be less obvious?” The comment throws you back to a simpler time, when you were just irritated with him for his cockiness and blasting music through the floor.
“Speak for yourself.” You cross your arms. It was obvious enough that he was enjoying the sight of you in a wet t-shirt and shorts.
“Why didn’t you wear something warmer?” He says, frowning. He steps closer, leaving little space between you.
“I didn’t think it would cool down this much.” You look away, not able to face his bare chest quite yet. The room still has a certain steam about it from the hot shower he was taking that makes it a little harder to breathe. Then again, maybe that’s just him being mostly naked in front of you. He reaches out, touching the hem of your shirt.
“You’re soaked,” he says, rubbing your shirt between his thumb and index finger.
“You’re just making me wetter.” Your face burns something fierce as you say it, contrasting the chill that had settled over your skin from standing outside. “You would think you’d dry yourself off more before getting out of the shower.”
“I was just eager to see you, I guess.” You finally have the courage to meet his eyes again.
“I missed you this morning.” You almost pout while saying it, feeling small under his gaze. It’s not an uncomfortable smallness, but one that makes you feel closer to him.
“I figured you didn’t want to see me.” He reaches out, brushing his fingers softly over the side of your face. His touch is blissfully warm. “Or, I think that you did want to see me, but you would only be angrier if I showed up.”
The thought almost makes you laugh. It would be one of the few times he’s been wrong about your feelings. But, if he always knows so much… “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I talked to Mingyu a few minutes ago and you were right. I should have trusted you.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t let you handle it on your own.” He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead. “You’re strong enough to deal with assholes like him. You don’t need me.”
“I might not need you, but I do want to keep you around.” The small confession has your bottom lip quivering. “Did I mess up your game today?”
“It was mostly the rain.” He sounds so nonchalant, but you can tell he’s still bothered. “Not you. But, if you do feel bad about it, Miss Physical Therapy, there is something you can do for me.”
His eyes have shifted away from their darkness into a different sort of moodiness. You step closer. “What is it?”
He moves back, taking a heavy seat on the bench. “I’m quite tense. Give me a massage.” His eyes bore into yours. “If you so choose.”
You step behind him. The thrill of what you feel like he’s implying thrums in your veins. The muscles of his shoulders and back are hard under your fingers, showing years of training and toning. You’re almost surprised at how well built his upper body is for a soccer player. His skin is beyond perfect too, and the little droplets of water from his steamy shower that settle on his skin glisten temptingly in the low light of the locker room.
“Sorry my hands are cold,” you practically whisper.
“It’s fine. Feels nice.” He wasn’t lying when he said he was tense - you can feel the knots leaving his muscles as you press down on them, dissolving into smooth flesh that’s soft to the touch. As you work along his back, one particularly tough knot has your thumbs pressing harder into him, drawing a low groan and a curse from his throat. “Fuck.”
The sound turns you on more than you’d like to admit. As you finish his back, you become even more hyper aware of the little noises he’s letting out, the space between you becoming noticeably warmer. Slowly, reluctantly, your hands leave his skin and you circle back towards his front, not quite wanting to look him in the eye. “Is that better?”
“Much.” The air feels heavy. “But you’re not done, yet.” Ordinarily, he’d be smirking so hard you’d be able to hear it in his voice, but there’s only a low command to his tone now. He reaches out, guiding your dominant hand forward so that it’s resting on the front of his shoulder. There’s no hiding from his eyes now. You decide then - if you’re going to do this, you might as well go all out. Sliding onto his lap, your knees pressing into the wooden bench on either side of him, makes you feel both powerful and small at the same time. His face is only a breath away from your own. You swear you can see his eyes flicker to your lips. Trying to play innocent, despite the fact that you can basically feel his dick hardening under his thin towel, you shift slightly, putting your focus on his shoulder and pectoral muscles. Every so often, you readjust yourself, purposefully bouncing slightly on his lap, almost grinding down on him. He doesn’t crack, remaining still and keeping his expression flat. The only signs he gives of being aroused are the slight shiver to his breath and the prominent bulge you’re now certain you can feel. That, and the hands he has on your body, one on your hip and one on your thigh, fixing you in place.
The process is slow, arduous, but you eventually finish with his pectoral and shoulder muscles. You pull your hands away, placing them in your lap and then sitting back, unmoving on his lap, reveling in the way you’ve very clearly made him feel. “Is that all?”
His eyes flicker down to your lips again before boring into your own. “You missed one spot.” Wordlessly, he reaches up, tapping his own lips.
You could walk away right now. His hands aren’t so tight on your body that you couldn’t just get up and leave, go back to your apartment and forget this ever happened. But why would you want to? You’ve been dreaming of his lips for weeks. Finally, you’re about to get a taste. Still, there’s an edge of apprehension digging slightly in your gut.
You’ve sat in silence for long enough that he’s opening his mouth, an apology about to leave his lips, when you swoop forward, pressing your lips to his.
Where he had given you the choice to initiate, he’s the one who really leads. He almost instantly deepens the kiss, dragging you even farther up his lap, pressing you hard against his barely-shielded dick. You feel his fingertips against your skin, under the hem of your top.
“Do you want this?”
“Yes, but-” Where his hands had stilled under your shirt they begin to move again. “Yuta, wait.” He freezes once more, looking up at you. If you didn’t know better, you could swear you see a little bit of fear in his eyes. A shaky breath leaves your lips. “I won’t fuck you unless you tell me you actually have feelings for me. Did you mean what you said back then? After the games?”
“Is that a requirement for all the guys you sleep with or am I special?” You can feel his cock throbbing under you and your own insides ache in response. Of course, he’s delaying what both of you want by being coy. The frustration building up in your gut and in your heart makes you feel like you’re going insane.
“Yuta…” You mean it to sound admonishing, but your tone is more akin to a whine as you lightly drag your nails down his chest. His breath stutters slightly in his lungs at the motion, but in that moment, a sort of gentleness you’ve rarely seen takes over his facade.
“You’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met,” he breathes out, eyes locked with yours, “how could I not have feelings for you?”
You kiss him, sweetly, desperately. His hands begin to move once more, his fingertips digging ever so slightly into your skin. When his hands make it to the edge of your shirt, giving you a suggestion, you cover them with your own, guiding him to take it off. As soon as the garment is out of the way, his lips are on your neck, your collar, the soft skin of your chest. He can feel the hum of your voice through your breast as you speak. “I really like you, Yuta. More than I’ve ever liked anyone else.”
His fingers nimbly unclasp your bra and it falls to the ground somewhere. As his touch ghosts over your breasts, you arch into his hand, drawing a warm chuckle from him. “That’s good,” he says, thumbing slow circles over your nipples, “because I feel the same way about you.”
You pull him back to your mouth, pulling him as close as you possibly can, breathing him like he’s air, tasting him like he’s food. His tongue is slick against your bottom lip, against your own tongue. Almost unconsciously, you rock your hips against his bulge as you move. Impatiently, he tugs at your shorts, pulling you out of the kiss.
“These have to come off.”
“It would kill you to go slow for once,” you laugh, getting off of his lap on shaky legs.
“I go slow for you all the time,” he responds, shifting the towel at his waist, which you realize is barely holding onto him from all the grinding you were doing on his lap, “I’ve been going slow for months now. Isn’t it time to speed things up?”
You roll your eyes, but shimmy out of your shorts, leaving you in your panties and him in his towel. From this angle, he can truly appreciate you. Every curve, every beauty mark, every fold and crease on your body. He leans back, his hands bracing him against the bench. Then, he shifts forward abruptly, taking the opportunity to snap the elastic of your underwear against your skin.
“Yuta!” The cry is half an admonition, half a laugh. You move to push his shoulder gently and he catches you by the hand, pulling you on top of him and kissing you once again. Before you realize it, he has a sneaky hand slipping into your panties, touching you where you’re most sensitive, making you jolt against his hand.
“Is this okay?” He murmurs the words against your lips and you nod, trying to focus on kissing him through the pleasure of his fingers. It’s been far too long since anyone has touched you like this and you’re not used to it.
“Mm,” you moan back, “more than okay.”
He had said he wanted to go faster, but it seems like he’s just going so slow, making you fall apart on his hand, first with just a thumb on your clit, then two fingers pushed more deeply inside of you than you could ever reach yourself. At some point, you’re no longer kissing him and your cheek is pressed to his instead. You nip at his ear, which you now realize is pierced, and the damp spikeyness of his hair rests against your temple.
His free hand rests over your breast, rhythmically squeezing it as you ride his fingers. Oddly enough, you feel like he predicts your climax before even you do, working you carefully through the release of pleasure as you shudder against him and clench around his fingers. Before you can fully regain your senses, he’s kissing you again and removing his hand, wiping his sticky digits against the towel slipping from his waist. You figure you’ll finish the job, reaching down to untwist the cloth so that it falls open against the bench.
You continue kissing him as you take his dick in your hand, your thumb sliding over the precum beading at his tip. It’s his turn to shiver, his cock twitching in your hand. Giving it slow, purposeful jerks, you watch him become perfectly uncomposed under you and you grin, leaning closer to press a kiss to the juncture between his neck and shoulder. He’s stiff, but remarkably soft to the touch, veiny and thick enough that your mouth waters. A couple minutes pass before he’s encasing your hand in his own, slowing your movement.
“I don’t want to come in your hand.” You stop, looking at him with faux-innocent eyes. He blinks desperately at you. “Please.”
“Can I suck you off later?” The words leave your mouth unexpectedly. You hadn’t even really been thinking about the later, but you figure you’re safe to assume that there will be one.
“Of course, pretty girl.” He strokes your hair and you can just think about him holding it back in the future as he-
Trying to distract yourself from the later and focus on the now, you slide off of his lap once again. He almost seems confused, made lonelier by the tiniest distance you put between the two of you. It’s almost a funny image, him half pouting at you while his dick is out, standing up against his abdomen and completely exposed. You let out the smallest exhale of a laugh. “You showed me yours, so I figured I would show you mine.” Your panties fall to the ground, where you kick them in the general direction of the rest of your clothes. The sight of your shorts reminds you of another important thing. “Oh! Also!”
You scramble over to them, reaching into the pocket and producing the little foil packet. Yuta stares at you. “You’re… prepared? I didn’t even think this far ahead and half the time my brain is controlled by my-”
“Kun gave it to me before I came in here,” you say, waltzing back over to him. He takes the packet from your hand, tearing it open. You… give him a hand as he rolls it on. “He’s awfully ready for a great many situations, isn’t he?”
“I think he was expecting this to happen a lot earlier than it actually did, honestly,” Yuta responds, pulling you back on top of him for the third time. Once again, your knees rest on the hard wood bench. “Can we not talk about my roommate, please?”
“I can agree to that.” You smile, kissing him. “Can we talk about how much I like you instead?”
“We can always talk about that,” he says, one hand on his dick, one on your hip, “are you ready?”
The mood dips, making your body shiver in anticipation again. “Yes.”
The way he positions his cock and begins to push into you makes both of you let out noises of relief, a groan from him and a sigh from you. You sink down onto him further until he’s fully sheathed inside of you, hard and pulsing and ungodly warm. He gives an experimental buck of his hips, pulling a moan from your lips and shaping his into a cocky smirk. “Already feel that good?”
“Shut up,” the complaint dies in your throat as you lift yourself up on your knees and sink back down again, bouncing on his lap slightly. You focus on the feeling of him inside of you, the sensation of him hitting your G-spot, the touch of his fingers on your clit again. His breath mingles with yours whenever he takes a break from kissing you. Your hands wander the smooth planes of his chest, your thumb briefly ghosting over his nipple, your palms getting sweatier as you hold onto him. It’s not long before you let your head fall back, your thighs tense as you hold onto his shoulders and move up and down on top of his cock.
His lips are hot as he mouths your neck. You’re not usually the type for marking, but, honestly, the thought of wearing his hickey on your skin sounds beyond appealing. He introduces the slightest bit of teeth, grazing them over your pulse as you ride him. The trail of tiny nips goes down past your collarbones to your breast. Your heart beats loudly in your ears and the desperation of chasing your orgasm makes the passage of time feel fuzzy, but in the sweet, bubbly way a soda does rather than the heavy, blurry way a cold would.
“Yuta,” you whine, the knocking of your legs against the bench growing painful, “can you…”
“I got you, baby.” With a grunt, he stands, lifting you by the thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him close. A breath later, your back is pressed to the wall and he’s pushing into you once again. The new angle is a change, and it’s a good change. Every one of his thrusts hits exactly right, pushing you further and further until-
“Yuta, you’re gonna make me...” you pant against his mouth, breathing the same air as him. At some point, after he had picked you up, you had reconnected your lips, and he swallows the little noises you let out hungrily. You clench and unclench your fists behind his back, as your arms are slung over his shoulders.
“Mm, good. That’s my girl.”
All you can think as he pounds into you is Yuta, Yuta, Yuta. You come undone with a final swipe of his thumb and a choked cry of his name. Once your own orgasm has stopped burning quite so bright, lowering to a comfortable simmer in your gut, his hips slow with each thrust until he pushes into you and stays there. You can feel him throb inside of you even through the condom.
Your skin feels like it’s glowing in the aftermath of his love, warm like coals after a fire has just ceased to burn. Warm with the promise of more flames in the future. You lean your face in the junction of his shoulder and neck, breathing love onto his skin. His deep, uneven breaths slow over time as he presses gentle kisses to the exposed flesh of your shoulder. The silence between you is only interrupted by the ambient sound of water flowing through pipes hidden in the concrete walls of the shower part of the locker room. That’s enough of a reminder for you to groan, clutching onto him tighter. “I can’t believe we just confessed and fucked in your sweaty locker room.”
“From my perspective, it’s more ‘wow, I can’t believe we finally confessed and fucked, even if it was in my sweaty locker room.’” That, at the very least, makes you smile. Slowly, he begins to pull out, separating from you with a sticky, wet sound. He backs up, turning so that he can place you gently on the towel still lying on the bench. He disposes of the used rubber quickly, throwing it in a trash can at one end of the room.
Now that he’s no longer touching you, it feels so much colder. “I feel bad for whoever has to clean this place. I hope they don’t find that.”
He shrugs. “I’m sure they’ve seen worse.” He makes his way back to you, naked body still on full, glorious display for your eyes only. “Wanna shower while we’re here?”
You groan. “Yuta, I’m tired. No funny business.”
“Who said anything about any ‘funny business?’ I just suggested we clean off the sweat from all that physical exertion.” He’s smirking, not even pretending to be innocent.
“You’re insatiable.” Still you get up, joining him in the shower stall that he holds open for you. If any follow up activity happens while you’re in there, the only way anyone on the outside would be able to tell would be from the quiet sounds that are mostly drowned out by the noise of the shower.
As you finally redress, accepting the hoodie that Yuta had in his locker so that you don’t have to put your wet shirt back on, he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you, like he’s afraid you’ll go away. The environment between you feels different, but the same. After you’re both fully dressed and start walking out the door, you reach out to take his hand. He accepts the action, interlocking his fingers with yours. Both of you stop under the overhang of the building. By now, the sun has set and a few street lights shine along the walkways of the campus through the haze of rain. “Yuta, are you my boyfriend?”
He blinks a couple times. “Wasn’t that implied?”
You turn away, suddenly shy. “I mean… I just… wanted to clarify…”
“You’re too good for me.” He laughs, then kisses your cheek. Both of you stare out of the rain, as if it’s going to suddenly stop just because you’re politely waiting for it. “I meant it. Every time.”
“Hm?”
“Every time I said I liked you, or that you’re amazing. I was just afraid of- I don’t know. That I’m not honest enough or nice enough, or even good enough at soccer. I just-” He seems so tired as he says it, so brutally truthful, so terribly self-doubting.
You squeeze his hand. “Yuta, it’s okay. Honestly, all this time, I thought you’re too good for me. You’re so much more than the things you say you are. You’re a star.”
“I’m not. I can be an asshole, and jealous, and not serious even when I should be-”
“Yuta, if you like me despite all of my ridiculous bad qualities, I’m pretty sure I can deal with a little jealousy. You’ve shown me who you are and I still like you. You’re loyal and funny and romantic and so many other things. I like you.”
He sighs sweetly, like he was holding in a breath for so long and is finally letting it out. He’s holding your hand so tightly, it feels like he might never let go. Right now, you think you might be okay with that. “Sorry. I’ll never get tired of hearing that.”
You peer into others’ eyes for a long time, content to just look. Then, the cold finally gets to your legs and you shiver, scooching slightly closer to him. You look out. The rain isn’t getting any better. “Do you want to run? To make up for us not going together this morning?”
He doesn’t even respond. He just glances at you, winks, and tugs at your hand, starting to go. The rain pelts you as you go, utterly soaking you, getting in your shoes, darkening your borrowed hoodie. His hair sticks to his forehead, making him look a bit like a wet kitten. Maybe a lion, more accurately. Still, in the passing lights and the sheen of the rain, he glows.
“Yuta?” You say between shallow breaths.
“Yeah?” He keeps going, keeps tugging you along. You have to work to keep up with him, pumping your legs hard.
“Do you want to go professional?”
He looks back at you quickly, but then turns forward. “I would.”
“I really think you could do it!”
Then he’s laughing, truly, mirthfully. “That’s the second best thing you’ve said to me today!”
At that, you’re laughing too, though it slows your pace, though it makes your lungs burn, though it helps rain water run into your mouth. When you make it to your complex, soaked through, looking like you just took a swim in your clothes, you don’t want to let go. Reluctantly, both of you part ways to change clothes in your respective apartments with the promise to meet soon and start Yuta’s effort to culture you with anime.
Sowon and Yein tease you relentlessly, both when you enter your apartment leaving puddles on the ground and when you leave again ten minutes later completely dry. They tease you for the next week whenever they catch you leaving if they know you don’t have classes. The next Friday, you end up staying up far too late watching one of Yuta’s shows, which you admit are at the very least fun, and you fall asleep in his bed. You’re sure you’ll never hear the end of it from your roommates, even if Yein has been staying in the volleyball boys’ apartment every other day for the last month.
In the morning, a mere three hours after you and Yuta went to sleep, you wake up in his arms to a strange blaring of J-rock. He reaches over you to slap his phone and shut it off. You stay awake just long enough to comment on how strange it is hearing the music next to you and not through the floor.
When you wake up around noon to Yuta staring at you, his bangs half covering his eyes, you flip over, checking the time so that he can’t see the absolutely embarrassed look on your face. “You’re so weird.”
“Why are you being all shy? I’ve seen you naked. There’s nothing more to see.”
“There’s plenty more of me to see, thank you very much, Nakamoto Yuta.”
“I know there is, darling.” His arm is still slung over your torso like it was when the alarm went off and he tries to wrestle you back around to face him. You squirm in his hold.
“Darling? You’re so weird. Why are you so weird?”
“Weird? I thought I was romantic and funny and-”
“And weird!” You wiggle more until he flips you onto your back, straddles you, and pins your hands to the bed. It’s quite an incredible sight, him pinning you down with his raven hair a complete mess and no shirt, where you can faintly see marks that you may or may not have left on his chest earlier in the week. “No fair. Home ground advantage.”
He leans in, looking ever so charming despite his disheveled appearance. “You know what makes for great morning exercise?”
“You’re weird and a horndog and-”
“Running! Let’s go.” He suddenly rises up, taking one of your hands with him and pulling you into a sitting position.
“Yuta, it’s noon! There are going to be people out everywhere.” He tugs on your hand and you move so that you’re sitting on the edge of the bed. “And it’s Saturday, so there’s going to be even more people…”
“You don’t need to worry about people judging you. If anyone gives you any funny looks, I’ll-”
“You’ll what? Punt a soccer ball at their heads?” You’re standing now, looking at him uncertainly.
He shrugs. “Sure. But, seriously. I promise that you have nothing to be self conscious about. You also have me. That part most importantly.” You would smack him if the smile he gives you doesn’t have you reluctantly agreeing.
He’s right, of course. The run is completely fine. At least, you’re distracted enough by your boyfriend for it to be fine. When you return, you split off to take showers in your apartments. After you emerge from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around your body, you find him waiting in your room. You register him saying something about the tables turning and “great afternoon exercise” before he practically pounces on you.
Afterwards, through your sex-high haze, you hear a loud knocking on your front door. Groaning, you move only so much as to press your face into Yuta’s shoulder. “Don’t wanna get up…”
“Did I make you feel that good?” His voice is a warm rumble, teasing, though full of the same tiredness that yours has. You’re about to jab him lightly in the side when his hand shifts down, two of his fingers running through your folds. Shivering at the suggestion, you wiggle closer to him, hiding your face even more.
“Let me rest, you sex-fiend.” Before he can reply, there’s a few more insistent knocks at your door. “Ugh…”
“Were you expecting someone?” You shake your head against him. He reaches over and grabs your phone. “I heard this going off earlier while we were busy.” You make no move to take it from him, so he turns it on, his eyes scanning the recent chain of texts you’d just received. “It’s your brother.”
You immediately bolt straight up. “What?” Your mind ticks back to the previous day before you’re scrambling out of bed. “Shit, shit, shit, I forgot he was coming today!” As quickly as you can, you try to throw on the various items of clothing that had gotten scattered around the room in your - Yuta’s, more accurately - haste to move them off of the bed, where you had laid them out for after your shower.
Yuta stretches lazily. “Glad I could remind you.”
“Asshole, get clothes on! He’ll kill you if he figures out what we did!”
“Ah, to be killed by L/N B/N. You say ‘what we did’ like it’s a bad thing.”
“He’s my older brother, for God’s sake!” You throw a shirt at him, smacking him in the face. “He will murder you! If he doesn’t murder me for forgetting our plans first…”
“And your plans are?” He slips his arms through the sleeves of his shirt, slipping it on.
“I’m taking him to see your game. Maybe meet the team. Who knows? You won’t be able to see it if you don’t move your ass.” You finish putting your jeans on.
“I’ve never escaped through a window before, but it sounds fun.” He’s still smirking, clearly amused. You’re certain he would actually do that if you let him.
“On second thought, just stay here. I won’t let him into my room.” Your phone lights up with your brother’s face and number and starts to buzz. You pick it up. “Sorry, I’m coming! I was napping.” You hang up. “Please, Yuta?”
He steps into his own jeans. “That’s what I was planning on. Don’t worry, I’m not trying to incapacitate myself before the game.”
With that reassurance, you close the door to your room and head for the apartment door. Your brother, clad in a hat, hoodie, and jeans, weirdly normal for him, is standing in front of your door, his phone in his hand. He narrows his eyes. “Hi, Y/N. For a second there, I really thought you forgot about our plans. Who takes a nap on a Saturday afternoon?”
You step aside, letting him in. “I was just tired today for some reason. Sorry.”
“You’re lucky you’re my favorite.” He walks in, sliding off his shoes next to yours. “Are your roommates home? It’s been a while since I’ve seen them.”
“No, but they’ll be at the game later. You won’t miss them.” You stand there, swaying somewhat awkwardly. You’re sure that he’s noticed that you’re acting strangely. “Who let you into the lower doors?”
Your brother steps inside casually. “Your neighbor Jaehyun. Nice kid.”
“Y-Yeah. He’s one of our midfielders.”
“I guess I’ll get to see him in action soon, then. Where near here is good for something quick? We only have an hour and a half until the game.”
You’re thankful for a change in subject. “Depends what you want to eat! Think about it while I run to the bathroom?”
As you head there, you glance at your closed door. You feel kind of bad for leaving him in there, but it’s for his own protection. When you get back to the door, your brother is in the same place, staring at the shoes around the entry. He points at a pair of men’s shoes, which you realize with dawning horror are Yuta’s.
“Y/N? Whose shoes are these?”
“Oh! Those are, um, Johnny’s. Yein’s boyfriend.”
He deadpans. “Johnny. Your neighbor. The one who lives right across from you. Who is dating your roommate who isn’t here right now.” When you don’t respond, he sighs. “Y/N, it would be a lot easier to lie to me if you didn’t tell me so much in the first place. Who’s in your room? I know you hate closing your door if you’re not sleeping.”
Reluctantly, you walk to your room, cursing observant soccer players. Yuta looks mildly surprised to see you, and you walk over to where he’s sitting on your bed, grabbing him by the hand and tugging him over to your brother. If he’s afraid of your brother, he doesn’t show it.
“Yuta, was it?” He’s still expressionless. “I’ll have you know that there’s a few rules.” Before Yuta can even ask about the rules, he’s launching into a detailed explanation about consequences, saying something about maiming and making it look like an accident.
“B/N, you’re a professional now. You should really try not to say such scary stuff. Also,” you say, frowning, “I can handle myself. You know that by now.”
Yuta breaks his silence. “She really can. She’s strong enough to deal with anything.”
“You really believe that?” Your brother’s gaze is unyielding.
“I do.”
“Well, then.” He suddenly lightens up, smiling at the two of you. “Want to join us for dinner? I’m thinking noodles.”
“I actually have to get to warm-ups soon…” Yuta says regretfully.
“That’s a good boy. See, Y/N, I trust your judgement. We best be off, then.” Abruptly, your brother turns, putting his shoes back on. You scramble to join him, grabbing your things and putting your own shoes on.
“I’ll see you later?” You say to Yuta, who’s simply staring, somewhat shell shocked that he survived the encounter.
He blinks, then gives you a sort of smirk. “How about a kiss for-”
“Don’t push it.” Your brother cuts him off, standing in the doorway. He starts down the stairs. When he’s not looking, you lean over, pressing your lips to Yuta’s cheek. Before you can turn around, he sneaks one of his own onto your lips. You run after your brother.
He thoroughly grills you about Yuta during dinner, but you don’t mind. You keep out the parts about sex and the specifics of the relationship coming to fruition and he seems satisfied. You barely make it to the game in time because of your brother’s interrogation, but you still get there early enough to see some of the drills. In work mode, he crosses his arms, making approving comments about Yuta’s footwork. Your boyfriend is in a similar mood, already focused in.
Then, the game starts. The other team starts with the ball, but it makes no difference. The Lions take it back, sending it back and forth across the field, gaining and losing it, until Yuta, as usual, scores, redeeming himself from the previous week. Your brother says something under his breath about potential and skill. Through the game, the Lions make great plays and you find yourself cheering for all of them, even Mingyu. The rival team stands no chance - not for lack of skill, but simply because your team is determined. By the end of the game, the score is a solid 3:0.
You’re one of the first onto the field after the teams break away from shaking hands. You meet Yuta in the middle, jumping on him in a hug when you reach him. You can’t stop the outpouring of praise, telling him how well he played, how brilliant he was. He just laughs, telling you he did his best. It’s the most positive thing you’ve heard from him after a game.
When you let go of him, willing to let the rest of his friends surround him now, you step away in search of your brother. To your surprise, he’s chatting up the Lions’ coach, who seems somewhat flustered by the Ravens’ striker speaking to him. Before you can get close, the coach blows the whistle he has around his neck, getting the attention of everyone around him, but particularly the team.
“Boys! Gather round, we have someone here with something to say to you.”
It doesn’t take long for them to recognize who your brother is.
It’s funny seeing the team rush to your brother, some pretending to be cool, some openly fawning over him. But, there’s one person who isn’t looking at him. From across the mob forming around your brother, you make eye contact with Yuta. And, in the midst of the stars shining in the form of the Raven, the Lion’s light falls on you.
#yuta smut#yuta fluff#nct smut#nct fluff#neowritingsnet#nct angst#yuta angst#nct one shot#yuta one shot#nct fanfic#nct fanfiction#yuta imagine#nct imagine#yuta fanfiction#yuta fanfic#sports collab#i hope everyone enjoys this :)#apologies for lateness#wonjaekook
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Where The Wild Roses Grow - An August Walker Story - 3
You can find the previous parts on my masterlist
Pairing: August Walker x OFC (Fern)
Summary: Don't screw the crew? This doesn't work for August Walker
Warnings: Smut, Sex, 18+, NSFW, unprotected sex, rough sex, slapping, kinda soft August
Unbeta'ed! English is not my mother tongue, so please be lenient with me
Disclaimer: I don't own August Walker (but he owns me...)
Pics for the header taken from Pinterest.
Taglist: (let me know if you want to be added or removed)
@lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @hell1129-blog @mis-lil-red @agniavateira @kebabgirl67 @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @summersong69 @taebfada @xxxkatxo @madbaddic7ed @artandotherdelights
~~~~
Chapter 3
Fern
So, today's the day. I'm going on a date. The first in I-don't-know-how-long. Two years, three years, I don't remember. After my long time relationship with Max went down the drain I didn't want to date and here in London there was just no opportunity. To be honest I'm quite nervous. I mean, I don't know much about Lucas and I haven't interacted with a lot of people since I'm in London. Actually just with my neighbor Sloane and her wife Jackie, who are very nice and we have a little chat from time to time and with Peter and August and our clients of course. But that's it. That's pathetic you say? Yeah, maybe you're right but that's just the way it is and it's okay. Basically I like my life the way it is, I love my work, I enjoy my affair with August but deep down inside I crave intimacy, tenderness and a life outside the office. So I'm really looking forward to this date and to getting to know Lucas a little better.
I'm sitting in my car right now. I'm ten minutes early so I have enough time to check my make-up -I think I look alright- and to straighten my clothes. I get out of my car and check my reflection in the metallic paint of my Classic Mini Cooper. I'm wearing a light blue summer skirt, a plain white sleeveless shirt and white loafers. I considered wearing the blue dotted dress but I can't wear it without thinking of August so it wasn't really an option.
I lurk around the corner and there he is. Lucas is waiting for me at the entrance of the museum, checking his watch repeatedly. He looks good with his blond hair and the blue eyes, not extraordinarily handsome like August but attractive. A John Doe but in a good way. Okay, guess it's time to go. Wish me luck!
There was really no reason to be nervous, Lucas is really nice and charming, the perfect gentleman. He knows a lot about art and I love how he shares his knowledge with me but never mansplains. He's not a bit arrogant or bossy, unlike many other men. August for example. Speaking of which, I think I spend too much time with him. When Lucas and I were walking around the museum I thought I saw August from the corner of my eye. Twice! I must be hallucinating or something.
Right now I'm standing at the souvenir shop waiting outside for Lucas who wants to buy a present for his son Milo who lives in Liverpool with his mum, Lucas' ex-wife. We're done with the exhibition and he asked me if I want to have a coffee with him in a cafe nearby. I said yes. I really enjoy his company and it feels so good to finally do something that has nothing to do with my work.
A loud noise suddenly startles me. It sounds like someone has dropped a glass that's smashed to pieces. I spin around quickly to localize the noise source and that's when I see him. It's really him. August Walker in the flesh, standing behind a pillar, watching me.
I stare at him, surprised, or to put it more precisely, stunned. What the hell is he doing here?
He gives me a nonchalant smile and strolls in my direction as if it was the most natural thing to meet me here.
"Fern. What a lovely surprise."
Is he kidding me? Lovely? He never uses words like this, they are not part of August Walker's vocabulary.
"August. What are you doing here?" I don't feel the need to exchange polite phrases.
"Enjoying the exhibition."
"Oh really?" I cross my arms in front of my chest.
"Yes. Why would you doubt it?" He smiles innocently and it makes me mad.
"Because you're not interested in art."
"Well, I am now."
"I took both tickets because you said you didn't want to go." I point out.
"I changed my mind and bought a ticket."
I take a deep breath and roll my eyes. I can't even explain why I'm so annoyed by the fact that he's here.
"So? Where's your date?" he asks en passant.
Now it dawns on me.
"Is that the reason you're here? Are you spying on me?"
August's face hardens and he looks at me with a frown. "I'm not spying. I'm just keeping an eye on you."
"I don't need a babysitter, August."
"You don't know anything about the guy, Fern. He could be dangerous."
He comes one step closer and is standing right in front of me now, our bodies almost touching.
"He's not dangerous. He's a teacher at a primary school."
"That's what he says." He almost whispers. It's ridiculous.
"Why would he lie to me?"
"Because maybe he wants to cover up his true identity."
I laugh out loud. "Like what? Like an undercover agent or something. You think he's after you?"
August gives me a death stare, his lips pressed together to a thin line. "Exactly. And he wouldn't be the first." His voice is only a low growl. "I mean, come on, Fern. He sees you for what -5 minutes maybe?- and asks you out? Can he really be that smitten by you?"
I stare at him, his words cut right into my heart, and I try to hide it by being even more sarcastic than usual.
"Oh, you mean you find it more likely that he's a spy, sent by the government to get to you, than the simple thought that he's attracted to me and therefore asked me out? Wow, I mean, that's flattering, August. So basically you're saying I'm so uninteresting that it's not a realistic scenario that a man meets me and wants to date me?"
"That's not what I meant, Fern. All I'm saying is…"
"Hi." I freeze when I hear Lucas' voice. I step back to bring a little space between me and August and turn around.
"Lucas. Did you find something for Milo?"
"Yes. I did." He gives August a funny look and things are getting pretty awkward. I clear my throat.
"Um, Lucas. This is my boss. August Walker. We just bumped into each other."
"Lucas Bellingham. Nice to meet you." Lucas gives August a nod and August gives him a forced smile in return.
"Yeah. Nice to meet you."
I can't believe he used to be an agent, since he's such a bad actor.
"Well, I'll leave you to it. Fern, see you on Monday."
"Sure."
He leans in, grabs me by my elbows and kisses me goodbye french style. Two times. Right. Left. Mua. Mua. What the fuck? After the second innocent peck on my cheek I feel his breath hot against my ear. "You look hot in that skirt. Be a good girl and wear it on Monday."
His soft words sent shivers down my spine and at the same time I'm fuming with anger.
All he can expect from me on Monday is a cold shoulder and a lecture.
August
Okay, that monitoring operation on Saturday didn't go exactly as planned. I guess I'm a little out of practice. Of course Fern wasn't supposed to see me nor was her date. Lucas Bellingham. A boring name for a boring guy. I checked his record, of course I did. How, you ask? I'm sorry but I can't tell you. If I would I'd have to kill you.
Hey, don't be so shocked, I'm just kidding. Really. Relax.
Anyway, I have ways and means to do a background check on someone and Lucas seems to be legit. On first sight that means. I told Pete to dig a little deeper, just to be sure. He has his ways and means too. I promised Fern she'd be safe with me when I hired her and I'm a man of my word. I'm not going to expose her to any kind of danger. And no matter what she says, it definitely is possible that someone is sending an undercover agent to spy on me or Peter. Could be the US authorities or the MI5 or someone from my past, there's no lack of enemies, I've pissed off a lot of people and I know one day I will regret it. You know what they say. Karma is a bitch.
Well, here she comes.
"Good Morning, Fern."
"Morning."
Okay. A look that could kill and no skirt. Tight black jeans and a turtleneck sweater. All buttoned-up. Okay, woman, I get it. You're mad at me. She goes straight to her office and I follow her and sit down on the edge of her desk. She doesn't even look at me but starts typing something into her computer.
"Are you alright?"
"Of course I am."
"Really? You don't even look at me."
She takes a deep breath before her eyes meet mine.
"Just stay out of my way today, August."
I know I should take the hint and leave her alone but I can't. I don't take orders. Not from her, not from anyone anymore. I'm the one in charge, she should know that.
"What if I don't want to?" I give her a smug smile.
"I don't care what you want. Just fuck off."
"Woman." I growl. "Who do you think you're talking to? I'm still your boss."
"Then let me do my work. Boss." She holds my gaze and I know I'm going to lose any kind of staring contest with her so I decide to change my tactics. I hop off her desk and sit down in a chair.
"I just don't get why you're in such a bad mood." I try to smile and I have a feeling that it makes me look like an idiot. Fern furrows her brows. "Oh really. You have no idea?"
"Is this about Saturday?"
"Yes, you bloody genius, of course it is. Your behaviour was beyond the pale."
"My behaviour? I was visiting an exhibition. Just like you."
"Don't give me that, August."
I stare at her. What does she want from me? I did nothing wrong goddamn.
"I was just trying to protect you, Fern. You tend to trust people too easily."
Her eyes shoot daggers at me and god, that's so sexy. Why the hell isn't she wearing that bloody skirt like I told her?
"People like you, you mean?"
Ouch. That hurts.
"I don't need you to protect me, okay? Not in a situation like this. Fuck, August. It was just a date with a harmless guy in a public place. What was he supposed to do? Kidnap me? Murder me?"
I don't know how to respond to this so I just shrug it off but the way she looks at me tells me she expects me to say something.
"I was just trying to keep my promise, Fern. You know I guaranteed your safety and I guess you have no idea how many people want to see me dead. You never know what they are up to and when someone new appears on the scene I get suspicious. This has nothing to do with you. It's just me and maybe I overshot the mark." The next words are the hardest part but I know if I want her to wear a skirt or dress ever again I have to say them. "I'm sorry."
Her face softens a little.
"Just don't do it again, August. My private life is none of your business."
I nod and I really want to know if she's going to see him again but I don't ask.
The next few days totally suck.
Tuesday: blue jeans and a cold shoulder. Shit.
Wednesday: skinny jeans and distant behaviour. Goddamn.
Thursday: A jumpsuit and a little smalltalk but not much more.
She's driving me crazy and she knows it. If she keeps on acting so stubborn she must not be surprised if I don't want her anymore. Ah fuck, who am I trying to fool. Truth is I want her more than ever. I want to fuck that distant look off her face. I want her to moan my name. I want her to obey. To give in. To acknowledge that I'm in charge.
On Friday I don't expect much, but to my big surprise and relief she shows up wearing the blue dotted dress she wore when I took her for the first time. I give her a glance when she walks past my office with swaying hips and she returns it. She even smiles at me.
Okay, I have to get rid of Peter. Asap. I go to his office and close the door behind me.
"August?"
"Peter. Go home."
"Excuse me?"
"Leave. Work from home today."
He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms with a frown.
"Why?"
"Because I say so."
He snorts and turns to his laptop again.
"Fuck off, August."
I roll my eyes and sigh.
"Please." I say through clenched teeth. "I need some time to talk to Fern."
"Talk, huh?"
"We had a little fight the other day and now it seems she's willing to forgive me." I know I sound desperate and Peter looks at me again. "Yeah. I know about your visit to the museum. And you think you can get back into her pants today."
She told him about it? This takes me by surprise. But I don't say a word and he knows me well enough to interpret it as a yes.
"You know my opinion on your little affair."
"I do and you know it's none of your business."
"Right." He hesitates and scratches his chin. "Well, do what you think you have to do. I'm going to have breakfast in the little cafe around the corner and try to get the number of the hot waiter. You have an hour." He gets up and grabs his wallet and his phone.
"Thanks, Pete."
"I'm not doing this for you, August. I'm doing this for our business and my future. If you and Fern don't talk you can't do your job properly and this could ruin everything we have built up yet. So get your shit together and return to normal. Whatever it takes."
He leaves and I can tell he's pissed but well, he's gone and that's all that matters. I go straight to Ferns office and now that I'm standing right in front of her I'm so aroused and full of anticipation I feel like I'm about to explode with lust and I'm sure I look like a predator. She looks at me and slowly stands up.
"You've been a really bad girl." I growl.
"Is that so?" She bats her lashes innocently. Oh, her audacity.
"Yes." I murmur. "You kept me waiting for four days."
"You deserved it." Heavens, she's really a challenge.
"I'm gonna show you what you deserve, woman."
Two wide strides and I'm standing right next to her. I grab her by her waist, spin her around and bend her over her desk before I lift her dress and rip her panties into shreds. I press her down with one hand between her shoulder blades and unzip my trousers with the other. My dick is so hard it hurts. I don't waste time. I enter her without any kind of preparation or the slightest hint of foreplay. I wanna punish her by being raw and ruthless but she won't let me. She is wet. So fucking wet and she takes me as well as usual. Sighing with lust when I stretch her pussy. Moaning when I start to fuck her deep and fast. I let out a moan too. "You're so wet. You've been looking forward to this." I hiss into her ear while railing her so hard that the desk moves under us. "I've been all wet since the moment I put on the dress." Her voice is dripping with desire. "I've missed your dick so much."
I keep on fucking her with long, deep movements and when I slap her ass out of the blue she cries out my name. "August." She likes it, oh yes she does. She likes it a lot. I can tell by her moans that get even louder. I've never done this before though I wanted to, but I was scared she might not like it or think I'm a perv and tell me to fuck off. I move faster and we are both gasping and panting like never before. I'm close and so is she. I can feel it.
"Again." She begs. Oh how I like the sound of it.
"What did you say, pretty?"
"Again. August. Please."
"Do you think you deserve it?"
"Yes."
"You want it?"
"Yes."
"Say it."
"Slap my ass, August. Please."
She's a whimpering mess now and I slap her again. Harder this time. She shrieks and it sounds incredibly hot. I go on and on and after the fifth slap I feel her come. Her walls clench around me and her legs shake. "Fuck...oh god. August…" Her sweet little cunt milks my cock and when I cum too I throw my head back and sigh her name softly till my orgasm is over. I press a kiss on her back and give her ass a few gentle strokes to sooth the pain. I bet it stings, her cheek is crimson red. I pull out reluctantly. I feel the strange urge to stay inside of her but I fight it. She turns around and looks at me with a smirk. She licks her lips and it's obvious how much she's enjoyed this.
And so have I.
I enjoyed it and I've missed it.
I've missed her.
#august walker#august walker smut#smut#august walker x ofc#august walker fan ficiton#henry cavill#henry cavill fan fiction
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For the wonderful @bluronyourradar who requested from the prompt list - the way I said I love you. This was a hard one to write, but I very much liked to. Thank you and I hope you enjoy 🌙💜
I listened to some classical music for inspiration (it’s not like I know anything about it, but I just love to listen to classical piano), here are some of them if you want to listen to while reading or whenever: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
32. In a way I can’t return
It is the first show Eliott has ever gone to. Of course, he had watched Lucas playing many times before, many times to him. Only to Eliott, the both of them hidden in the playing room, stealing some moments together. And if he ever thought that was too much for his long gone heart, he wasn’t ready for watching Lucas on stage. Not even close.
From the moment he entered, the spotlight following him, brightening his controlled face, two huge marble blue balls adorning it, Eliott felt his insides churn. An image to look at forever. There in the light nothing to hide, except - maybe - the meaning behind “I composed this song to the person I love the most. Please, take this as the purest form of my love for you. I may not be the best with words, but this song is everything I’ve ever felt.” And even though all the gazes go immediately to Chloé, girls fanning over her, squealing, Eliott knows the only pair of eyes that matter are on him. Burning with the sincerity of his words, making his heart beat so fast it may break free from his body and yet nothing moves. Sounds put together into words weighing on him. Everything I’ve ever felt. A song. For Eliott.
The thought of Lucas writing a song thinking of Eliott is too much. Thinking of how he could express his love, show to the world how much he feels. Except no one knows. Only them both. Glances stolen for years until it became something more, stolen kisses in the darkness of the corners until it became stolen promises. Whispers behind closed doors, the touch of skin under the covers. Never enough - it could never be. And yet Eliott has never felt this much.
Lucas moves through the stage like he belongs, the light accompanying him as he sits on the bench, the dark piano glowing. A deep breath, one last gaze and his hands are on the tiles.
Everything around Eliott disappears. It’s just them once more, in the playing room. Eliott swooning over Lucas and the melody invading his ears, taking over his mind and transporting him to different places every time. This time he goes to a forest, just him and Lucas laying on the floor, looking at the stars, the sounds of nature and the melody all the same.
It starts slow and sweet. A calm clicking of tiles, just like a light breeze through treetops. A harmonic tune, notes carefully thought of flowing right into his ears. Gentle like the touch of a lover, gentle enough to make tears form in Eliott’s eyes, but at every note the melody gains strength, transforming into a deep symphony, energetic. Unexpected, and yet in place, like it belongs.
Eliott dares to look at Lucas as the song mutates once more, a sweeter but melancholic sound. He is astonishing, sweat shining on his forehead like little diamonds, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and eyes - eyes dark, a storm taking form, waves carrying different sets of emotions, and Eliott, a sailor lost in the depths of it, boat long shrunken.
It makes him want to cry even more.
His gaze returns to Lucas’ hands, now moving methodically, swiftly clicking on the tiles and taking the pace to something a bit more stagnant, but ever so beautiful. It is sad, the lack of melody, the silence just like in the time of the evening it isn’t day nor night, not too bright but not nearly dark enough, a state in between, the only sound are the waves crashing in distance, maybe they aren’t crashing at all. And Eliott can’t suppress the feeling it gives him - finitude.
Nevertheless, the song isn’t the same anymore, Lucas’ features transforming into something different, the unknown storm of his eyes taking the form of longing. The abrupt movements of his hands, makes the tune confusing, one note seemingly after the next one but never quite getting to it. And with one last reassuring melody, the song is over.
After a few seconds of silence, the only sound audible the one of Lucas’ unsteady breath, the audience erupts into applause, every single person gets on their feet to praise the pianist. But Eliott can’t move. His limbs have never been this heavy, the weight of realization pulling him down. Lucas made a song for me. He took time to think of me, transcribe his emotions into music. For me. It is so much he feels breathless. It is so much he thinks he may never be able to return this, to show his love as deeply as Lucas has. He could never return love in such a beautiful form.
He gazes up, and there is Lucas waiting for him, a sweet smile on his face, tears at the base of his eyes. Eliott finally gets up, desperation in his eyes, but still a smile on his lips. A song. For me. Lucas gives a small nod, and quickly disappears off stage after a farewell, Eliott goes after him in a heartbeat, meeting Lucas in the room they were in right before the performance.
Lucas waits for him against the wall, hair put up in a mess purposely - it wasn’t just minutes before - daring look on his eyes. Not a hint of doubt on his posture and Eliott wants to pin him there, touch him until the end of time, cherish him until his joints complain too much.
“So?” Lucas asks in a cocky tone. And what can Eliott say? Everything and nothing comes to his mind, the weight back on him once more, posture fambling, Lucas is quick to notice, getting slowly closer.
“I love you so much, Lucas.” He can’t put into words what he wants to say, and it is so frustrating, tears spill and he lets a cry take over him.
“Yes, I love you too.” He says with such intensity, such surety, it makes Eliott lose balance.
“Lucas, listen to me.” Eliott takes his shoulders. “I could never give something like that back to you.” Lucas shakes his head in confusion, cupping Eliott’s jaw. “My hands are too rough and my mind too fuzzy. I don’t think I could ever give back love like you have given me.” Lucas only smiles, pulling Eliott closer, so close, he feels the sweet scent of his breath.
“You don’t have to, my love. You never have to prove your love to me. I know how you feel and I hope you know how I do too.” Eliott’s cry becomes even messier, sometimes the realization of how much love there can be for someone is too much, and the love he feels for this man is so much. He could never put limits to it, there is nothing in this universe that it could fit into. And he knows Lucas feels the exact same, he does.
“Yes, I do.” Is all he can say, the magnitude of the feeling still blurring all his thoughts.
“Come here.” He hears Lucas whispering and lets himself go into his arms, breathing the heat from his skin, feeding on the intoxicating smell of his hair. The simple feeling of their skin together is enough to make him even dizzier. He wonders if it will always feel this way, touching Lucas.
“I love you.”
“I know. And I love you.”
At some point, no matter how great it is, the urge to be alone - just the two of them - isn’t enough and they have to give space to the real world. Reality comes knocking in through the door - Chloé with all her family - invading the room. Compliments given, hugs exchanged and even marriage promises made. But it doesn’t dawn on Eliott as much. The knowledge of their love is enough. For now, it’s all he needs.
#my lack of knowledge on piano made it hard#and it may not make much sense#but i tried describing how i feel listening to it#and how a song could translate into their relationship in this context#very hard ngl#i hope it makes sense#and i tried not to make that part too long bc of my difficulty in describing it#i mean the piano part#also#you've probably realized by now i have an obsession with forests#and the sea clearly#elu#lucas lallemant#eliott demaury#elu fic#skam france#my writing
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watching cityscapes turn to dust
"Why don't you say my name anymore?"
"I do. Not often, but I do."
"But why?"
"Because i'm afraid that once I start saying it, I will never stop."
There's silence. And then-
"Would that be so bad?"
part I - Italy
Before
Somewhere in Italy, August 2018
“Damn.” Yann lets out a low whistle to his right.
And damn, indeed. Lucas has seen recording studios in his life; not many, admittedly, one when he visited San Francisco when he was 16, and the ones him and the guys have used in the past to record their last two albums, but he’s sure they usually don’t look like this . Like a very expensive, very unaffordable beach house.
“This is where we’re staying?”
“This is where we’re staying.”
Lucas grips his suitcase tighter, eyes roaming across the red brick walls and rustic columns before they settle on the elegant picnic table tucked in a corner. What even the fuck is Italy, really. He feels Eliott’s restlessness behind him without having to turn around, and it’s weirdly endearing, how tall, dark and handsome Eliott Demaury is so intimidated by all this.
“What the fuck is my life,” Eliott mumbles. “What the fuck is my life.”
Lucas snorts before turning to look at him. He sees Eliott’s wild eyes staring back at him, hands on the straps of the guitar on his back and duffle bag by his feet, his hair a mess from brushing his hands through it on the way here. And god, if the Italian sun doesn’t look good on him, on his golden skin and filtering through his chestnut hair, and Lucas has no clue how he’s supposed to survive this. He doesn’t.
“You good over there?” He asks him, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, yeah,” Eliott waves him off. The look of disbelief in his eyes betrays him. “I just- this is where the people with more than a fiver in their back pocket record their music?”
“You’d have to ask those people.” Eliott gives him a look and gestures around them. Lucas huffs out a laugh. “No, I don’t know. This is a first time for me too, I’m just as impressed. But they say it’s easy to get used to the good things in life, right?” He shrugs before picking back his suitcase. “Well, you coming?”
“I’m coming.”
***
When the alarm in his phone wakes him up, it’s barely light out and the sheets are cold and tangled around his bare legs. Lucas buries his face on the pillow, groaning, before rolling on his back and sitting down in bed. This part he hates, the whole having to wake up at dawn and not murder anyone on his way to his second cup of coffee thing, and he sighs once more before standing up on tired legs.
He throws on a pair of old sweatpants and a black hoodie, pulling the hood over his head. Then, with his phone on one hand and his favorite pair of drumsticks tucked in the elastic band of his sweatpants, he leaves the room in search for the kitchen.
“Morning.” A voice behind him startles him, making him almost drop the packet of instant coffee on the kitchen counter.
He turns around, a gasp hanging from his lips when he finds Eliott’s lean figure sitting on top of the kitchen table. He eyes the cup of coffee Eliott is quietly stirring between his hands, and wonders if he’s the reason why there’s not enough milk for another whole mug. As beautiful as this place is, it seriously lacks in the food department.
“Oh, hey.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” Eliott says with a frown. He fiddles with the cup between his hands, avoiding Lucas’ gaze. “The guys are already waiting on room 2. They want to start with a full rehearsal first.”
Lucas places the mug on the counter before walking over to Eliott. “Hey,” he says. “Hey, are you okay?”
Eliott shrugs.
It pinches his heart, the sight before him.
Everything is dimmed out; the washed out white walls, the grey curtains, furniture all made with wood and the morning sun not quite out yet, only a trail of cold light coming through the tall windows. Eliott sitting in the middle of everything, and Lucas is so used to seeing him light up the whole room, that the hunch of his shoulders and anxious look in his eyes overwhelm him. Eliott looks small right now, despite having a head on Lucas, almost like he blends in with the sadness in the room, and Lucas hates it.
“Having second thoughts?” Lucas asks jokingly, but he thinks the worry bleeds through his voice anyway.
Eliott’s eyes widen marginally at that.
“No! No, that’s not it. It’s not. I’m just, fuck,” Eliott lowers the mug on the table next to his hip. He gives a sigh before hiding his face between his hands. “I’m just so fucking scared, Lucas.” His voice sounds muffled, nothing but a whisper between his fingers, but Lucas hears it perfectly. The hitch between words. The tremor in his lips. “I’m so scared.”
"Eliott, what?" Lucas raises a tentative hand and rests it on Eliott’s shoulder, unsure of what to do. “What are you talking about?”
“This…” Eliott starts, rubbing his face before uncovering his face. It’s all red now, his grey eyes all glassy. “This whole thing. I’m so scared. And I feel so guilty, all the time. I’m scared I will look like I’m trying to steal Arthur’s place, and then everyone will hate me. Your fans. You. Arthur.”
And Lucas is unsure of everything, except of the fact that Eliott is breaking his heart.
“Fuck, Eliott-”
“And I like you guys so much. I went to the try-outs because I told myself I had nothing to lose, that if anything, I would get to play in front of professionals for the first time in my life. But suddenly you were saying you were keeping me and next thing I know is I’m here.” Eliott shrugs helplessly. “It’s easy to get used to the good things in life, you said, and I’m so scared to get used to this.”
“Fucking hell, Eliott. I want you to listen clearly. Look at me.” He squeezes Eliott’s shoulder, catching his attention. Eliott looks at him through teary eyes, and Lucas has to bite the inside of his cheek to avoid reaching forward and catching the salty drops with his thumb. “We like you too. You’re one of us now, I want you to understand that. I need you to understand that. After Arthur’s accident everything felt so hopeless. Arthur didn’t leave his bed in a week. I thought it would end him. That it would end us.” He takes a deep breath. “But it didn’t. I was scared, too, of the possibility of someone else taking Arthur’s place, at the beginning. But now you’re here, and nothing has ever felt this right. We won’t hate you. Arthur won’t hate you. In fact, I’ve heard he’s over the moon with you. We all are, actually. You didn’t hear this from me, but… I think he has a crush on you.” He bites back the, I know I do.
Eliott lets out a wet laugh and punches him in the shoulder. “Shut up, idiot.”
Lucas stumbles back for effect with a breathless oof before stepping closer. He gives Eliott a small grin, tentative fingers drumming against his knees and pressing down on the bone. “But I’m serious. We love you here. You’re one of us now, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
He presses once more on Eliott’s knees, the material soft and comfortable under his fingertips. He pulls back then, and Eliott shoots him a small, grateful smile.
“Lucas-”
Lucas shakes his head with a warm smile of his own. “Don’t mention it.”
Eliott tilts his head to one side with a frown on his face, and before Lucas can ask what’s wrong, there’s arms around his waist and a warm cheek pressed to the top of his head. Lucas freezes for a moment before looping his own arms around Eliott’s back. “No, Lucas, but I will.” Eliott whispers. “I will. Thank you.”
Lucas smiles a little in return, saying nothing. He nods against Eliott’s chest, because he heard him. He did. But no more words are needed.
***
“Okay guys, from the beginning now. Eliott, can you turn your amp a little higher?”
Eliott bends hesitant to adjust the volume control and strums out a G chord.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about!”
Lucas ducks his head behind the drum set, smile half-hidden by a cymbal as he watches Eliott’s cheeks turn a faint shade of pink. It’s so unfair, how Eliott feels so insecure under all that determination shining inside his eyes. Lucas wishes he would trust himself a little more.
“Okay. On 3, 2, 1-”
And the room explodes in a wave of sounds and one hundred notes playing at the same time. The low hum of the bass pairs with two guitars, Lucas carrying the rhythm with the drums. He loses himself to it, eyes closed, his hands moving automatically to the beat of the song coming from his headphones. This is his favorite part; his own personal haven. Music.
He’s already panting. There’s sweat forming at his hairline, but his heart still picks up when he realizes he’s close to his favorite part of the song. He hits the drums in a quick succession, all fast and hard and raw, grinning to himself at how fucking good it sounds, lifting his head to look at Yann, who’s already smirking down at him, because they know each other so well that even the faintest cue clues them in. And then his eyes move to Eliott-
Who looks like every single one of Lucas’ wet dreams.
Lucas wants to eat him alive. Wants him to play with his body the way his fingers play with the strings of his guitar. Lick the sweat pooled under his lower lip and bite the side of his neck, run his fingers through his messy hair, straddle his lap before getting him off that oversized black t-shirt and just fucking kiss him everywhere.
There's concentration in Eliott’s face as he plucks the strings at a beat beat that makes Lucas feel dizzy, and he’s just standing there with a guitar in his hands, one leg slightly propped up to support it. His gym shorts have ridden up at that knee, giving Lucas the opportunity to see a tattoo peeking out of it. His grip on the drum sticks tightens as Eliott wets his lips with his tongue, and then Eliott is tilting his head up. And their eyes meet.
He loses grip of one of the sticks. He watches with wide eyes how it flies off his hand and against the wall behind him. He’s opening his mouth to say sorry when an excruciating metallic sound breaks through the room.
“Fuck!” Eliott is looking down at his guitar in horror. “Fuck, I am so sorry! Christ, fuck!”
“Eliott-”
“No, fuck. It sounded so good. I fucked it up. I’m sorry.”
“Eliott, dude. It’s no big deal.” Basile moves to place a hand on Eliott’s shoulder. “If only you knew the number of times Lucas has accidentally hit me in the face with a drum stick-”
“Yes. Accidentally.” Lucas cuts in, and it makes Eliott turn his head to look at him. His eyes are so sad, and Lucas is drowning. “But Bas is right, we all fuck up all of the time.” He glances over his shoulder with a pointed look. “In fact, if you hadn’t fucked up, I would have. Look where my drum stick is.”
“See? It’s alright, dude. Embrace your mistakes, because there’ll be plenty. From Lucas, especially. I’m surprised he hasn’t hit you with one stray stick in the past two months yet.”
“Oh, shut the fuck up Yann.” Lucas rolls his eyes, before turning to Eliott with a tentative grin. “It’s because I like your face. Unlike others’.”
Eliott grins back, a little bashfully and a lot more tamer than Lucas is used to from him, but he’ll take it for now. He’ll take whatever Eliott wants to give.
He can already see it becoming a problem.
“Thanks, guys. I just- yeah. I freaked out for a second.” Eliott huffs awkwardly. "It won't happen again."
"You're fine, dude." Basile consoles him.
Yann nods in understatement too, squeezing Eliott's shoulder once before returning back to his position, so Lucas bends to grab the wayward stick, getting back into position himself.
And then the glass door opens.
“Yo, Eliott!” Arthur shouts from the doorway. “You okay?”
Eliott startles at the mention of his name. His head turns towards the door. “Yeah, fine! Sorry for the breakdown.”
Arthur shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. You’re doing amazing, dude.”
“What about me?” Basile whines.
“Eh, you’re okay I guess.”
“Rude.”
“Okay, just wanted to check in. Keep it up guys! And much courage, Eliott. You’re gonna need it with these idiots.”
Eliott laughs lightly, the faint pink back in his cheeks, before smiling gently at Arthur. “Thanks. I will keep it in mind.”
“Joke’s on you, he’s part of us now. He joined the idiot side already.”
Eliott’s eyes clear instantly at Basile’s words, less of a storm in the middle of the ocean and more of a cloud after the worst poured down, and his lips curl up at the ends softly. Sometimes Lucas blesses Basile’s timing for things like this.
Eliott’s eyes search for Lucas’ immediately, and there’s something in them that has Lucas’ blood rushing to his face. Lucas only smiles at him just as softly, nodding in acknowledgement.
Eliott nods back.
***
From: Mama
And so we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them.
From: Mama
I miss you, my son. Bring me back a bottle of wine.
Lucas smiles fondly at his phone screen as he types out a response.
To: Mama
miss you too, mama. and i will.
love you.
They’ve been here for over a week and things have been… interesting. Good interesting, though. It’s their third album, and Lucas wasn’t kidding when he said he wasn’t used to this kind of luxury either. Compared to this, the other studio where they recorded their first album looks like a cardboard box.
He can’t complain. Countless sound rooms, brand new instruments (although Lucas misses his drum set) all for them to use, a backyard as big as his apartment, and a fucking pool out of all things. Plenty of shirtless Eliott running around the backyard in the afternoon sun, all happy and wet, so Lucas really doesn’t have much room to complain.
He hates himself a little for thinking like this. He just can’t help it; ever since Eliott came into his life, he can’t picture himself kissing someone else’s lips but his. Run his hands through someone else’s hair but his. Touch anybody but him the same way he’d like to be touched. And it shouldn’t be like this, he thinks, he shouldn’t be thinking about another person when he already has someone back home. Shouldn’t be thinking about a boy. A friend.
Yet he is, and he hates himself for it. And then he hates himself more when he thinks about Chloe, and he can’t find regret in his mind. Not for liking him. A boy. Not for liking Eliott. Because when you find someone like Eliott, you love them until the day you die, Lucas is sure. Not many things make sense for Lucas, but this does. Because Eliott is the type of person you would kill and die for, if only to see them smile; the person you’d cling to, until your very last breath, because they’re alive, and intoxicating and overwhelming in the best kind of way.
So he hates himself, but he likes Eliott more. And somehow that makes up for it.
Pocketing his phone in his sweatpants, he closes the door of his room silently. He walks down the hallway with slow, quiet steps, careful not to wake up the guys sleeping in the rooms next to his, and goes downstairs. Where the grand piano is.
He had seen it on the first day they got here, tucked in a far corner in the lounge room. It stood proudly by the tall windows, in all its white glory, that Lucas couldn’t help but give it a longing glance every time he passed by. His fingers have been itching to press down on its keys since the first day, but the occasion never arouse; either the guys were fucking around for too long downstairs, watching movies and playing board games, or he was too tired to think about sneaking off in the dead of the night. Until now.
He sits on the stool with his hands over the keys. And listens. Everything is quiet in the way only a summer night can be. He lets himself smile, the darkness in the room and the quiet of the night taking him to a calm state of mind, and then his fingers are moving. The pale moon illuminates the side of the piano, glimpses of white flashing on his hands when they move close enough in the direction of the window.
He’s missed this. A fleeting thought crosses his mind, that he should invest on a piano when he gets back to Paris, until it’s blank again. He gets high off this feeling. This feeling of complete numbness, nothingless that he thinks should make him feel isolated, but it doesn’t. It only relieves him.
“Lucas?”
His fingers slam down on the keys.
“Jesus Christ!” Lucas gasps, head snapping up. His eyes widen when he finds Eliott’s head poking out behind the couch. He clutches at his chest. “Fuck, dude. I’m going to tie a bell around your neck, you can’t keep doing this. I’m going to have a heart attack at 20.”
Eliott has the decency to smile sheepishly at him. “Sorry, it wasn’t my intention.” The moonlight shines on his face and dances around inside his eyes beautifully. “It just seems to happen.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet.” Lucas huffs. He turns sideways in the stool to face Eliott. “What are you doing there?”
“Couldn’t sleep.” Eliott explains after a second. He crosses his arms on the back of the couch, tucking his chin there. A strand of hair falls on his eyes, and Lucas desperately wants to touch. “I tried watching a movie but I don’t know where I left my earphones, and honestly, I wasn’t in the mood to look for them. So I came here, and then I crashed, apparently.” He shrugs. “Until the music woke me up.”
“Shit, sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Eliott says quietly, shaking his head, earnest eyes looking at Lucas. “It was beautiful. I would rather spend sleepless nights listening to you play than wasting my time dreaming.”
Lucas’ cheeks turn pink. He nods, thanking the dark for not giving him away, because he’s sure he’s got the answers of any question Eliott could ask etched in his skin in this moment. Instead, “Are you still stressed about the whole belonging thing?”
Eliott huffs out a laugh. “Well, when you call it like that...” Lucas wiggles his eyebrows at him, and Eliott laughs again. “But no, not really. Or a little, maybe, just the normal amount of stress I think.”
Lucas nods solemnly. “The normal amount of stress is good.”
“It is.” Eliott agrees with a small smile before his face turns somber. “You’re really cool guys, did you know?” He speaks, a little more timidly this time, playing with a thread on the couch. “You especially. You’re a good person, Lucas.”
Lucas bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from weeping. His body tingles all the way down to his toes at the way his name sounds coming from Eliott’s mouth. He’s never cared about his own name; just another name, the one he got at birth, he guesses. But when Eliott says it, it feels like falling in love, like it’s the only word he wants to hear for the rest of his life. It happens with everything Eliott says or does.
“So are you.” He answers back sincerely, voice going hoarse.
Eliott looks for his eyes in the dark, and Lucas lets himself get caught. They study each other in silence; it’s comfortable, and Lucas’ heart slows down to the point where he can’t hear it in his ears anymore. They stay like that until Eliott’s mouth falls open in a silent yawn.
Lucas takes notice of the drowsiness clouding Eliott’s eyes, and he bites back a fond smile. “Are you going back to your room? I can go if you want to stay here, I was the one making noise anyway.”
“No, no.” Eliott shakes his head slowly. “Stay, please. Could you play me something? So I can fall asleep faster?”
Lucas gives him a careful look. “Are you sure it won’t wake you up further again?”
“It won’t, promise. I just wasn’t expecting it the first time.”
“Well, okay then.” Lucas concedes. “You lie back down now, okay?”
“Okay.” Eliott nods, taking his arms off the back of the couch before disappearing out of Lucas' sight. “Good night, Lucas.”
Lucas smiles to himself, turning around in the stool. His fingers find the right keys to press on, and he does, slowly, softly, the room filling with quiet notes and warm melodies.
“Good night, Eliott.”
He plays until his hands ache, and Eliott sleeps.
***
“Why didn't you guys tell me how good Lucas is with the piano?”
Yann gives Eliott an odd look, and Lucas wants to drown himself in this pool.
“Because he isn’t?” Yann frowns.
“What? Yes he is.”
Lucas submerges himself deeper into the cool water, enough that if he breathes now he thinks he could fill his lungs with enough water that he’d get out of this conversation. He gives Eliott a urgent look, but Eliott is too busy staring at his best friend with a challenging expression to notice him.
“I mean, he’s not bad at it? Lucas dabbles in most instruments. As long as you can get something that resembles a melody out of it, Lucas will play it.” Yann explains, confused as to why Eliott is sending him a death glare. “But I didn't think it would be a conversation topic."
Lucas appreciates Eliott trying to defend his honor, he does, a lot and very enthusiastically if the tightness in his swimsuit means anything, but he would appreciate it more if he would just shut up this time.
Because him playing piano isn't common knowledge, because the guys met him at a time when things with his mama weren't good, and back then he had preferred to unload his anguish by beating up a set of drums than playing the piano. And the piano requires a delicate touch, and a quiet mind, both of which he didn't have at the time, so he quitted, and when he picked it up again it had been too late for him to say anything.
So he didn't.
He watches as Eliott's mouth opens to throw back a retort, but before he has the chance to, Lucas finds himself in Eliott's space.
"You don't-"
"What Eliott meant to say," Lucas cuts him off with a squeeze of his shoulder. "is that I deserve to be a conversation topic at all times."
Eliott looks at him with a quizzical expression, brows furrowed. "No, I-"
"Anyway, I'm going inside to get a beer. Do you guys want one?" Lucas pipes in again, giving Eliott a pointed look before turning to the guys with a wide grin. He signs the words to Arthur, who gives him an enthusiastic nod.
He can feel Eliott's confused eyes staring at his profile, but he doesn't look back. Instead he squeezes Eliott's shoulder a little more forcefully.
His hand slips a little, and that's when he realizes he's fully plastered to Eliott's very naked and very wet side. The realization turns his cheeks a faint pink, but he ignores it. Ignores how smooth Eliott's warm neck feels against his arm and how his skin shivers where their hips brush together; how he wants to lick the water droplets that cling to his eyelashes and roll down the side of his face, or the hand that tentatively travels to his own waist a few moments later.
His quiet gasp is drowned out by the guys' chorus of agreement as Eliott drums his fingers on his waist. He turns his head to look at him, startled by the touch, finding Eliott's soft smile directed at him.
Lucas smiles back stupidly, warmth coiling deep inside his belly.
"Lucas, dude? The beers?"
"Oh yeah, yeah." He shakes his head, taking a step back from Eliott. "Eliott, come help me out please?"
Eliott gives him a look filled with curiosity before giving in. "Sure," he says, and then he's guiding Lucas with a hand on the small of his back. "Let's go."
Lucas holds his breath the entire way into the kitchen, pretending the goosebumps arising in his body is from the slight afternoon breeze against his shoulders and not Eliott's hand on him.
"They don't know, do they?" Eliott asks once they're in the kitchen.
Lucas shuts the fridge closed with his hip and passes two beer bottles to Eliott.
"Nope."
"Don't worry." Eliott says with a glint in his eyes. He pushes past Lucas to grab a bag of chips from the shelf, his breath hot hitting the side of Lucas' face, making Lucas' breath catch. "I'll keep your secret."
And suddenly Lucas isn't sure if they're having the same conversation.
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Goddess of Dawn (Ethan Ramsey x MC) {AU} *part 4*
Open Heart AU, Ethan Ramsey x MC
Author’s note: Hello, hello, hello! HAPPY NEW YEAR MY LOVES! I hope this next year brings only smiles and friends into your life, all the happiness and love you want and need <3
We’re kicking this year off with AU, because I can :D Slowly but surely, we’re uncovering just what exactly is Claire hiding, and it’s a fun ride if I do say so myself
Previous parts:
~I
~II
~III
AO3 link:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/20903765/chapters/52679245
Tag list: @paleweasels , @lilyofchoices , @hopelessromantic1352 , @kittykatchoices, @aloehasrose , @valiantlychaoticbarbarian , @radlovedreamer , @usuallyamazinglyaverage, @palestazure, @cordoniaqueensworld, @universallypizzataco, @princess-geek, @faithhasnowords, @mightyfangirlofthefandoms, @drakewalkerfantasy, @timmagicktoad, @laceandlula, @greywitchyshots, @llamasgrl, @gingerjane15, @bucket-harrington , @marywrites-things , @ethanplaysfavorites , @mfackenthal , @betelgeusebee , @simsvetements, @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @buzz-bee-buzz, @owleyes374, @cora-nova, @aworldoffandoms, @l822, @cream-ray, @ughhhxjazzy, @silverlitskies, @justendlesssummerfeels, @togetherwearerapture, @desmaranj, @edgiestwinter, @friedherringclodthing, @daisy-ashton, @waytooattuned, @choicesgremlin , @lapisreviewsstuff, @the-soot-sprite, @writerapprentice, @chasingrobbie, @choicesobsessedd, , @x-kyne-x, @thisperfectmemory, @drakewalker04, @rookie-ramsey, @jlynn12273, @thepinknymph @dr-brianna-casey-valentine, @a-i-n-a-a-s-h
Enjoy! <3
----------------
IV.
Luca pulled up to the back entrance of the hospital, looking around for a place to park. His eyes went to the rearview mirror, observing his boss. She was sitting comfortably, chatting with ‘Dr. Ramsey’, or so she called him. The gazes he sent Claire when he thought no one was looking were familiar to him. After all, those were exactly the same emotions Luca himself had when he looked at his own wife. That Ramsey guy was far gone for his boss, and there was no denying that. Claire turned to the front of the car, smiling at Luca brightly.
“Wait here, we’ll be back in a few minutes. And check on Joe, would you? He should be done by now.” she said calmly, her voice getting colder as a memory of what happened a mere hour ago came back into her mind. He nodded, saluting her playfully.
“You’ve got it, Boss.”
Ethan got out of the car after her, not missing the look Luca gave him. It was a complex one, one that he couldn’t exactly dissect or understand completely, but definitely carried with it the protectiveness and some sense of… pity? Shaking his head, he followed Claire to the hospital, deciding not to dwell on it too much.
Hospital at five in the morning wasn’t as busy as during the day, doctors going through their graveyard shifts quietly, most of the patients sleeping. Ethan moved quietly through the halls with Claire without saying a word. They agreed to split, with him going to his office to grab his things and her checking on Charlie before going to the locker room to get her stuff. After that, they were supposed to meet out back again, but because he was faster, he went to the locker room to wait for her there. Her blonde hair was still tucked into the braid when she came into the view, her white coat back on her body. Her eyes sparked up when she saw him, a smirk tugging on the corners of her lips.
“You’re a fast one, aren’t you, Dr. Ramsey.” She laughed, walking towards her locker. He stayed put, observing her from the sidelines as she took her coat off, smoothing it out on the hanger before putting it into the locker. Her shoes came next, leaning down to take her flats off and put her heels on. His eyes were glued to her, and when she stood back up, she threw him a playful look over her shoulder, biting her lip a little. Her fingers undid the braid, letting her hair fall freely from it, framing her face delicately.
“You ready to go?” she asked a moment later, grabbing her purse and closing the locker. He nodded his head slightly, almost as though he was pulled out from the dreamy haze. Her heels clicked against the floor as she walked, a rhythmical sound giving him something to focus on, anything, just to not think about mess of a situation he witnessed earlier. Luca opened the door for them, wordlessly closing them after they got inside, starting the car. Ethan decided to break the silence, not even music could soothe his mind.
“So, you’re not living with your friends anymore?” he spoke, clearing his throat near the end of the sentence. She shook her head, leaning back against her seat.
“Even when I was living with them, I had my own place. I needed some place to live in like a normal person, and my house… would make it difficult. You’ll see for yourself in a moment.”
----- ----- -----
Ten minutes later, the car took a turn off the main road, getting lost in the thick forest. The sun was slowly rising out from the horizon, water reflecting its light. A mansion came into the view, concealed from the public view by trees and bushes. Despite that, the house seemed to have a private beach, its own big garden and a pool. Luca stopped the car in front of the house, turning around to face them.
“We’re here, Boss. I called Joe, he’s home, everything taken care of. I’ll be heading home if that’s all.” He reported, his eyes trained on Claire. She nodded with a relieved smile.
“Thank you, Luca, get home to your family. Kiss the girls from me?”
“You got it, Boss. Same time as on all days off or is there any…” his eyes ran to Ethan for a moment, a slight smirk on his lips. “… possible change of plans?”
Claire laughed slightly, shrugging her shoulders a little.
“You never know. If there is any change of plans, I’ll let you know. Have a good night, Luca.”
“You too, Claire. Oh! I talked to your maid, she said that she didn’t have time to clean the guest room after Liam left yesterday.” He winked and with that, he drove off.
Ethan’s mind was racing at the mention of another name, but he didn’t have time to question it, for Claire was already moving towards the front door. Lights came on when they sensed motion, and seconds later, door fell open, letting them in. He took in surroundings, the room overwhelmingly breathtaking. He turned to her, only to see her taking her shoes off, her bare feet touching the ground. He mirrored her actions, still looking around.
“Rookie, enlighten me, because I am utterly lost. You have this mansion, and you called my house nice? My apartment is the size of three rooms in here!” he laughed, staring at her. She giggled, touching his shoulder softly as she moved past him.
“I like your apartment! The view is to die for, the rooms are amazing, and the localization is great. Besides, I couldn’t just come into your apartment and say ‘Your apartment is great, but you should see my mansion.’” She hurried to explain, shaking her head slightly.
He took a breath to argue back, when he heard a loud hiss, followed by a sound of paws scratching against the floor. He looked down, only to see three cats, running away in frenzy from him, their tails high and voluminous, indicating they got scared. By what, he couldn’t tell, but Claire crouched, laughing a little as she called for them.
“Jack! Meredith! Archer! Come here, he doesn’t bite! Or, he does, but not cats!” she sent a sly grin his way, a double meaning of her words resounding.
“Are they scared of me?” he asked, leaning down next to her. She nodded her head gently.
“They are scared of about half of people they don’t know.”
“And the other half?”
“They other half gets scratched the second they come into the room. I guess you got lucky.” She stood up, squeezing his shoulder. “Come on, I’ll give you a short tour of the ground floor while the water in the pot boils for pasta.” She moved into the kitchen, getting the said pot going, before coming back to him.
She stood in front of the entrance to the kitchen, smiling brightly at him. Her hands framed the sight before him, her face twisting into the playful grin.
“This is my kitchen; all the cooking and late-night snacks happen here.”
“You don’t say, Rookie.” He mused, following her into the living room. Claire sat down at the back of the couch, her hands on either side of her legs.
“The living room and dining room, many late nights with files, many parties, many evenings with cats and tea.” She recalled, pointing towards the glass door. “This is the way to the beach, want to take a stroll?”
Various images flashed in his mind, flying right before his eyes. The way her hair would look in the dim light of the dawn, the way water would wash against their feet, the way his arms would wrap around her-
He shook his head, both to stop his trail of thoughts and to answer her question. There would be time to go to the beach, or at least, he hoped so. For now, he needed to get some answers, or he would go insane.
They moved on to the library, walls lined with books upon books, a small couch in the middle of the room, small lamp illuminating the room. Ethan ran his hands over the spines of multiple tomes, noticing the familiar one among them. He pulled it out, turning to her with a smug expression.
“You still have it?” he asked, his eyebrow lifting slightly. She stood by his side, looking at the book.
“This copy is six years old. I’ve read it so many times, it’s a miracle it’s still in such a good shape.” He opened it, searching for the note he wrote in it on the first day… only to find it empty.
“Where’s the note I wrote you?”
“It wasn’t my book. It was Landry’s.” she shivered at an unpleasant memory. A look of confusion twisted his features.
“Whose?” Ethan asked, making Claire laugh so loudly and strongly she had to lean onto him to catch her breath.
“He would be so pissed if he heard you say that. But yes, your note is in his book… what a pity.” Claire mused, taking the tome from his hands and putting it back onto the shelf.
“I’ll write you a new one, one day.”
----- ----- -----
They made their way back to the kitchen. Ethan sat down on the bar stool, watching as Claire worked behind the counter. She rolled up the sleeves of her sweater, her hair on top of her head in a bun. She was cutting chicken into smaller pieces when three cats returned, jumping and rubbing against her legs, fighting for attention. She gathered a few pieces into her hands, turning to Ethan.
“Want to see something fun?” she asked playfully, throwing pieces onto the floor. Jack and Archer growled at each other, throwing themselves at their food, their paws covering small cubes in a frantic fight. Meredith stayed back, watching the other two with curious eyes. As fast as they appeared, they ran away, leaving Ethan and Claire alone again.
“Do they do that often?” he wondered, tapping his fingers against the countertop. She finished preparing their food, turning around to get their tea ready.
“All the time. You get used to it, even though it’s always equally entertaining. Now, come on, we’ll eat on the couch.”
He took their plates, while she took their cups, full of steaming liquid. When she put them down, he noticed slight traces on her wrist. He touched it slightly, running his thumb over it. His eyes asked a silent question, and she went to the bathroom to get a makeup wipe. Taking off the concealer, she revealed a tattoo. A snowflake, colored with blue and purple colors, swirling around the black lines that formed the shape. He stroked her skin there, sending a shiver through her body.
“How did I not see it before?”
“I covered it with makeup, the risk of getting it recognized was too high.” She took her hand away, lacing her fingers together.
“What does that mean?” he muttered under his breath, letting her have all the time she needed to start talking. After a moment of silence, she exhaled loudly, her eyes trained on the tattoo.
“It’s a symbol. A symbol of my cartel.” She raised her green irises to meet his blue ones, seeing shock mixed with worry. “I’m the head of the biggest drug cartel in USA.”
#ethan ramsey#dr ethan ramsey#ethan ramsey choices#dr ethan ramsey x mc#dr. ethan ramsey#open heart#open heart fanfiction#playchoices#playchoices open heart#choices#choices fanfiction#fic#au#ethan x mc
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favorite ao3 - all of them now
Booksmart - Amy and Hope:
- indefinitely, maybe by freerangeegghead: In which Amy navigates post-high school life and finds something she never knew she was looking for (2 chapters, 16,532 words)
- Never Break the Shape We’ll Take by lco123: Five girls Amy kisses after graduation. (5 chapters, 10,820 words)
- homemade dynamite by magnet: A twelve-year-old Hope moves into the same apartment complex as Molly Davidson. (2 chapters, 26,818 words)
- scoring points on and off the field by lover_of_many_things: Hope is the captain of the soccer team. Amy is her nerdy and activist obsessed self. She and Amy just kind of fall into each other–literally. (one shot, 5,955 words)
Fifth Harmony - Camila and Lauren
- waterloo by listenup_folks: Lauren has always known Camila is the most amazing person in the whole world. It isn’t until her senior year that she realizes there’s only one “most amazing person in the world” and that she wants nothing more than for that person to be hers. (10 chapters, 29,825 words)
pitch perfect - emily junk and beca mitchell (seen pp2 and missed them)
- Fake It ‘Til You Make It by bmcbapej: It takes years for Beca and Emily to properly question why they’re so good at making other people believe they’re dating. (one shot, 4,165 words)
- to have and to hold (until we grow old) by moxiemorton: If their paths crossed before they met at Barden, it would’ve purely been luck. Not fate, not destiny, none of that soulmate crap. Just luck. (one shot, 8,083 words)
- Look Into My Eyes And Say You Want Me, Too (Like I Want You) by saturndust: The first time Beca Mitchell saw Emily Junk was when she met her at HSMUN.
Debate was dull as hell and Beca wanted to go home.
But then she saw the tall brunette sitting and blowing bubble gum and crap
She’s pretty.
And then she talks to her and Beca wants the conference to last forever. (one shot, 5,402 words)
- hey honey you could be my drug (…all this trash talk make me itchin’) by sylviewashere : There’s a new a capella group on campus, and they’re the Bellas main competition for Nationals. It’d be easier for Beca to hate them if their captain wasn’t so cute. (one shot, 4,168 words)
- i wouldn’t know where to start (sweet music) by sylviewashere: Beca’s known Jesse and Emily for most of her life. She never thought of Emily as more than Jesse’s little sister, and then suddenly, they become roommates, and Beca thinking that Emily is cooler than she thought. Maybe a lot cooler. (one shot, 3,666 words)
- Can I Get Your House Key? by wherehopelies: Since they were kids, Emily and Beca always used to joke how they would live together when they got older. Emily never expected those jokes to become reality, but she never expected to fall in love with her best friend since kindergarten either. (one shot, 16,706 words)
- I Wish the Real World Would Just Stop Hassling Me by wherehopelies: “Being a guardian angel is kind of the worst. Especially when you’re designated Human is the disaster that is Beca Mitchell.” (one shot, 3,761 words)
- I’m Starting To Want You (More Than I Want To) by wherehopelies: "In the years after, they’ll say it started with a kiss on a stormy night. They’ll say it began with tequila and lust and boredom. They’ll remember hot skin and frantic breathing and the taste of alcohol mixed with new beginnings and maybe just a little bit of we-shouldn’t-do-this.The truth is, it was much more innocent than that.“ (one shot, 5,907 words)
- is it cool that i said all that? (is it too soon to do this yet?) by wherehopelies: bemily tattoo au or the one where beca’s a tattoo artist and chloe is the resident piercing specialist and they’re totally into the cute girls who stop by one day. side flirty chacie because i can (one shot, 11,026 words)
- like a needle on a record (you fit right into me) by moxiemorton: She literally just wanted to get rid of a persistent frat boy at the bar. She wasn’t supposed to fall in love, damnit. (3 chapters, 9,597 words)
Girl meets world - Riley and Maya:
- When the Stars Shoot Across the Sky by TruthandLies: Maya once found her safe place in a girl who loves the stars. When that girl gives her love to someone else, Maya is forced to find a new safe place. Along the way, she and her star-loving best friend discover important things about themselves - and each other. (one shot, 11,289 words) (just makes so much sense still)
- drowning (in you) by truthandlies: Lucas has always been Riley’s excuse. Her head-cheerleader-dating-captain-of-the-football-team, straight-girl-in-love-with-straight-boy, normal-normal-normal excuse.Maya is her cataclysm. (one shot, 2184 words)
- we only know this light deep in the woodwork by BerryliciousCheerio: “She thinks she could write a hundred thousand pages on it and barely scratch the surface.or: it takes a day and also her entire life for riley matthews to fall in love” (one shot, 8,334 words)
juliantina - juliana and valentina
- que quieres de mi by unsocial_kid: Juliana is the stoic bodyguard assigned to protect the youngest Carvajal heir. Valentina is the bratty rich girl who can’t stop teasing her new bodyguard. (one shot, 2,543 words)
Legacies - Hope and Josie (and Penelope)
- From dusk till dawn by SilentRain91: It started off as stolen moments when nobody was looking. Soon, it became their little secret. Josie never kept something this big from Lizzie before. (16 chapters, 35,144 words)
- Soccer and Sunshine by misa_pisa: Josie is asked to join her school’s soccer team, by no other than the captain herself. Josie had always admired Hope from the far and now gets the chance to train right beside her. The two of them start to spend a lot of time together during private soccer lessons and math tutoring. In between looks, talks and jokes the feelings between them start to grow. (6 chapters, 11,523 words)
- Have I lost my mind by Knight_of_darkness: Josie has to question her sanity as she keeps seeing a strange girl in her dreams (2 chapters, 34,035 words)
- Stealin’ My Heart by Thatoneloser_kid: “I’m leaving as soon as I turn eighteen,” Hope said.“Where?” Penelope asked.“No idea,”“Maybe we could all go,” Josie suggested offhandedly, reclining back on the blanket, both Penelope and Hope mirroring her, Hope hooking an arm behind her head.“Thelma and Louise this shit,” Penelope added with a little laugh.“Didn’t they die?” Hope asked.“Mm,” Penelope hummed, “Went out in a blaze of glory.” (one shot, 12,931 words)
- the infinite curse of a lonely heart by dandelionlighters: For centuries, he had served as a winged assistant to Aphrodite, doing her bidding and sometimes—when she wasn’t looking—his own. He had been reaching for an arrow from his quiver when it had happened. He had felt a pull at the back of his head one second, and then he had disappeared from existence in the next moment. (2 chapters, 3,325 words)
- the game by PosieParkzman: Everyone knew of Hope and Penelope. Desired by many, heartbreakers by trade. Though not everyone knew that love to them was a game, a game they liked to play. With a new year the game resets and the hunt begins. What happens when they both desire the new girl in town, Josie Saltzman. (28 chapters, 47,079 words)
- by summer’s ripening breath by slytherinmayflower: "This bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath, may prove a beauteous flower when next we meet” (9 chapters, 79,720 words) (I think I finished this in 2 days and I don’t regret any minute of it)
- when I kissed the teacher by Little_Miss_Silver: Josie's failing one of her classes. What happens when the reason she's failing ends up tutoring her? (2 chapters, 4,473 words)
Supergirl - Kara and Lena
- hope you’ll be safe (in the arms of another) by thistableforone: Lena Luthor and Maura Isles went to boarding school together. They had a close relationship, and despite the years they find the chemistry is still there. The only difference is, they’re both in love with someone else now. (3 chapters, 13,112 words)
- A Ribbon at a Time by abcooper: After Lex Luthor defeated Superman, after the courts declared him innocent, after CADMUS rose to power, 16 year old Kara Danvers went into hiding. Five years later, a chance encounter with L-Corp CEO Lena Luthor throws her back into everything she’s been running from. (5 chapters, 27, 929 words)
- If you don’t love me, pretend (just for a few more hours)… by Khrat9: where Kara and Lena aren’t friends. One night stands… but like several night per month, sometime more. (5 chapters, 24,817 words)
- “Professional” Curiosity by TheSpaminator: Lena Luthor and Kara Danvers are the CEO’s of their own respective family owned companies. Their families are feuding. Their companies are feuding. So does that mean that by default, so are they? (6 chapters, 17,582 words)
- here we are, two helping hands by falsealarm: A chord of unease vibrates in the pit of Lena’s stomach as Kara sets the folder in front of her and says, “I need to talk to you about something important.” (one shot, 9,016 words)
- Surprise Me by Thatoneloser_kid: Kara is a Barista who is in a band and Lena is a CEO with a child and an ex-husband (one shot, 5,060 words)
- the more it’s gone (the more it takes away) by cyclothimic: A huge part of her was tempted to just leave National City to the wind and go around the globe. But deep down, she knew that if she abandoned the city, that would only piss Lena off more (one shot, 5,273 words)
- in black ink my love may still shine bright by PandaPaladin: On an awfully slow day at CatCo, Kara writes on her desk to complain about her work life to nobody in particular. When she comes back from a break, someone with messy, loopy penmanship writes back to her. (one shot, 11,412 words) (love it so much)
- supergirl in training by wtfoctagon: Lena Luthor doesn’t plan to have any kids. Or to get married, even, really. After the revelation that she is actually of Luthor blood after all, she’s quite set on ending the family line with her and not taking the risk of any more drama.Then Lorelai L. Danvers crashes into her life, claiming to be her seventeen year old daughter from the future. (19 chapters, 71,381 words) (just take your time while reading it. It makes everything so much better)
- take my hand, take my whole life too by pandapaladin: “There’s a stone statue in Midvale. A beautiful lady with her hands on her hips, a confident smile on her lips, and every feature on her body looks like it was molded from the corners of space. Her chest has a wide, golden ‘S’ on it, and the locals like to affectionately call her Supergirl.” (one shot, 15,135 words)
- now you’re speaking my language by pandapaladin: Lena, wanting to surprise her best friend, learns Kryptonian to make Kara feel at home.During a night out with Kara and her cousin, Lena overhears them speaking in Kryptonian— about how much Kara liked her. (one shot, 7,073 words)
- we were mint to be by pandapaladin: The door to the ice cream parlor jingled to signify the arrival of a new customer. Kara Danvers looked up from her cramped work area, wishing that there was a way she could catch the eye of a certain Luthor, who ordered a modest scoop of mint chocolate every Wednesday morning. (one shot, 17,221 words)
- a spoken word is not a sparrow by pandapaladin: Linda agreed to help Kara confess her feelings to a certain friend. She’ll just confess Kara’s undying love for Lena, then they’ll switch out, and Kara will get the girl. It was as easy as baking pie.Except Lena doesn’t believe them. (one shot, 9,045 words)
- I believe, you can get me through the night by jazzfordshire: Kara is a sexless housewife in 1969, feeling trapped with nowhere to go. But when mysterious, kind-hearted Lena Luthor moves in next door, hosting swinger’s parties but ignoring the men, Kara’s whole world shifts on its axis. (2 chapters, 21,206 words)
- I keep my distance (but you still catch my eye) by jazzfordshire: Lena and Alex, two strangers recovering from breakups, swap houses over the holidays for a spur-of-the-moment trip. Neither of them expected to find a holiday fling – but what happens on vacation, stays on vacation. Right? (2 chapters, 26,451 words)
- love & collecting butterflies by somanyfeelings: "a childhood au where Lena and Kara grow up near each other and are BFFS and they have pillow fights and hang out in Lena’s treehouse and carve their names into the tree and then as they grow up they go from BFFs to soulmates” (one shot, 3,860 words)
- You to Me, Me to You by wtfoctagon: When Kara sees a vase of flowers on Lena’s desk, she doesn’t get jealous per se– it’s just that she thinks that Lena deserves so much better than a measly, cliche bunch of roses. (one shot, 6,497 words)
- we are what we pretend to be by C_AND_B: After the unrestricted office access, and the flowers, and the surprise visits to Catco, everyone just kinda starts to assume Kara and Lena are dating, and maybe they should let them. (AKA, Lena and Kara really just date whilst pretending they’re fake dating). (one shot, 25,164 words)
- Luthor Escort Services by uhpockuhlipz: Kara needs a last minute date to her sister’s wedding. Luthor’s Escort Services is there to help, but Lena is nothing like what Kara was expecting (one shot, 4,315 words)
- let’s make this a reality by spacemanearthgirl: Or Kara goes back into the past one more time. A fix it of sorts for the last episode. (one shot, 940 words)(found it on tumblr)
- Don’t Be A Cliché by BroodyJC: “I am ashamed of all of you for not letting me know about this.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest, shakes her head. “It makes so much sense know.” And she smiles, as if she knows something the others don’t. “So, Kara, are you going to ask her to the game tomorrow?” (3 chapters, 28,240 words) (think I read this one 3 times already)
-Sanctuary by SilentRain91: Lena is curious about a new project her mother has been gushing about without sharing specific details. Wanting to find out more, she sneaks into the restricted area to see what the fuss is about. What she didn’t expect was to find a girl in a cage. (2 chapters, 5,367 words)
- the coldest blood (runs through my veins) by AgentJoanneMills: “You know I’d kill for you, right?”Lena laughs, amused, even as her toes curl at the affection in Kara’s voice. “You kill people anyway,” she points out.“True,” Kara allows, “but I’d enjoy doing it more, if it were for you.” (one shot, 2,810 words)
- i don’t wanna give you up (so what’s it gonna be?) by statisticallysignificant: it was practically high school code for the most popular girl to end up with the most popular boy at school, the nerdiest girl to end up with the dorkiest boy at school. thank god, the parties in question have different ideas.(3 chapters, 3,167 words)
- Scripted Destiny by devschreibt: On her 17th birthday, her destiny will reveal itself. On that day, the first words of her one true love would mark her skin forever. And when she finally gets the courage to actually see the writing, she cringes, because on her shoulder blade it says, “(mouthed) above us only sky.” Now what? (3 chapters, 18,795 words)
- the heiress, the girl of steel, and the man who fell to earth by littlebrother: Basically, what if Lena found Mon El's pod? (12 chapters, 66,388 words) (this is my favorite. Seriously it made me miss mon el)
- The Fifth Wall by Black_Tea_and_Bones: Kara goes to bed with Mon-El, and wakes up with Lena Luthor.But it isn't Kara’s bed, and they’re not in Lena’s apartment, and that is definitely not their baby... Right? (28 chapters, 109,226 words)
- For the Things We Lost in the Undergrowth by seabiscuit: All Kara Danvers wants to do is go to college, solve the crime, get the girl, and secure her beat on the campus newspaper. Unfortunately for her, it doesn't all happen in that order. (6 chapters, 47,479 words)
- A Foolish Wit by seabiscuit: Lena Luthor needs a husband, Clark Danvers needs an easy resolution to his cash flow problem.Unfortunately, the best laid plans often go awry. (3 chapters, 27,890 words)
dc’s legends of tomorrow - ava and sara
- you make me smile (please stay for a while now) by CoffeeAndArrows and moonlitprincess: "Something about Ava's small smile, about the comforting warmth of her beside Sara, the familiarity of wandering to class together, the way she didn’t seem to look at Sara as though she expected anything, expecting a way of acting and being and reacting, as though Sara didn’t owe her anything. For the first time since she’d walked into school earlier that morning, Sara felt like she could breathe.Maybe, just maybe, this year wasn’t off to an entirely bad start." (35 chapters, 342,035 words) (read it in a month, while working and uni and it made life so much happier)
- i just wanna spend the nights with you by moonlitprincess: college au where ava is only MILDLY crushing on campus heartthrob sara lance and can totally 100% be chill with a casual hookup ... until she realises sara has abs. (ft. our favourite ladies being useless gay disasters & plenty of unexpected feelings) (one shot, 8,963 words)
- for reasons wretched and divine by Phoebmonster: AU - Ava is a princess, and Sara is the bandit who's kidnapped her, and together they have an adventure that changes them both, and their world, forever - featuring the rest of the legends as the loveable rogues we know they are at heart. (6 chapters, 20,727 words)
- the day before you came by Phoebmonster: "So, the brief is ..." She tapped her fingers on the wheel. "Make your Mom believe you're really gay and give you some peace and quiet next year."Ava nodded, and Sara grinned."Right, I can do that." She said, more to herself than anything.aka the 'i've hired you to pretend to be my partner to annoy my family at christmas but i think i'm really falling for you' AU that Absolutely no one asked for. (6 chapters, 13,566 words)
-if only, if only (you were mine) by Phoebmonster: high school au - ava and sara are paired together to look after a robot baby for their social studies classthey've never liked eachother, so a weekend in close proximity of eachother with a screaming baby can only end badly ... right? (one shot, 10,787 words)
- inching close, closer to the edge by JourEtNuit: “But why do we have to pretend to be married?” Sara whines. “Can't we, I don't know, go as friends or cousins, or something. Oh, I know! She could be my secretary...”“It's a couples retreat, Miss Lance," Rip says, tiredly. (one shot, 5,381 words)
- see me, feel me (love me) by lexa_lives_in_us: Sara notices.
Of course Sara notices. She’s a former assassin and a vigilante, a really good one at that, she has to be observant and aware of other people’s quirks, to get her job done.
So, of course, she notices.
It’s Ava who doesn’t notice how closely Sara has been paying attention to her. (one shot, 4,454 words) (i cried through the whole thing)
- Not The Way You Plan by plinys: In which Sara lies about dating a guy in a coma, and might accidentally be falling in love with his sister in the meantime. (one shot, 6,816 words)
- painted me golden by lucylikestowrite: Ava and Sara meet at Ava's sister's wedding. (one shot, 3,914 words)
- sleepovers (in my bed) by izziebee: Sara and Ava are not friends. Okay, fine they are friends, but definitely nothing more than that.Or 5 times Ava and Sara sleep together (it's platonic of course) and 1 time they don’t. (6 chapters, 6,633 words)
runaways - Karolina and Nico
- like or like like by makeitmakesense: But, she supposes, all great rivalries have some sort of wild origin story to explain the bitter air that surrounds them - what would make her and Nico’s any different? (3 chapters, 37,891 words)
- and now she’s so devoid of color she don’t know what it means (and she’s blue) by abnormalhuman: Nico Minoru hasn’t been able to see color for as long as she can remember. Needless to say, Nico has lost all hope of ever meeting her soulmate and getting to see the beautiful colors of the world again. The chances of ever meeting her soulmate and kissing them is slim to none. It’s a hard concept to grasp, but then again, a world of darkness is all she knows. (one shot, 10,655 words)
- maybe if I told you the right words at the right time (you’d be mine) by somniatoressinespe: or “they go on a roadtrip and nico spends half the time staring at karolina” (one shot,16,173 words)
- the 100 - abby griffin and raven reyes
- On the Way Home by hummingbirdswords: “we catch the same bus home and i always fall asleep, but you always wake me up at my stop” AU (one shot, 5,308 words)
bonus - lena luthor and sara lance (yes it’s real)
- Stumbling Toward Enlightenment by Selenay: Sara Lance is a yoga instructor. Lena Luthor is CEO of Luthor Industries.They're from different worlds, but they might just be exactly what each other needs. (one shot, 8,992 words) (best one, gays, best one)
#ao3#been pushing it away#the 100#abby griffin#raven reyes#doctor mechanic#marvel's runaways#runaways#karolina dean#nico minoru#deanoru#supergirl#kara danvers#lena luthor#supercorp#hosie#legacies#hope mikaelson#josie saltzman#penelope park#juliana valdes#valentina carvajal#juliantina#amar a muerte#girl meets world#gmw#riley matthews#maya hart#rilaya#booksmart
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Red Queen: Chapter 15
So, last time I found a worthy target for some anger in an otherwise “meh” YA book. I mean, this book is really, really cliche on a level that even I can barely forgive, and I recognized that tropes are important to defining genre, but I hadn’t found anything yet that made me angry. Then Dickbag happened.
If you have a better nickname for him, please comment below.
Horse is startled awake by her servant, Walsh. I’m not sure I remember mentioning her before, but she has a servant who is a Red. And startled is an understatement. Horse almost downright Tazers the poor woman in shock.
Horse gets out of bed, trying to apologize to the woman because she’s not completely the worst, and Walsh just mouths “Rise, Red as the dawn” to her (because of course she does) before shoving a teacup of water into Horse’s hand.
“And at the bottom of the cup, a piece of paper bleeds ink. The ink swirls as I read the message, the water leeching it away, erasing any trace, until there’s nothing but cloudy, gray liquid and a blank curl of paper. No evidence of my first act of rebellion.”
Apparently the paper said “Midnight,” but that isn’t my gripe. She knows there are cameras in the room. Isn’t it going to be suspicious that she just stares into her teacup before setting it aside? Also, the thing with prisoners, especially if you have people serving her that might sympathize with her, usually trays and food are searched. So either the writer wants us to know that the king isn’t having her service checked for anything from the political dissidents running around that he knows about just in case they might contact her, or the writer is just not smart enough to think about that.
If you couldn’t tell by now, there are a lot of similar YA set ups involving political intrigue, but the writers don’t really think things through or do their research enough to make it convincing. In this situation, someone would need to dispose of the ink-paper trick in the room filled with cameras. So unless that ink is drinkable, and someone (Horse) drinks it, what is Walsh going to do with it?
Maybe I’m overthinking this. Whatever. It just feels stupid.
There is a new schedule on Horse’s nightstand. Horse now has training just as Cal said she would. She’s impressed that he worked so fast. As Lucas walks her to training (I’m assuming because the time line is awful at the moment) he warns her to be careful because the trainers are brutal. Then we find out he entered the army at nine.
Okay, what is with YA and child soldiers. Is that just another shortcut for Current Administration Bad? HUNGER GAMES did it to make a point, but here its just another thing for the writer - fuck it - Aveyard to be all “War is bad, m’kay?”
“But Lucas shrugs like it’s nothing. ‘The front is the best place for training. Even the princes were trained at the front, for a time.’
“‘But you’re here now,’ I say.... ‘You’re not a soldier anymore.’
For the first time, Lucas’s dry smile disappears completely. ‘It wears on you.’... ‘Men aren’t meant to be at war for long.’
‘And what about Reds?’ I hear myself ask.... ‘Can they stand war better than Silvers?’“
I’m just going to lay down right here and try not to start shredding this book. First, you train people before you send them to battle so they know what they’re doing. Second, how old are the princes? When did they go? They’re not even the age of a modern US enlistee (18). Like, what the fuck? Also, why would you stick the goddamn crown princes on the front line? Are you trying to destroy the royal lineage?
I have been reduced to rhetorical questions.
And then Lucas answers:
“... looking a little uncomfortable. ‘That’s the way the world works. Reds serve, Reds work, Reds fight. It’s what they’re good at. It’s what they’re meant to do.’”
Nice on the casual classism.
“Not everyone is special.”
I wish this book understood that more, what with 3 guys lusting after our lovely protag.
Horse gets mad at him, but mostly just brushes him off. Lucas notices her feelings and warns her that he if he doesn’t have the luxury of asking questions, than neither does she, even going so far as to use her new name.
Lucas will not ask questions. Despite his black eyes, his Silver blood, his Samos family, he will not pull at the thread that could unravel my existence.
This confuses me. Her italics thought bubble at the beginning feels more like a criticism than Horse’s realization that Lucas won’t do anything that will hurt her, even going so far as to try to help her understand how silvers Silvers think and how controlling their upper echelons are. I mean, its pretty clumsily done, but I get what Aveyard was going for. The italics double don’t work because this book is in first person. We’re in Horse’s head. We don’t need thought bubbles. The whole thing is a thought bubble!
Second, “Silver blood” or “silver blood?” I feel like it should be the second. Just saying.
Lucas also continues to sympathetic, making all the woman hate even more pronounced.
Le sigh.
At training, Horse is handed what sounds like a Lycra jumpsuit before entering what sounds like my university gym. Multi-storied, lots of equipment, dozens of baby-faced young adults in better shape than I am. Of course, all those college students are more mature than most of the people in this book, and mind their own damn business.
Unlike Polarity Princess.
The moment Horse walks in, PP drops what she’s doing to mock her. She is of course joined by her mean girl club in the process. We’re spared because Horse ignores her and immediately goes to find Maven. They talk a little, mostly about what their life will entail after they leave and the ball before they leave - which leads to dancing and how Silver girls are the worst.
Maven then asks how her visit with her family went. She tells him it was difficult because she found out one of her brothers was executed before they were all released. Mavey places his hand on hers, apologizes, and says he that he’s sure he didn’t deserve it because the guy Silvers aren’t shit heads.
Then for a moment Horse thinks he might be able to read minds, which leads to this little detail:
Few silvers Silvers inherit abilities from their mothers, and no one had more than one ability.
The low key misogyny is killing me.
And if Maven turns out to be the evil prince, he’s totally going to have his moms abilities. Watch. Or at least that’s what I would do.
Hey, I never said I wrote capital L literature.
We get some more description about powers. Shades can bend light around themselves for invisibility. Windweaver says exactly what you think it does, and that is probably the least lame power name so far, while also not belonging at all. Then you have eyes, which have limited precognition. You know, they can see the next 5 seconds or something. If I remember right (and my Teen Titan’s knowledge is rusty) Rose Wilson has that ability. I’m still confused what a silk is. They still sounds like a D&D Rogue. Or a hunska from Red Sister. (Go read that instead. It’s written by a dude and has 100% less misogyny and a 99% female cast.)
A soft voice orders them into a line, followed by an old man with Cal and a telekinetic boy. I refuse to call them “telkies.” It sounds like something I would put on a baby’s butt for diaper rash. The old man is her trainer, and apparently used to oversee executions. Turns out this was because he’s a null - he nullifies powers, or turns them off as the book puts it.
He can reduce a Silver to what they hate most: a Red. He can turn their abilities off. He can make them normal.
All that wealth and privilege, but removing their powers can make them normal. If only it were that simple. It’s almost like this book doesn’t understand power structures at all.
They begin to run laps. Horse is happy it’s something she recognizes until it isn’t when a piece of wall swings out and slams her in the stomach. She’s startled, but manages to keep up. And before you think this is some cool tech, the telekinetic controls the pieces.
Their powers return, and a gun barrel without the actual gun part rises from the floor.
Only the telky’s power makes it move, not some greater, strange technology. The abilities are all they have.
I thought they were defined by having power and Reds having tech. Why is this a new revelation to you? Unless this is book treating the reader like an idiot again.
Horse is called forward for target practice first, and again we hear about how special she is because she can create electricity despite bio-electricity being a thing. She misses the first target but hits the second. PP is a bitch who won’t clap. The instructor moves onto the next instead of patting her on the back. I can’t tell if this is supposed to be a bad thing.
The work out calls wore her out, but she’s still happy for it. Happier for the quietness of Julian’s class, even though the moving time means she’s closer to her midnight meet up. When she arrives, he has book labeled with years. Turns out they’re death records for the war. She knows her executed brother probably isn’t in them, and makes the lamp flick on an off in her distress. Julian asks her why, and she says its the new schedule. He says she did fine today, she gets cranky about him asking to be there, and he uses her power on her to calm her down.
Horse is upset he does this, and he explains he’s the last Singer. They can control people as long as they hear them. (Found the Bards.) Julian launches into how his sister married the king for love, not by Queenstrial, and how they could talk their way to the throne, but didn’t because they’re nice.
I don’t honesty hate this, but there are so many toxic women in this book that we see on a regular basis that it makes me sad that the one that sounds non-toxic is dead.
Horse relates to Julian, mentioning Shade and how he was executed. Julian tells her that they “removed” his sister too and will do it to anyone that gets in the way. He warns her that over-throwing them would take too much planning and luck, and to not get over her head. She knows that she’s already in deep, but doesn’t tell him this.
I actually kind of liked this scene because Horse behaves like a person. Even Julian just comes across as sad and lonely. I just wish that Julian was a woman so Horse could have a relationship with the same sex that wasn’t pure hate. We don’t see her family enough to matter. I think that’s one of the things that bugs me about this book the most. Most of the women are bad, and most of the men are good. Why? Just... why?
Next time, Horse has her midnight meeting.
#reader ramble#book review#chapter by chapter#red queen#victoria aveyard#mare barrow#reds and silvers#ya#fantasy#super powers#mareena titanos#her we go again#i'm going to finish it
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for that ship meme dawn/barry?
From
General:
Rate the Ship - Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs
How long will they last? - Seeing as they’re best friends, if not forever, then I can see them successfully having a long term relationship.
How quickly did/will they fall in love? - I’d say they always loved each other. But as for realizing it, or doing something about it, they don’t quite get there until late adolescence or early twenties. It would take a really simple, but breath taking moment for them to realize “Wow, I’m in love with this person.”
How was their first kiss? - Tbh, you’d think it was super clumsy, but it’s highkey heated with passion. Just like fireworks.
Wedding:
Who proposed? - I can see Barry to be the one proposing.
Who is the best man/men? - Lucas lmao
Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - May, Lyra and/or Cynthia!
Who did the most planning? - Dawn of course.
Who stressed the most? - They’re both stressed in their own different ways, but Barry would be freaking out about it WAY more.
How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.
Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Dawn’s father. lmao fuck him.
Sex:
Who is on top? - I can see them alternating a lot.
Who is the one to instigate things? - Sometimes Dawn, sometimes Barry (which takes her by surprise when he does)
How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now
How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head
How long do they normally last? - One one hand, I can see those two going at it all night because they both enjoy exploring the sensual side of their relationship, a lot. But on another hand, I am super tempted to say Barry busts so mf fast.
Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - I’d say yeah. They try their best to please the other as much as possible.
How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.
How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.
Children:
How many children will they have naturally? - I’d say one or two.
How many children will they adopt? - One maybe?
Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Although it does alternate, I’d say it ends up being Barry who gets stuck with it more than Dawn would, because she can count on him to do the job faster LMAO.
Who is the stricter parent? - Even though Barry has a strict side with the kids, it’s Dawn who takes the cake on this one.
Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Dawn. The kids get it from their dad SMH.
Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Dawn does!! Barry is very forgetful in the beginning, but starts to become good at remembering to pack lunches down the road.
Who is the more loved parent? - They’re both equally loved, and are loved differently by their children.
Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? Barry. I mean, obviously they both do, but Barry is a lot more enthusiastic about it and would definitely want to know about the type of environment his kids are in. Dawn shares that same concern with him as well, but usually the reason why she doesn’t attend is because of Champion duties or a some other meeting at her fashion company.
Who cried the most at graduation? - Barry. Hands down. He tries to stay strong for like, one second but then it becomes a tearful mess.
Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - They both would, but Dawn is most likely to. Mostly because it’s her money lmao.
Cooking:
Who does the most cooking? - Dawn.
Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Barry.
Who does the grocery shopping? - They go together.
How often do they bake desserts? - Not often, but like, twice a month? They have so much fun with it, but don’t do it as often because it’s too time consuming.
Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Meat lover.
Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Barry, because he’s very thoughtful and sweet with her!
Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Barry. Though they’re both adventurous and all, Barry’s got a lot more energy than her so he’d be super pumped to go out and do something.
Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? - Neither of them would burn down the house, but Barry would be the one that comes close to it, but he’s got fast reflexes so that is never an issue.
Chores:
Who cleans the room? - They’re both responsible for cleaning, but Dawn is a lot more attentive when it comes to it.
Who is really against chores? - Barry, but does so reluctantly, and at a much faster pace.
Who cleans up after the pets? - Dawn.
Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - LMAO BARRY.
Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - I wanna say Dawn because she does the planning in this relationship, but Barry would go on about how they’re taking up his time and if they don’t show up, they’re all getting fined LMAO. But that’s mostly because he’s very social, likes having people over and gets so excited when they plan to have guests.
Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Barry. And he’s keeping it too.
Misc:
Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Oh, Dawn has that one in the bag.
Who takes the dog out for a walk? - They walk their dog pokemon together!!
How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Just once a year, but they go all out. They’re very enthusiastic when it comes to holidays
What are their goals for the relationship? - They’ve got a super blissful yet crazy relationship, their goals are really just more of a “go with the flow” type of thing. Whatever happens, they always wanna be best friends.
Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - Dawn is more likely to, she loves her sleep. Barry is an early bird, but they both would sleep in together, all happy and shit.
Who plays the most pranks? - Barry is more likely to.
#thanks for the ask anon!! twinleaf was one of my first dp ships#twinleafshipping#answers from the sun and the stars | ( asks. )#a page from my diary | ( headcanons. )
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If the night is darkest before dawn, then GothamCity is darkest before the Knight. At least, that is the case with the Batman prequel series Gotham, which returns to FOX for its fifth and final season Thursday.
The season, which has received the subtitle “Legend of the Dark Knight,” will end in a 10-year jump into the future with a reveal of Batman (and a portly Penguin). But before the Caped Crusader arrives, audiences will see the story picking up a year into No Man’s Land then cycling back to Day 87 after Gotham City has been isolated by the U.S. government. Referencing the year-long 1999 DC Comics event of the same name, this No Man’s Land has Jim Gordon (Ben McKenzie) of the GCPD establishing a safe “green zone,” and attempting to hold the city together as villains divide it up into multiple territories.
There are “elevated stakes” in Season 5, McKenzie said on a recent visit to Gotham’s Brooklyn, New York set where he and other cast members teased the show’s conclusion.
“Gordon is literally and figuratively on an island, on an island inside an island, surrounded by hostile forces,” he added. “It’s a strong starting off point, and he’s not in a great place when you first see him -- and then it gets worse.”
Showrunner John Stephens agreed that Gordon is put through the wringer this season, but so is the entire city. He said that there is a “velocity” to the storytelling of the show’s final outing, which flows from a cataclysmic event at the start of No Man’s Land.
Whereas an earthquake separated Gotham City from the rest of the nation in the comics, this iteration of the metropolis has been closed off following explosions courtesy of proto-Joker Jeremiah. Gotham’s colorful rogues gallery of Penguin, Barbara Kean’s Sirens, Ivy, Freeze, Scarecrow, Firefly, Zsasz – and a couple other factions, such as Low Boyz and Street Demons – each rule their own evil fiefdoms when a new player arrives in town in the form of Eduardo Dorrance aka Bane (Shane West).
While there is a lot going on at the top of Season 5, Stephens said the chaos of No Man’s Land, and the divvied-up territories, has allowed Gotham to focus on core characters.
“Once you get into the final season, what you want more than anything else is your core characters interacting with one another,” he said. “What you want are more Penguin/Nygma scenes, more Barbara and Penguin, Selina and Bruce. Let’s really tell a full Nygma story that is going to drive him through Penguin, through Barbara. Let’s tell the story of Barbara and the whatever the next version of her is going to be.”
“We are, in a weird way, right back to that pier scene in the pilot,” said Robin Lord Taylor, who portrays Oswald Cobblepot (aka Penguin), of his character’s endgame with Gordon. The pier scene is the one in which Gordon chose not to kill Cobblepot, a decision that has continued to come back and haunt him.
During No Man’s Land, Penguin selects City Hall (and the largest controlled zone) as his territory, and begins operating as a war profiteer, controlling ammunition in Gotham, and serving “almost as a dictator in a tiny country,” said Taylor.
“Gordon wants to re-establish traditional order, and re-connect the city to the rest of the world, but it’s the entire opposite for Penguin. It is the dark and light coming together, trying to control what’s left of Gotham City.”
Beyond Penguin, Gordon must also contend with Bane. The Gotham version of the character is an old buddy of Gordon’s from the military who arrives in the sequestered city on a mission. Stephens said this special ops government agent Bane is “integral” to the resolution of No Man’s Land. But McKenzie revealed that while Gordon is initially happy to see his comrade, their history is complicated.
“As much as they saw hard times together, you reveal through action that the story is not quite as simple as that they served together,” he said. “It reveals rather quickly that is a little more sinister.”
McKenzie also teased that when Gordon feels the weight of the world on his shoulders in this fight to save Gotham City, he ends up making a big decision mid-season in the heat of passion that has major ramifications.
Though Bane is appearing on Gotham as a big bad, he’s not the “main big bad,” according to Stephens. Plus, the show is at its core about Gordon, his relationship to Bruce Wayne, and the rise of Batman. So, with 10 episodes in the final season, Gotham will lean into “iconic moments,” according to McKenzie, that presage Batman and Gordon’s partnership.
Bruce Wayne actor David Mazouz confirmed this, and said that the Season 4 rooftop scene between his character and McKenzie’s leads straight into a strong alliance between them in Season 5 as Bruce battles within No Man’s Land.
“That is where we pick up,” said Mazouz. “He is part of the GCPD essentially – but there is not official GCPD anymore.” The actor also said he’ll have plenty of Batman moments in the season, and will introduce a “very Batman tool” in Episode 3.
Stephens said the series' approach has been to tell the long-term story of the city that created Batman, and through Gordon, present a character who fought a war to save the city, and “in the process, ends up losing the war but training the war hero.” So, at the end of the day, and season, Gotham City is still broken, but Batman will carry on Gordon’s torch. Narratively, the showrunner said there is likewise a responsibility by the series' end to move all the pieces to a place that resembles Batman lore.
For instance, Bruce’s relationship with the Gotham version of the Joker, Jeremiah Valeska (Cameron Monaghan) will dial closer to the classic Batman/Joker relationship.
“Jeremiah wants to be best friends with Bruce, Bruce hates Jeremiah, but in Jeremiah’s world, Bruce is playing hard to get,” said Mazouz. “He does awful things that he thinks will eventually make Bruce come around to him, but neither can end this cycle since Bruce cannot kill, and Jeremiah doesn’t want to hurt Bruce.”
Monaghan added his Joker-esque character, who has undergone multiple transformations during the series, has more changes in store. Jeremiah could not bring Bruce over to his way of thinking, so he continues to descend further into madness. Monaghan said his character’s love of Bruce is his final element of humanity, and vulnerability.
“He is enjoying himself more, but he is also more emotional, and caring, about his relationship with Bruce,” he said. “By the end of the season, boy, we have a whole new evolution with him. And we get to see him change in an extremely significant way.”
As Bruce Wayne’s relationship takes shape with his archnemesis, the relationship with his father-figure/manservant Alfred Pennyworth (Sean Pertwee) also begins to resemble its comic book counterpart. Mazouz said the top of Season 5 does not see a lot of Bruce and Alfred together. Bruce is off fighting villains in No Man’s Land while Alfred is taking care of an injured Selina Kyle (Camren Bicondova). And when the two do interact, Alfred chooses to let his young charge make his own mistakes instead of prohibiting him.
Said Mazouz, “There is one particularly great scene, I think in Episode 5, where Bruce says, ‘I need to do this,’ and Alfred says, ‘It’s really stupid, and you’re letting emotions getting in the way…’ And Alfred is right.”
“Alfred kind of does let him go,” said Pertwee. “Bruce goes, ‘And don’t try and stop me,’ and I go, ‘I’m not. Go on then.’ You can see the confusion in Bruce’s face, but he means it because he’s not going to listen to me anyway.”
Pertwee said the final season momentum puts the two in a situation people know and love, and “we get the ending fans deserve.”
As Gotham seeks to root itself in familiar Dark Knight territory by its end – it was revealed at New York Comic Con that Batman would indeed appear by season’s end in a flash-forward – the series has thrived with twists on classic mythologies, and with surprising pairings.
For instance, Alfred, who will be the focus of his own prequel series, has been a brawling badass butler who has teamed up with both Harvey Bullock (Donal Logue), and future Catwoman Selina. Pertwee said in Episode 8 of the season it becomes evident how much of himself he sees in Selina, which is why he has allowed her to stick around. Plus, Alfred is at the end of a tragic turn by having his back broken by Bane following a “big altercation,” as teased at NYCC.
And Taylor said there is more to come from Penguin’s relationship with Cory Michael Smith’s Ed Nygma/Riddler, especially in a scene later in the season which is one of his favorites.
“Penguin is responsible for bringing him back to life,” said Taylor. “So, for the Riddler to really learn what happened to him, he needs to come to Oswald at some point because Oswald does have that power of information over him.”
Meanwhile, Gotham has a handful of other characters such as Bullock, Barbara Kean (Erin Richards), Lucius Fox (Chris Chalk), Lee Thompkins (Morena Baccarin), Tabitha Galavan (Jessica Lucas), Zsasz (Anthony Carrigan), and Hugo Strange (BD Wong) to put in place by the finale – while also introducing a Harley Quinn-esque character, other familiar comic book villains (Magpie, Mother and Orphan), as well as the aforementioned mysterious big bad, and a man-versus-state conflict between the city and the government.
But Stephens said he understands the sense of responsibility to let all these characters “live in their moments” despite a final batch of episodes that move “very, very quickly.”
As for McKenzie, the actor said it is a blessing to know the end of Gotham is coming because so often shows get canceled without being able to write to a conclusion.
He said loyal fans are going to get the moments they’ve been waiting for, thrown in with abandon. And it’s all happening “right damn now, because we don’t have any more time.”
#Edward Nygma#Cory Michael Smith#Oswald Cobblepot#Robin Lord Taylor#Jim Gordon#James Gordon#Ben McKenzie#Leslie Thompkins#Morena Baccarin#Harvey Bullock#Donal Logue#Camren Bicondova#Selina Kyle#Bruce Wayne#David Mazouz#Alfred Pennyworth#Sean Pertwee#Barbara Kean#Erin Richards#Tabitha Galavan#Jessica Lucas#Lucius Fox#Chris Chalk
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S.T REWRITE - S1:E2; Chapter Two, The Weirdo on Maple Street - [Pt. 3]
A Will Byers x Reader Series
Y/n, Lucas, Dustin, and Mike try to talk to the girl they found in the woods. Hopper questions an anxious Joyce about an unsettling phone call.
||3rd Person POV||
KNOCK
KNOCK
KNOCK
KNOCK
KNOCK
The man waits patiently on the patio of the Byers house after knocking. He glanced through the window, and listens for any sign of life in the house only to be met with silence. He takes out a walkie talkie.
"We're all clear."
"Copy that." A second voice crackled through the other end. The man turns around and looks to the seemingly empty utility van parked in the front lawn that read "HAWKINS POWER AND LIGHT" until the side doors slide open.
Three men in hazmat suits step out the van. The third being Dr. Martin Brenner, who takes in his surroundings before leading his men around the property. The three men each have their own equipment as they scan the yard for any unusual activity. Their scanners lead them to the backyard.
They each spread out; Brenner was lead to the old shed. He opened the shed door and stepped inside. The beeping sound of his scanner grew louder and more frequent.
He found himself at the back corner of the shed where he spotted reddish brown goo oozing down the walls. Brenner heard his colleagues join him in shed and gathered around to see the unusual find.
"Extraordinary."
¤ ¤ ¤
"Ready are you? What knows you of ready?" Mike spoke in a voice that was supposed be Yoda's.
Mike had been showing her his room; he was now showing her all of his toys. El is giving him strange looks at his unusual voice. He continues in his normal voice.
"His name is Yoda. He can use the Force to move things with his mind, like this." Mike then quickly shoves all of toys off the table.
"Whoosh!"
Eleven looks around and all sorts of items she had never seen before on Mike's dresser. Mike, had now moved on to his favorite dinosaur toy.
"This is my dinosaur, Rory. Look, he has a speaker in his mouth so he can roar." He turns to show her, only to realize she was now by his dresser and was looking closely at everything in curiosity. He put down Rory and joined her.
Eleven took note of all the things before her; what appeared to be a shiny gold woman with wings and many other figurines like it that stood on wooden platforms.
"Oh, these are all my science fair trophies. We got first every year. Except for last year when we got third. Mr. Clarke said it was totally political."
El smiled at one of the trophies that read "HAWKINS MIDDLE SCHOOL TEAM PROBLEM SOLVING CHAMPIONS", next to it a picture with five kids all holding a large trophy. El recognized everyone. She smiled when she saw the only girl, [Y/N]. She was standing in the middle, one hand holding the trophy, the other one was behind a smiling boy, two of her fingers sticking up making it look like the boy had bunny ears.
El's smile fell when it dawned on her that she recognized the boy. She gasped silently, her mouth agape. Mike took note of this and watched her carefully as she slowly brought her finger to the picture. Mike watched as finger landed on his missing friend.
He looked back at her in shock. "You know Will?" She didn't say anything, her mouth still open and a very concerned look on her face.
"Did you see him? Last night? On the road?"
Before she could say anything, the loud noise of halting vehicle broke the silence. Mike quickly ran to window in a panic, his mom was pulling up the driveway.
He ran back over to El.
"We gotta go."
He grabs her hand yanks open his bedroom door, dragging her down the steps. He halts at the landing of stairs, staring in horror as his mom is at the front door, closing it behind her. Her youngest, Holly was in her arms, and so was her groceries. Before she could see anything, Mike ran back upstairs with El, as quickly and quietly as possible.
Karen Wheeler stopped in her tracks when she thought she heard someone upstairs.
"Ted? Is that you?" She calls out.
"Just me mom!" Mike yelled out frantically as he ran through the hallway.
"Mike? What are you doing home?"
"One second!" He brought El back into his room and lead her to his closet, not before closing his bedroom door.
"In here. I'll be right back, okay?" Mike instructed, slightly out of breath.
El stood rooted in place, fear in her eyes.
But Mike was frantic. "Please, you have to get in, or my mom, she'll find you. Do you understand?" El only looked at the closet, then back at Mike.
"I won't tell her about you. I promise."
"Promise?" She asked, clearly confused.
"It means something that you can't break. Ever." He explained quickly.
"Michael?" Mike's mom could be heard from downstairs.
They both looked to the door, then back at each other. "Please?" Mike pleaded.
El looks between Mike and the closet, unsure before walking inside, and turning to Mike. He quickly closed the door and she began to back up further into the closet, panic setting in.
[FLASHBACK]
"Pop!"
Eleven struggles to break free from the men's hold as they carry her by her arms down, back into the room.
Sobs track her body as she uses all her strength to turn and look back at Papa.
"Papa!" He steps out into the hallway and remains standing, doing nothing to help her, yet she still calls for him.
"Papa! No!" She screams her throat raw and her legs never stop kicking.
"Papa!"
They round the corner and at the end of the short hallway lays the dreaded room. The cold unwelcoming florescent light floods from the open door. Her resistance becomes stronger, and more violent.
"No! No! No!"
Her screams become incoherent when the two men chuck her to the ground, she scrambles to feet in attempt to stop the copper door from closing. Alas, she is too late for the steel door had slammed shut before her.
"Papa!" She yelled, slamming her palms against the cold copper.
"Papa!" She tries banging her fists, but to no avail.
"Papa! Papa! Papa!" Her screams turn to sobs.
"Papa."
She backs away from the door, and retreats to the corner of the very small room where she tucked herself into the corner of the wall and slides down until she is curled up in a ball on the ice cold tile floor.
"Papa." She whimpers quietly.
[END OF FLASHBACK]
Eleven backs up until her back hits the wall and slides down till she is sitting on Mike's floor. She hugs her knees to her chest and sobs.
¤ ¤ ¤
"I just... I don't feel good." Mike was sat, hands folded together on his couch with his mother. He was giving her a false excuse of why he was at home during a school day.
"I woke up and my head, it really hurt bad, and my throat was all scratchy, and I wanted to tell you, but the last Tim's I told you I was sick you made me go to school anyway, and--"
"Michael."
"Yeah?"
"I'm not mad at you."
Mike was surprised to hear this from his mother.
"No?"
"No, of course not." She adjusted herself so that she was closer to her son, grabbed his hand in her's and sighed.
"All this that's been going on with Will, I can't imagine what it's been like for you."
Mike looks down to his lap, taking it in. No one had asked how he was doing with his best friend missing. It was hard. The whole party was worried. He never considered that and it was... refreshing to hear that his mother understood. He looked back at his mother as she continued.
"I just... I want you to feel like you can talk to me. I never want you to feel like you have to hide anything from me. I'm here for you. Okay?"
He nods his head. They both look up when they hear a soft thud from upstairs.
"Is there someone else here?" She asks.
Michael considers what his mom just told him. "No."
"Huh. Weird. Hey by the way, did you do something to my plant out front? It looks amazing!"
"Oh, that? Um, well, no that was [Y/N]."
"Really? Wow! That's incredible, she needs to tell me her secret. I could really use her help! Say, speaking of [Y/N]" she nudged her son, a teasing smirk on her face. "Anything going on between you too? Do you like her? Does she like you?" She asked, getting more excited with each question.
Mike's face scrunched up. "Ugh! Mom! She's just a friend! She's, like... my sister! How many times do I have to say that?" He whines.
"You're right, you're right! I'm sorry, my bad." She throws her hands up in surrender. "It's just... you two would be so cute toge--"
Mike stands up from the couch quickly. "Mom!" He interrupts, then sighs. "Thank you for understanding and letting me stay home, it means a lot, really. But I should probably go upstairs now and lay down, okay? Okay. Bye." He runs upstairs before she can respond, leaving her sitting on the couch, in confusion.
"...Okay." she says to no one in particular.
¤ ¤ ¤
Mike practically throws open his bedroom door, making sure to lock it once he closed his door.
"Eleven?"
He walks quickly towards the closet.
"Is everything okay? El?" He asked, quickly opening up his closet to find her curled up in a ball on the floor, her cheeks stained with tears.
"Mike." She stares in relief.
"Is everything okay?"
She can't help but gasp ever so slightly at his kindness. She quickly nods her head.
"Are you sure?"
She smiles and nods her head. "Promise."
Everything was okay now that Mike was back.
¤ ¤ ¤
Joyce slams the cardboard box on the table, and scrambles to open it as quickly as she can. She unraveled the phone first and then picks grabs the receiver from the bottom. She connects the phone to the reciever and then plugs the reciever into wall where her old phone was. She brought the phone up to hear of was connected, sure enough she heard the familiar dial tone on the other end.
She tried take a seat in the arm chair in the living room on to be stopped short on account of the short cord. With one hand holding the phone, she reached her free arm out and pulled the chair closer before turning it around and taking a seat in it, and using her feet to scoot the chair closer to the wall.
She remained seated and waited patiently, desperately hoping that her son would contact her again.
¤ ¤ ¤
"Will Byers!"
"Will!"
Many voices ring through the air as the dozens of volunteers search high and low for missing boy.
"Woah, woah. Careful, careful." Hopper and officer Callahan were standing on a large boulder near the edge of the cliff, Hopper reached out, beckoning his officer to step away from the edge he was peering over.
"I need you alive for the next few days at least."
"Oh, hell, I could survive that."
Hopper only laughs.
"What? George Burness made the jump." Callahan said defensively. "And he was drunk as a skunk. He did it on a $10 bet."
"George is a liar. You make that jump from this height, that water turns into cement." Hopper smacks his palms together, imitating a splat noise. "Hits you like a ton of bricks. Break every damn bone in you're body."
Callahan looks down and the water and then back at Hopper awkwardly. "Nah."
"Chief, you copy?" Hopper's radio crackles at the sound of his secretary's voice. He grabs the radio from his belt and responds. "Yeah, Flo, talk to me."
"Hey, Chief, we got a call from over at Benny's. I think you need to get there right away."
¤ ¤ ¤
Hopper, Powell and Callahan enter the infamous local diner and take a look around. They immediately notice the hunched over body of Benny Hammond, sat down at one of his tables, flies buzzing over his body and a bullet hole on the right side of his temple. A small gun in his right hand as well. Crimson blood, flowed into a puddle on the table.
"Ugh, Jesus!" Callahan exclaimed, putting a hand to his nose.
"Suicide?" Powell asked, shocked that Benny Hammond of all people would resort to suicide.
"Mmm-hmm." Hopper hummed, just as shocked as his officer.
"Missing kid, suicide..." Callahan began. "You must feel like a big city again, huh, Chief?"
Hopper shifted on his feet. "Well, I mostly dealt with strangers back then. Benny was my friend." He said solemnly.
There was silence, a side from the uncomfortable buzzing of the flies.
¤ ¤ ¤
Jonathan drives along the unfamiliar road slowly, looking for his father's house. He pulls the car to a stop and exits the car. Biting his lip, he walks up the steps to the porch and once he reaches the door he peers through the small diamond shaped window for any signs of life.
However, all he can hear is the faint hum of music. Be knocks on the door five times and shouts, "Hello?"
He knock again, he hears a soft but annoyed voice come from inside. "Yeah."
He sees a young woman storm towards the door, clearly annoyed by the unexpected visitor.
She throws open the door and with a mouth full of chewing gum she rudely asks him. "Can I help you?"
"Yeah, is Lonnie around."
"Yeah, he's out back. What do you want?"
"To look around." He says, walking past her.
"Hey, what do you think you're doing? Hey!"
"I'll be fast."
Jonathan storms through the house quickly. Looking through every door he can find.
"Hey, Will?"
"Will?"
"Will!"
He goes to open another door but it's locked. He pounds on the door.
"Will, you here? Will!"
He peers through a different door and finds yet another empty room. He heads back out into the hallway, he is caught completely off guard when he feels a sudden powerful force shove him into the wall.
He realizes it's none other than his deadbeat father, who was still holding him by the collar of his shirt. He reeked of booze.
"Get off!" It was his father's turn to be caught off guard when he shoved his father back with just as much force.
"Damn, you've gotten stronger."
"Will someone please explain what the hell is going on." Cynthia stands at the end of the hallway, her arms up with a questioning glance.
"Jonathan, Cynthia. Cynthia, this is Jonathan. My oldest." Lonnie explains, still slightly out of breath.
Lonnie straightens out Jonathan's collar and pulls him in for a hug.
"Come here."
"Get off me, man." Jonathan says, shoving his father off of him.
||Reader's POV||
Lucas, Dustin and I were biked to Mike's house to meet him there. Once we got there, he quickly rushed us up to his room. El was sitting on Mike's bed, a blanket on her legs. I remain standing next to The boys, but I give El a smile and a wave. She timidly smiles and waves back.
"Are you out of your mind?" Lucas argued.
"Just listen to me." Mike began.
"You are out of your mind!"
"She knows about Will."
My head snaps up at the mention of him and my breathe hitches. "What?" I quickly look to El and then back at Mike, my eyes white.
"What do you mean she knows about Will?" Dustin asks for me.
Mike took a few steps towards his dresser and picked up the picture of all five of us at the science fair.
"She pointed at him, at his picture. She knew he was missing. I could tell."
"You could tell?"
"Just think about it. Do you really think it was a coincidence that we found her on Mirkwood, the same place that Will disappeared?"
"That is weird." Dustin agreed.
I turned and slowly walked over to El, cautiously taking a seat next to her, but still giving her enough space. "Is that true?" I ask in a gentle whisper. She looked me in the eye and gulped, and ever so slightly nodded her head 'yes'.
I chuckle in disbelief and look at the boys hopefully.
"And she said bad people are after her. I think that maybe these bad people are the same ones who took Will."
"Guys, think about it. I think he's right. I think she might know what happened to him." I speak up, hope in my voice.
"Then why doesn't she tell us?"
"Well maybe she's scared of you two!" I accuse.
"Why should she be scared? I'm tired of this." He walks straight over to her and starts raising his voice.
"Do you know where he is?"
"Lucas..." I warn, my hands subconsciously ball into a fist in anger.
Suddenly he grabs her by the shoulders, shaking her and begins yelling in her face. "Do you know where Will is?"
"LUCAS!" I bark, standing up immediately, and rip his arms of her, she's cowering in fear. "Dammit man, get your hands off of her! And you wonder why she's scared!" I scoff, crossing my arms.
"She should be scared! If you know where he is, tell us!" She doesn't say anything and she bites her lip trying not to cry. "Lucas! Listen to me. I know you're scared and worried about Will, okay? We all are," my eyes are tearing up as well, a lump forming in my throat as I continue. "but we have to be patient okay? She's scared, she's lost, she probably doesn't know who to trust, we just need to be kind to her alright?" I plead.
"Ya know what, no. There's no time. This is nuts. We have to take her to your mom." He says turning back to Mike.
"No! Eleven said telling any adult would put us in danger." Mike argues.
For the first time in a while, Dustin spoke up, his voice soft.
"What kind of danger?"
"Her name is Eleven?" Lucas asks.
"El for short." Mike corrected casually.
"Mike, what kind of danger?" Lucas pressed, his voice grew significantly louder.
"Danger danger." Mike yelled back.
I look around, breathing heavily as I take everything in. Mike puts his hand up to my brother's forehead in the shape of a gun. Then the same to Lucas. Lucas swats away Mike's hand almost immediately.
Lucas begins to panic. "No, no, no! We're going back to plan A. We're telling your mom."
I try to grab his arm as stomps towards the door, but he shoves my hand away. He rips open the door, only for the door to be slammed shut all on own it's own, making everything around the room to shake. We all stare at the door in confusion. He tries it again, only for the door to slam shut once more. Then, we all see the lock on the door turn by itself. 'Okay, well... I know I didn't imagine that.'
Simultaneously, we all turn to El to find her standing, blood dripping from her nose giving Lucas quite possibly the sharpest glare I have ever seen.
"No." She states firmly. It's enough to send a chill down my spine.
It's silent for a few moments and I breath out a shocked chuckle. "That... was the coolest thing I have ever seen."
Taglist: @fuckwaad @aimee-lucass
DM me if you want to be added!
#stranger things#stranger things rewrite#will byers#will byers x reader#reader insert#will byers x you
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Everybody Talks | Chapter 4: MadMax
Fandom: Stranger Things
Pairings: Lumax, Mileven
Rating: K
WC: 3227
Summary: Mike and Lucas run into a familiar face at the Palace Arcade
[AO3]
Chapter Selection: [1][2][3]-4-[5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12][13][14][15][Epilogue]
It’s the last Sunday of September. With October just around the corner, the leaves have already begun to turn, transforming Hawkins into a mosaic of orange and red hues. The Indian summer heat has faded away, leaving behind the faint but telltale chill of the season to come.
As Mike waits in the driveway outside Lucas’ house, seated on his bike, he shuffles side-to-side, trying to keep warm. He checks his watch. 11:17 AM. Lucas was supposed to meet him out here 2 minutes ago.
Mike sighs but keeps waiting. Another 3 minutes pass, then another 5, and by 11:26, Mike is about to approach the front door and knock when Lucas emerges, looking thoroughly pissed off.
Mike’s brow furrows. “What happened to you?”
“Erica hid my money!” Lucas fumes. His bike is leaning on the side of his house and he grabs it. He walks it closer to Mike before throwing his leg over the seat and mounting it.
“Why?”
“Because she’s evil!”
“Where’d you find it?”
“It was hidden with her old Barbies!”
“What?!”
“I know!”
“That sucks. Is she gonna get in trouble?”
“Probably not,” Lucas answers with an eye-roll. “Let’s just go.”
Mike nods and the two bike off down the road, headed to their favorite Sunday afternoon destination: the Palace Arcade.
They only bike a couple feet before Lucas’ notices the obvious: two members of their party are missing. “Where’s Will and Dustin?” He asks, glancing at Mike.
Mike thinks back to the telephone calls he’d had to make this morning. “They can’t come — Will is spending the day with his mom and brother,” he recounts, “And Dustin’s cat got sick, so he and his mom are taking it to the vet.”
“Mews is like, a million years old,” Lucas says with a shake of his head. “How is she even still alive?”
“Maybe she’s an immortalist,” Mike jokes, causing Lucas to snort.
The two bike towards the downtown area. On the way there, they pass by the high school football field, where the football team is in the midst of practicing for the big homecoming football game. The frenzied shouts of the coach are still audible over the soft bustle of distant passing cars, echoing bird calls, and the crunch of dead leaves under their bike wheels.
Mike’s father has always wanted him to do sports, but Mike can’t honestly think of anything worse than having to waste a Sunday getting yelled at and throwing around a ball in the cold.
Lucas sees the football players too, and he turns to glance at Mike with a curious look on his face.
“Are we going to Homecoming this year?” Lucas asks. “The dance, I mean, not the game.”
Last year, the boys had skipped the big annual fall dance. Still adjusting to being in high school, they hadn’t quite found their footing yet. A mushy, romantic school dance hadn’t appealed to them, so they’d gone to see Terminator instead.
But this year…
“Maybe,” Mike says. “Why, do you want to?”
“I dunno,” Lucas replies guardedly, “Do you?”
Mike bites down on his lower lip, stopping himself from saying something that’ll only embarrass him. Like, something about how he’s actually been thinking about Homecoming a lot lately. Or how, sometimes, when he’s trying to fall asleep, he’ll run over scenarios in his mind. How those scenarios are often focused on one person, one moment, one question.
The scenarios always end in frustration because Mike knows it’s all pointless, anyway. He barely knows El, and El hardly knows him. Even if they were closer, what’s to say that a cool girl like her would agree to go with a nobody like him? What if she wanted to go with someone else?
The thought jabs at Mike with a stabbing pain as an unsettling question dawns on him.
Does El have a boyfriend?
It’s something he’s never considered before. He’s only ever seen her hanging around with Max, but what if her boyfriend like, went to another school, or something? He’d probably be someone totally bad ass, with like, a motorcycle. Someone who got detention for worse things than selling their test answers.
Mike feels an uncomfortable amount of jealousy churn in his chest, which is ridiculous because, as far as he knows, the person whom he was currently jealous of might not even exist.
“Mike?” Lucas asks, glancing at him. “You okay?”
“Uh, yeah!” Mike responds quickly, shaking his head as he comes back to. “I dunno about Homecoming. We still have a month to decide.”
“Yeah,” Lucas agrees somberly.
They don’t speak much after that, not until they arrive at the arcade. Their legs are sore from biking — both wince slightly as they dismount the bikes that are getting slightly too small for them.
“I can’t wait until we can drive,” Lucas laments as the two park their bikes at the bike rack.
Mike, thinking back to El’s motorcycle-driving boyfriend who may or may not exist, agrees wholeheartedly. “Totally. We’re all still taking driver’s ed together next summer, right?”
“Definitely!” Lucas nods. “It’ll be better that way.”
Because everything’s better when they’re all together. Mike, Lucas, Dustin and Will. It’s been that way ever since kindergarten, just the four of them. But now that they’re in high school, things are changing. Mike thinks about how tense things have been with Dustin lately and can’t help but worry.
“Hey, Lucas?” Mike asks as he and Lucas head towards the entrance of the Palace Arcade.
“Yeah?”
“Do you think Dustin is seriously pissed at me?”
“What?”
“You know,” Mike hesitates, “About talking to El.”
“Even if he is, that’s his problem,” Lucas reminds him. “I think he’s just weirded out by the whole thing, so he’s acting like a shithead about it. He’ll get over it.”
“Yeah,” Mike replies, sincerely hoping that Lucas is right.
They enter the arcade, instantly feeling welcomed by the flickering neon blue lights, the sounds of 8-bit chiptunes, and the smell of old quarters.
“Let’s start with Galaga first!” Mike suggests, and Lucas agrees.
The two head over to the game console. Lucas benevolently allows Mike to go first, and so he does, cracking his fingers before he begins.
Even though the rest of Mike’s life has been kinda weird lately, there’s something comforting about just getting to push it all aside and focus on the simple task of shooting up some aliens. It’s familiar, it’s easy, it makes sense, and he knows exactly what to do about it all.
Unfortunately, Mike’s mindless daze doesn’t last long, as Lucas finds a way to bring a certain someone back into their dialogue.
“So, are you going to keep talking to El?” Lucas asks conversationally.
Mike flinches, almost missing the alien he’s trying to shoot at. “I dunno,” he says, trying to sound like the idea of spending time with El isn’t something he’s secretly dying to happen, “Maybe. I mean, if she wanted to. Are you going to keep talking to Max?”
Lucas smiles a little and shakes his head. “I think if I tried, I’d end up in the hospital,” he jokes, rubbing at his arm.
Mike makes a dismissive sort of sound. “Does it actually bother you? All the punching?” He glances at Lucas just in time to see him blush.
“Not completely,” Lucas admits.
Mike gives a snort of a laugh as he finishes his round of Galaga. “400,000!” He boasts, turning to Lucas. “I think that means I beat Dustin for first place!”
“Think again!” Lucas says, shaking his head.
Mike’s brow furrows in confusion, but sure enough, when he turns to look at the final scoreboard, he’s only won second place. Ranking in at first with 450,000 points is someone unknown to the boys: MadMax
“What the hell?” Mike exclaims, dumbfounded, “Who’s MadMax?”
“I think I recognize them,” Lucas frowns. He examines the screen closely, as if the secret identity of their competitor could be found hidden amongst the pixels. “I’ve seen that username on the leaderboards of other games here, but not this high!”
“Dustin’s gonna be pissed,” Mike says, trying to hide that he too is upset about the current turn of events, “He’s all the way in third place now!”
“This has to be recent! We were at the arcade Friday before we went back to your house. Dustin still had the high score then.”
“You’re right.”
The boys fall silent for a moment, both staring at the screen with puzzled frowns.
“We gotta find out who MadMax is,” Lucas finally says, “Maybe he can tell us how he got such a high score!”
“Good idea!” Mike agrees.
The two begin their search, going from arcade game to arcade game, checking out the leaderboard screens to see if MadMax played there. Sure enough, they stumble upon a trail of high scores that lead them towards the back of the arcade.
They scan the sea of game consoles before their gaze lands on Dig-Dug. There’s a lone figure hunched over the console, sporting a baggy gray hoodie and washed-out jeans. The spritely sound effects of the game are going off like crazy as the player’s score climbs higher and higher. Pale fingers move at lightning speed, flying over the controls in a determined focus.
“That’s gotta be him,” Mike whispers, to which Lucas nods. “Look at how fast he’s going!”
“Should we go over?” Lucas asks.
Mike shrugs. “Sure.”
The two approach the figure cautiously, not wanting to disturb the powerful gaming performance happening before their eyes.
When the final score tops out at 751,300, the boys are shocked, to say the least.
“Holy shit!” Lucas hisses, turning to glance at Mike, wide-eyed.
Mike only nods back, feeling just as awed. He clears his throat before stepping forward and giving the hoodied figure a nudge on the shoulder. “Hey!” He says with a friendly tone, “Are you Mad Max? ‘Cause you’re like, really good!”
The figure flinches, as if Mike had startled them, but doesn’t turn to look at them.
“We were just wondering if you could tell us how you get all these high scores,” Lucas adds hopefully, “I’ve never seen someone get more than 700,000 on Dig-Dug!”
The figure mutters something unintelligible in response.
Mike frowns. “What?” He asks, stepping closer.
Another mutter.
“Huh?”
With a frustrated huff, the hoodied individual turns to face them. At the same time, Mike and Lucas’ jaws nearly drop to the floor.
They almost don’t recognize her. Her black eyeshadow is gone, leaving her face looking almost ghostly in comparison. Her long, often tangled hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail that’s hidden by her hood.
Despite the costume change, Mike and Lucas still realize that they’re currently face-to-face with none other than Max Mayfield.
Max Mayfield, a habitual visitor of the principal’s office.
Max Mayfield, who liked wearing leather jackets and ripped jeans.
Max Mayfield, who skateboarded to school every day.
Max Mayfield, who, a little over a week ago, had called them all ‘literal losers’ and ‘full-on geeks.’
Mike can’t help it. The irony of the whole situation is extremely amusing to him. He bursts out laughing, even though it instantly causes Max to give him a death glare.
“Max?!” Lucas manages to choke out, still looking shocked, “You’re Mad Max?!”
Max, still glaring, crosses her arms over her chest. “So what if I am?” She asks threateningly.
Mike manages to control his laughter, though only barely. “It’s just,” He finally replies, “I don’t think we would have ever thought you’d be here.”
“We didn’t know you liked video games!” Lucas adds, completely in awe. “Or that you were amazing at them!”
Max shifts in place uncomfortably. “It’s no big deal,” she mutters, though Mike can’t help but notice the small smile she’s failing to hide.
“It is!” Lucas insists, practically drooling now, “You beat Dustin’s high score on Galaga, he’s been number one since middle school!”
Max smirks. “Seriously? It wasn’t even hard.”
While Lucas continues to adoringly gaze at Max, Mike can’t help but glance around the arcade. If Max is here, then her best friend can’t be that far behind, right?
“Is El with you?” Mike asks Max casually (hopefully).
“No!” Max answers brashly, brow furrowing, “She can’t know about this!”
Mike feels his heart sink a little, but he brushes it off. Meanwhile, Lucas is looking confused over Max’s response.
Lucas eyes her. “You mean, you haven’t told her?”
“I can’t!” Max says desperately, “I don’t want her to think I’m a geek like you guys,” she pauses, then adds, “No offense.”
“Thanks,” Mike replies flatly.
“Look,” Max continues. She steps closer to them, keeping her voice low. “I have to work really hard to keep up my reputation around school. Do you know how much my life would suck if people like Troy found out that I like nerdy stuff like this? I’d be totally screwed. No one would take me seriously.”
“Still!” Mike counters, “Even if that’s true, you shouldn’t lie to El. She’s your friend, isn’t she?”
“Obviously.”
“Well, friends don’t keep secrets from each other. And I doubt El would make fun of you for doing something that you like.”
Max eyes him carefully, scrutinizing his response.
“She didn’t make fun of me for liking this kind of stuff,” Mike reminds her.
“Yeah, but that’s only because she—” Max stops mid-sentence and shakes her head. “Never mind.”
“You should be proud!” Lucas tells her, butting in before Mike can pry about what Max had left unsaid. “You have crazy good skills! You should tell her!”
Max sighs, looking both frustrated and conflicted. Her eyes roll up to the ceiling and stay there for a moment. “Fine!” She finally replies, looking back at the guys, “Maybe I’ll tell her. But only her. If this gets out to anyone—”
“It won’t!” Lucas assures her, smiling. “I swear! We’re really good at keeping secrets!”
Mike can’t help but side-eye Lucas. If Dustin had thought that Mike was totally in love with El (which he WASN’T, just for the record), he would only need to look at Lucas right now — all smiles and bright-eyes and blushing cheeks.
Max eyes both of them but nods, her worries seemingly appeased for the time being. “Good,” she states, uncrossing her arms and putting them in her pockets.
There’s a beat of silence between the trio, all unsure of what to do next.
Thankfully, Lucas speaks up again with a tentative offer. “Well, uh, if you want, we could, like…uh, play together? Maybe you could…uh…show us how you got…uh…your high, uh, score?”
Mike is certain that he’s never heard anyone use “uh” more in a sentence before. Nevertheless, he knows how much this would mean to Lucas, as much as Lucas may try to deny it.
“Yeah!” Mike says, rushing to Lucas’ aid. “We could do Defender or Dragon’s Lair — we’re both really good at those.”
“I don’t think so,” Max says, shaking her head dismissively. “I’ve already been here all morning. I got places to be.”
She looks nervous, and at first it confuses Mike, but then he realizes that Max Mayfield is blushing. Why? Was she shy? Could it actually be because of Lucas? Maybe Will’s theory was actually right…
“Oh,” Lucas replies, looking a little dejected.
“Thanks anyway, though,” Max adds, sounding sincere.
“You’re welcome!” Lucas replies with more enthusiasm. “We’re gonna be here all day, if you, uh, wanna come back.”
“You seriously play here all day?” Max questions, a small smirk on her face.
Lucas hesitates. “...Yes?”
“You guys are such nerds,” Max says with an eye-roll, though her tone is light-hearted.
“Well, you kind of are, too,” Lucas points out, “I mean —” His sentence trails off as he motions to the arcade.
Max blushes more now, and it’s such an uncharacteristic look for her that Mike is completely taken aback to see it.
“Whatever,” Max replies, pulling her hood lower over her face. She grabs her skateboard, which has been resting against the Dig-Dug console this entire time, and turns to leave.
“See ya’ around, dweebs,” She says, punching Lucas in the arm as she walks past.
“Bye!” Lucas replies eagerly, waving to her as she leaves.
Mike can’t help but smile at Lucas, and it isn’t until Max walks out the front doors of the arcade that Lucas even notices.
“What?” He asks, looking at Mike defensively.
“Nothing!” Mike replies, still grinning.
“Mike, seriously,” Lucas complains, giving him a look.
“It’s seriously nothing,” Mike insists, then, unable to help himself, lightly punches Lucas in the arm, “Dweeb.”
Lucas blushes again. His gaze moves back to the Dig-Dug high score screen, and he sighs wistfully. “She’s so cool.”
“You should ask her to Homecoming,” Mike says sincerely.
Lucas eyes him. “I’ll ask Max to Homecoming when you ask El,” He replies dryly.
It’s Mike’s turn to blush now. “What!?”
“Exactly.”
“Exactly what?”
“Face it, Mike, even though he’s an idiot sometimes, Dustin has a point. Girls like that aren’t into guys like us.”
“You don’t know that!” Mike insists, “Anything could happen!”
“Just because it could doesn’t mean it will.”
“Doesn’t mean that it won’t.”
Lucas still looks unsure, but he sighs again, seemingly compliant. “I guess. I just don’t wanna get my hopes up, you know?”
He definitely knows. As supportive as Mike wants to be, he knows deep down that, if the tables were turned, the same sentiments wouldn’t improve how he felt about his current status with El. Still, Mike doesn’t want to dwell on his insecurities for too long, that’ll only make things worse.
“Hey,” he says instead, giving Lucas a light nudge, “Why don’t we try to beat Max’s score on Dig-Dug?”
Lucas looks at him, stunned. “Are you serious? That’s going to be impossible.”
“Yeah, but imagine how impressed she’d be,” Mike pauses before adding, “Or pissed. She might get mad. But even then, she’ll have to come back and play again to beat you. You’d get to see her, probably even talk to her.”
Lucas thinks about this for a moment, a hesitant smile growing on his face. “Do you think that’d actually work?”
Mike shrugs. “Why not?”
And that’s how, 35 quarters and 2 hours later, Lucas gets the high score of 752,001 on Dig-Dug. Mike cheers him on the whole time, and when Lucas enters his name into the leaderboard, seeing it beside Max’s just feels right.
#mileven#mileven fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#berrie fics#*#lumax#lumax fanfiction#miss-sad-marshmallow#lovecolesprouse#wrongirish#everybodytalks
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Truth Revealed (Dead in the Water S1, Ep3, Pt3)
Supernatural Season 1 Episode 3 Part 3
Warnings: Minor character death.
Words: 3,342
Masterlist
“Sam, Dean, Y/n.” Andrea breathes once she sees the three of you including her father, enter her home. She stood up and placed a bag and a container on the chair she was sitting on. She had a surprised look on her face with a bit of confusion. “I didn't expect to see you here.” You and the boys were in the police station.
“So now you're on a first-name basis. What are you doing here?” Her father replied as he walked towards his chair and sat down.
“I brought you dinner.” She said, pointing to the container, the stern look on Jake’s face melted into a gentle expression.
“I'm sorry, sweetheart, I don't really have the time.” He replied, frowning a bit at his answer.
“I heard about Bill Carlton. Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?” Andrea couldn’t help but question everything she had been hearing throughout town. Gossip and rumors spread like wildfire. Her father sighs and leans back in his chair, rubbing a hand down his tired features.
“Right now we don't know what the truth is. But I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home.” Lucas whining caught yours and the brothers attention, he jumped up from his chair and tugged on the sleeve of your coat with a stricken face. He looked panicked.
“Hey buddy” You say, grabbing his hand “It’s okay” You soothed, a reassuring smile on your face “It’s okay, Lucas.” Andrea pulled Lucas away from you before leading him outside, the whole time Lucas didn’t break eye contact with you until the door closed. Jake took off his jacket and gestured to the seats in front of you like the day before.
“Okay, just so I'm clear, you see...something attack Bill's boat, sending Bill—who is a very good swimmer, by the way—into the drink, and you never see him again?” Jake asked, he looked up from his desk and stared at each of you with a poker face. Dean glanced at you and Sam before returning his eyes to the sheriff.
“Yeah, that about sums it up.” Dean breathes, the three of you refused to sit down.
“And I'm supposed to believe this, even though I've already sonar-swept that entire lake? And what you're describing is impossible? And you're not really Wildlife Service?” You and Dean stared at the man with surprise. “That's right, I checked. Department's never heard of you two.” He leaned forward, placing his hands on his desk.
“See, now, we can explain that.” Dean offered, you rolled your eyes. How are you going to get out of this one?
“Enough. Please.” Jake sighed, he looked down at his desk before locking eyes with each of you for a few seconds and then shifting to the next person. “The only reason you're breathing free air is one of Bill's neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did. So, we have a couple of options here. I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton's disappearance. Or, we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you get into your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don't ever darken my doorstep again.”
“Door number two sounds good.” You and Sam say in sync, a small smile on your face.
“That's the one I'd pick.” Jake smiles.
***
After you grabbed your bags and checked out of the motel room and drove far enough out of town, Dean stopped at an intersection. The light was green and there were no cars coming either way, none was behind you. You looked into the rearview mirror with a questioning gaze, Dean stared straight ahead and tapped his fingers on the wheel.
“Green.” Sam says, Dean glances at his brother with confusion.
“What?” Dean says, he blinks and shifts his attention when his brother gestured to the traffic light.
“Light's green.” Sam says, Dean stares at it for a moment or two without looking away.
“You know” You say, Sam shifts in his seat as he waited for his brother to press on the gas and leave the town in the rearview mirror. “Something doesn’t seem right.” You had a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach, the mystery of the case wasn’t solved and whatever was in that lake was obviously dangerous; it won’t stop until it gets what it wants or you kill it. “Nothing seems right about this case actually, it’s targeting specific people, not random.” Dean bites his lip unconsciously as he listens to what you have to say before he finally made the decision to turn right, back to town.
“Uh, the interstate's the other way.” Sam says, you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You were relieved of Dean’s choice.
“I know.” Dean replied, you leaned forward, putting your arms on the front seat.
“But Dean, this job, I think it's over.” Sam looks at his brother with more confusion etched onto his face. You shake your head.
“I’m not so sure about that” You say “I don’t think it’s over at all.”
“If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest.” Sam says, shifting his body so he could look at the both of you, his back rested against the door.
“All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done? You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt?” Dean asks, he glanced at his brother before his eyes returned to the road, you nod your head in agreement.
“I have a feeling it’s not over Sammy.” You say, he rolls his eyes at the way you said his name.
“But why would you think that?” Sam asks, Dean doesn’t look at him.
“Because Lucas was really scared.”
“That's what this is about?” You bit your lip at Sam’s question.
“I just don't want to leave this town until I know the kid's okay.” Dean replies, you nod.
“Me too.” You add “He seemed really scared and it has to be related to our case, with all the clues he gave us...there’s not doubt about it.” Sam sighs and turns back in the seat so he’s facing the windshield.
“Who are you? And what have you done with my brother?” Sam jokes, you roll your eyes before a smile settled on your face as Dean glances at his brother.
“Shut up.”
***
The Impala pulled in front of Andrea’s house, all the lights were off and it seemed eerily calm. Your eyes scanned the two story house, each window contained a dark room behind it. You looked at the driveway, Andrea’s car was in it. You exit the car with the boys following behind as you made your way up the steps.
“Are you sure about this? It's pretty late, man.” Sam says, you rung the doorbell and not a second after that, Lucas opened the door with a terrified expression of his face.
“Sweetie are you okay?” You ask, right after the words left your mouth Lucas took off into his house. Without any hesitation, you ran after him. You ran up the steps with the brothers on your tail, water squelched beneath your shoes as you made your way up. With the help of the moonlight coming through the windows, you saw water rushing through the crack of the door as Lucas pounded on it. You moved the boy aside as you watched Sam kick the door in before running into the bathroom. Lucas buried his face into your side as his hand clutched tightly onto your shirt. You ran your hand through his hair as you watched Sam reach into the tub and try to pull Andrea out. Whatever made her like this wouldn’t let go. With one final tug, Sam brought Andrea out of the tub. She gasped for air before coughing, your muscles relaxed and a sigh of relief escaped you as you watched her cough water out of her lungs.
***
Hours after returning to the town and saving Andrea, dawn broke over the horizon and birds sung like nothing happened earlier. You sat on the couch in the living room as Andrea sat across from you. Her hair was dry and she wore comfortable clothing but yet her hands still shook from the event. Dean looked through journals on bookshelves for answers as Sam sat next to you.
“Can you tell us?” Sam asked, Andrea shook her head as tears threatened to fall.
“No.” She replied before she buried her face in her hands “It doesn't make any sense.” Her voice cracked. “I'm going crazy.” A sob escaped her.
“No, you're not.” You reassured “Tell us what happened. Everything.” She slowly looked up, her eyes were red as tears trailed down her cheeks.
“I heard…” She started before cutting herself off with a shake of her head “I thought I heard...there was this voice.”
“What did it say?” Sam asked, she looked between the two of you before gulping.
“It said...it said 'come play with me'.” Another sob erupts from her throat as she placed her head in her hands. “What's happening?” You glanced away from her and watched Dean pull a scrapbook of off the shelf and flips through it. He pulls out a square photo and closes it before walking towards the three out you and sitting down.
“Do you recognize the kids in these pictures?” Dean asks, Andrea looks down at the boy scout photo before looking back up with confusion.
“What? Um, um, no. I mean, except that's my dad right there. He must have been about twelve in these pictures.” She points to a different picture of Jake as a child, he stood next to Peter. You and the brothers glanced at one another.
“Chris Barr's drowning.” You say, your eyes were on the photo. “The connection wasn't to Bill Carlton. It must have been to the sheriff.”
“Bill and the sheriff—they were both involved with Peter.” Sam says, he looks at you before shifting his eyes back to the picture.
“What about Chris? My dad—what are you talking about?” Andrea asks with confusion, she shakes her head softly. You look around for the little boy, once your eyes spotted him, you relaxed a bit. Lucas stared out the window.
“Lucas?” You asked, slowly standing up. “Lucas, what is it?” He doesn’t look at you as he opened the door next to the window and walked out into his backyard. You followed him as the others trailed behind you.
“Lucas, honey?” Andrea said, you followed him to the edge of his yard and watched as he looked at the ground and to you. Your eyes trailed to the ground, something glinted in the sun.
“You and Lucas get back to the house and stay there, okay?” You say, shifting your attention to Andrea. She nods and pulls back Lucas without question. You sigh as you listen to the brothers walk away and come back a few minutes later with shelves. You step back and watch as the two of them dig, not long later Sam’s shovel hit something metal. You crouched and dug with your hands until you pulled out a red bicycle.
“Wow.” You say at the same time as Sam said: “Peter's bike.”
“Who are you?” You turn around at the same time as the brothers did and spotted Jake pointing a gun at the three of you.
“Put the gun down, Jake.” Sam said, the brothers dropped their shovels before the three of you raised your hands in the air.
“How did you know that was there?” Jake questions, you lick your lips.
“What happened?” You ask, gesturing to the gun with your chin “You and Bill killed Peter, drowned him in the lake and then buried the bike?”
“You can't bury the truth, Jake. Nothing stays buried.” Dean says as Andrea walked out of her house. Her eyes widened at the sight of her father pointing the gun at you three.
“Go to your room, sweetie. Now. Lock the door and wait for me. Don't come out.” Andrea turned around to her son standing in the doorway before she walked closer to you.
“I don't know what the hell you're talking about.” Jake says, you roll your eyes despite the situation you’re in.
“You and Bill killed Peter Sweeney thirty-five years ago. That's what the hell I'm talking about.” Dean says, Jake points the gun at him as Andrea picked up her pace from walking to running.
“Dad!” She yelled.
“And now you got one seriously pissed-off spirit.” You say.
“It's gonna take Andrea, Lucas, everyone you love. It's gonna drown them. And it's gonna drag their bodies God knows where, so you can feel the same pain Peter's mom felt. And then, after that, it's gonna take you, and it's not gonna stop until it does.” Sam says, Jake shifts the gun to Sam.
“Yeah, and how do you know that?” Jake raises an eyebrow.
“Because that's exactly what it did to Bill Carlton.” You say, he points the gun at you now.
“Listen to yourselves, both of you. You're insane.” Jake laughs.
“I don't really give a rat's ass what you think of us. But if we're gonna bring down this spirit, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them into dust. Now tell me you buried Peter somewhere. Tell me you didn't just let him go in the lake.” Dean says, you glanced to the house, Lucas watched the scene unfold from his bedroom window.
“Dad, is any of this true?” Andrea asked, she took a step toward her father.
“No. Don't listen to them. They're liars and they're dangerous.” Jake glances at his daughter before his eyes quickly returned to the three of you.
“Something tried to drown me. Chris died on that lake. Dad, look at me.” Andrea says, Jake turns to her. “Tell me you—you didn't kill anyone.” He visibly swallowed before looking away. “Oh my God.” She breathes, a sob escaped her as she clasped her hand over her mouth.
“Billy and I were at the lake. Peter was the smallest one. We always bullied him, but this time, it got rough. We were holding his head under the water. We didn't mean to. But we held him under too long and he drowned. We let the body go, and it sank.” Dean glanced at you and his brother, your eyes were trained on the gun. “Oh, Andrea, we were kids. We were so scared. It was a mistake. But, Andrea, to say that I have anything to do with these drownings, with Chris, because of some ghost? It's not rational.”
“All right” You breathed before saying louder: “listen to me, all of you. We need to get you away from this lake, as far as we can, right now.” Andrea turns to look at the lake before a gasp escaped her mouth. You, Jake, and the brothers look at the lake. Lucas walked towards it and onto the dock.
“Lucas!” Jake yelled as all of you ran towards the water, you ran onto the dock with Dean and Sam behind you.
“Lucas!” You yell as you heard a child's voice taunt Lucas, he leaned over the edge as a hand reached up from the water and pulled him in. You take a deep breath as you reached the edge of the dock and dived in. The freezing water chilled you to your bones, your eyes were open and all you saw was dirted water and darkness below you. Swimming up to the surface, you took a deep breath of air before diving down again, muffled yelling was all you heard until you had to break to the surface again.
“Y/n?!” Sam yelled, you took in a deep breath as you heard Dean yell your name.
“No.” You say, but despite the diminishing hope of the sobs that escaped Andreas mouth you dived back under. Please, you thought, please just let me find him. Your lungs burned from the lack of air you were receiving, your body felt freezing cold and black spots began to appear in your vision. You were about to swim back up until your eyes landed on something floating towards you, you swam towards it and once you realized what, or rather who, it was, you grabbed onto the body and went to the surface. You took in a deep breath, Lucas wasn’t moving, your fingertips burned from the hyperthermia spreading throughout your body. On the shore, Andrea was sobbing, her hands covering her mouth and her shoulders were shaking as she stared at the water, Jake was nowhere to be seen.
***
“Look, we're not gonna save everybody.” Sam said as you leaned against the Impala and watched the brothers walk towards you from the motel. Dean sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly.
“I know.” Dean replied, you gave him a soft smile and stood up.
“But we saved who we could.” You say, you turned around and looked at Andrea once you heard her call your name along with the brothers.
“Hey.” Dean smiled at her.
“We're glad we caught you. We just, um, we made you lunch for the road.” Andrea gestured to her son who held a tray of sandwiches. “Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself.” She smiled.
“Can I give it to them now?” Lucas asked, Andrea nodded and watched him hand out the food after she kissed his head.
“Thank you.” You grinned at the young boy.
“Come on, Lucas, let's load this into the car.” Dean said, Lucas followed him to the backseat of the Impala. You looked at Andrea as Sam asked her a question.
“How you holding up?” He asks, you cross your arms to help shield your body from the cool November breeze. Andrea looked down at her shoes for a moment before looking back up.
“It's just gonna take a long time to sort through everything, you know?” She sighs, you look away to something in the distance. You bit your lip and nodded a bit.
“Yeah” You sigh “I do get it, we’re sorry.” You looked at her, she shook her head.
“You saved my son. I can't ask for more than that. Dad loved me. He loved Lucas. No matter what he did, I just have to hold on to that.”
“All right, if you're gonna be talking now, this is a very important phrase, so I want you to repeat it one more time.” Dean says, the three of you turn to look at him. He looked down at Lucas who grinned back at him.
“Zeppelin rules!” Lucas yelled, his eyes were shining as he fist pumped the air.
“That's right. Up high.” Dean high fives the boy, a smile spread across your face at the sight. “You take care of your mom, okay?” Lucas nods as his mother walked to Dean and kissed him.
“Thank you.” She says, you whistle as Dean scratched his head awkwardly. He can't handle women kissing him before he made the first move. He walks around the car to the driver's side and takes the keys out of his pockets.
“Sam, Y/n, move your ass. We're gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road.” Dean says, you roll your eyes and grin at Andrea before giving her a wink. You slide into the back seat after moving the sandwiches, and closed the door behind you. Dean’s rock music blasted throughout the car as you waved goodbye to Andrea and Lucas. Once they were out of sight you turned to look at Dean, the grin was still on your face. He didn’t glance over his shoulder or look in the rearview mirror.
“Saved the kid, got a kiss…and you couldn’t even handle it, Mr. Winchester.”
“Shut up.”
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She’s A Bad Mama Jama Part 3 (Steve Harrington x OC)
Here’s part 3! Hope you all enjoy!! It’s another long one!
Part One Part 2 Part Four
“What do you mean you’re going to hang out with Steve Harrington tonight,” Lucas asked as Val drove him home from school. She glanced down at her cousin before looking back out to the open road. It felt weird to just be able to drive. There was hardly any traffic lights and even the stop signs were few and far between. She did admit that was one plus to this town. She could just cruise and not be in stop and go traffic till the break of dawn.
“We’re working on English Homework. That’s completely different from ‘hanging out’,” Val replied, exasperated at her cousin. She didn’t know why she felt like she had to defend herself in the first place.
“Homework, hanging out, whatever you want to call it. It’s still weird that you’re doing it with Steve Harrington of all people,” Lucas replied. Val sighed, a wave of exhaustion hitting her.
“I don’t get why this is such a big deal! We have class together, we’re working on homework for that class because we sit next to each other and he’s the first person that tried to be my friend. What’s the problem here,” she asked him, her hands clenching and unclenching the wheel as she waited for his answer.
“Because he’s the most popular guy in this town. All the girls want him and all the guys want to be him. And he’s a grade A asshole. He bullied Jonathan Byers and had called Nancy Wheeler a slut when they had first gotten together. There was a huge fight between him and Jonathan at one point too,” Lucas told her. She took a deep breath as she absorbed his words. The image her little cousin painted didn’t match the boy she had met today, but she knew better than anyone that people aren’t always what they seemed.
“Is it not possible that he’s changed? Or haven’t you’ve done or said things that would make you seem like an asshole even though your closest friends and family know you’re not. People put on facade’s all the time to protect themselves,” Val asked him, her brow arching as she watched him digest her words. She always felt surprised when she looked at Lucas. In some ways, he’s grown up so much but then in others, he shows how much of a kid he still is.
“You’re right I guess,” he finally conceded, but his tone told her that he wasn’t happy about it, “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I know,” Val said before placing an arm around his neck to bring his cheek close to her, “You know I love you kid.” She placed a big wet kiss on his cheek, laughing at the way he pretended to squirm away from her. She gave him another kiss before releasing him, laughing at the way he wiped the area she kissed.
“You’ll always be my knight in shining armor Lucas,” Val told him, her voice falling serious. Lucas looked over at her, his face becoming serious as well at her words.
“And you’ll always be my hero Val,” he replied. His words made her choke up a bit. They had always been close despite the distance, writing letters or calling whenever they could. Lately, they’ve fallen by the wayside and she was hoping that moving to the same town would help bring back that closeness that they had before.
“Alright, enough of this sappy shit,” Val exclaimed loudly before turning up the radio, singing obnoxiously along to Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go as it blasted from the speakers. Lucas laughed before joining in with her. Val felt her heart settle with happiness as she finished the drive to his house.
0~0~0~0~0
Steve paced his room with nervousness as he waited for Val to arrive. His mind was still reeling from what he had done earlier that day, kissing her cheek and leaving his address in her locker after asking her over. He was still in love with Nancy, at least he thought he was, but there was just something about Val. The way she talked, the way she walked; all of it intrigued him and made him want to get to know her more. He felt like he was barely touching the surface that was the vast ocean of who she was as a person. It was very different from how he felt about Nancy. He knew that Nancy also had many layers to her as well, but he felt like he just got her instantly whereas Val was definitely a mystery.
His heart skipped a beat when he heard the doorbell rang. His parents weren’t home once again so he wasn’t worried about her meeting them but he still raced down to the front door, excited to see her. He swung the door open and looked at her, a wide smile on his face. She smiled back at him nervously, the scar on her cheek tightening. Seeing the scar again made him feel protective of her suddenly. He wanted to know who hurt her so that he could take revenge for her.
“There she is,” Steve said in a breath, enjoying the confused look that entered her face. Her nose gently scrunched up, her brow furrowed, and he had to bite down the urge to kiss both.
“Here I am,” she replied, “Why did you say it like that though?”
“Why did I say it like what,” Steve asked as he stepped to the side to let her enter through the door.
“Like I’m somebody special,” she told him as she looked around the home. She didn’t see the way his face fell at her words, how his heart broke for her. She didn’t think she was special, but he could tell having known her for a day that she was like no one else, that she was special.
“That’s because you are,” he told her softly, his words making her whirl around. They both stood there for a moment, just looking into each other’s eyes. The energy began to crackle between them and Steve took a step forward, his fingers twitching with the want to touch her. He sucked in a breath when he saw her glance down at his lips, waiting, hoping for her to do it.
“Shall we get started on this homework,” Val asked loudly, trying to break the spell that had fallen over them.
“Oh, yea, sure. My room is this way,” he said, leading her through the main hall to the staircase. Val took a few deep calming breaths, still shaken from the moment before. Even though they had changed the subject the air was still heavy from the electricity that had pulsed between them a moment before.
“Where are your parents,” Val asked, curiously looking around, smiling softly at the family and childhood photos of Steve that graced the walls.
“They’re gone on some business trip or something,” Steve told her nonchalantly, shrugging lightly. Val could tell that his parents being gone was a common occurrence by his tone and said no more.
“Can I ask you something,” Val said as they entered his room, absorbing the sights around her. His bed had been barely made, the comforter simply tossed over his pillows to make it look more presentable. His large desk was filled to the brim with knick-knacks and school supplies, a few photos of him and Nancy and his friends gracing the wall. Beside his closet was two bookshelves, one filled with books and the other filled with cassettes, VHS and vinyl records with a fully equipped sound system and turntable closest to his bed.
“Shoot,” he said as he settled on his bed. Val instantly sat in the desk chair, feeling that it was the safest option for both of them.
“Why did you defend me today with that Billy guy? You barely know me.”
“Billy shouldn’t have said that about you, no matter how well I know you,” Steve replied earnestly and honestly, his genuine concern for her melting her heart once again.
“Alright, then why did you kiss my cheek,” she asked. She hadn’t meant to be so straightforward but the action from lunch had been following her all day and she needed to know, “You’re still very clearly hung up on Nancy, so I don’t get it.”
“I’m sorry if I was being too forward.I won’t do it again. We should get started on this homework,” Steve told her, his energy turning dark. His words tried to shut down the conversation, the mention of Nancy clearly upsetting him but Val wouldn’t let it go. He started to stand to grab the various materials they would need.
“You wanted to be friends right,” Val asked, scooting the chair closer to the bed. She placed her hand on his to stop him, the action forcing him to look at her. They both ignored the way their hearts began to beat hard against their chests as skin touched skin, electricity floating through them.
“Well, yea. You seem like a pretty cool person,” Steve said, sitting back down on the edge of his bed.
“To be honest it’s been a long time since I’ve had a friend,” she told him, vulnerability entering her features, their hands still clutching to one another, “I’m probably not very good at making them. Mostly because I say what I think and people can’t handle that.”
“I think I might be able to,” Steve said, smiling softly at her. Val smiled back, relieved that he was no longer upset with her. In one day he had become a lifeline for her, a rock, and she didn’t want to lose him so quickly.
“Alright, so amiga to amigo, go talk to her,” Val said to him, her words like a bomb to Steve’s system, “I can tell how much you care about her and I think you owe it to yourself to at least try to talk to her.”
It was silent for a moment as Steve absorbed her words. Val waited, watching as his features went through different emotions. He looked into her eyes and she saw such pain and sadness that her heart broke.
“I’m not good enough for her. I’ve always known that. I’ve done bad things. Hurt people,” Steve whispered. Val scooted even closer, reaching for both if his hands.
“People make mistakes, do things that they shouldn’t do. You saying those words though, tells me you’re not as bad of a person as you think you are,” Val told him, a warm smile lifting her lips. Steve nearly believed her words.
“I’ll talk to her,” he replied, finally releasing her hands. They both felt empty at the loss of contact, “Now, let’s get started on this homework.”
#steve harrington#steve harrington x oc#steve harrington x poc#stranger things season 2#steve harrington x fem oc
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