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from-a-reckless-writer · 3 years

Text

dove down my rabbit hole of wips and one of my wips isnt a wip anymore! so here, have some gay shit....

“Kelly wants to get married in the woods, I want to get married in Midvale. So, apparently, our wedding will just happen via Zoom. Her in the woods, me at the beach. Ain’t that just fucking grand?”

Alex comes through the door like a hurricane covered in leather. Her helmet lands on Kara’s counter loudly. Her keys haphazardly thrown somewhere in the general direction of the bowl by the door.

“Then have two weddings.”

Alex follows the voice and her eyes zero in on her sister’s best friend.

Lena is sitting on the floor of Kara’s apartment, wearing an oversized sweater. Her dark hair spilling down her shoulders softly. A hand wrapping around a wine glass, the other typing on her laptop, not even jumping in the slightest at the commotion that is Alex’s entrance.

Alex plops down on the couch sighing loudly, not even batting an eye at this utterly domestic scene that is her sister washing the dishes with Lena Luthor on the floor of her apartment.

Lena doesn’t comment at the Danvers’ Sisters antics and Alex doesn’t call them out on the ridiculousness that Lena and Kara are still keen on keeping up.

The three of them already well desensitized to one another’s preferred brand of bullshitery.

“You know, sometimes I forget you're a rich-ass bitch and then you say shit like that and suddenly, I remember,” Alex says, smoothly snatching the wine from Lena’s hand.

She finishes the entire glass in one gulp and Lena rolls her eyes. Alex had finally proposed to Kelly the other week and well, that meant this week all of them had fallen victim to the Olsen-Danvers wedding debacle. It seems today isn’t the day that that whole dilemma is going to stop.

The wedding, of course, was still a few months away, but both parties were stressing about it as if it was going to happen immediately the next day.

Kara swoops in then, mussing up Alex’s hair, earning her an annoyed Hey stop it! before putting down another wine glass and pouring for Lena. Her arms are still wet from washing the dishes.

Lena murmurs her thanks and continues what she was saying, “Well, since you’ve finally remembered that I’m a billionaire. Let me pay for two weddings.”

Alex chokes on the wine.

“What? You’re kidding me, right?”

Lena continues typing, ignoring Alex’s shock, you’d think she didn’t just offer to pay for a wedding.

“Well, I mean, I’m never gonna get married,” Lena explains, “but if you let me do this, I can brag around that I’ve paid for two weddings. Not to mention I’m gonna make two brides very, very happy.”

“Or,” Kara interjects, lowering herself on the opposite side of the couch, perfect for Lena to lean back between Kara’s legs and lay her head on the side of her thigh. “You can just wait for Kelly to get here,” Kara says, pointedly. “Talk it out like normal adults and reach a compromise.”

Kara’s hands start to snake their way from Lena’s hair to Lena’s shoulders, massaging, all too aware that Lena won’t stop whatever it is she’s working on on her laptop till everybody gets here.

Lena lets herself melt and closes her eyes, sighing as Kara’s fingers dip at the junction of her neck and shoulder with just the right amount of pressure.

“I don’t wanna get married in the woods, Kara.”

Lena opens one eye to take a peek at Alex, who looks exasperated, her eyes pleading, gulping down another glass of wine.

“Don’t tell me,” Kara replies. “Tell Kelly.”

“The bugs, Kara,” Alex moans. “Imagine the bugs, and the moss and the ughhh.”

She dramatically thumps the back of her head on the couch.

“Imagine the soil. Clumpy wet soil. Eurgh. Ew. What if I fall face first in that? What if I trip over a stupid tree root in my heels? In my wedding dress?!”

“Alex, you don’t even have a dress yet,” Kara deadpans.

“I thought you were gonna wear a suit,” Lena adds.

“You two suck.” Alex pouts.

****

The rest of their friends arrive and Kara finally succeeds in prying Lena’s work laptop away from her. Alex was already teasing the line from tipsy to drunk by the time Kelly comes through the door.

“Let’s get married in Vegas!!!!” Is how Alex decides to greet her fiance.

Kelly laughs, gives her a peck then answers, “As much as that sounds like a very convenient wedding, I don’t think Eliza would appreciate that, baby.”

Alex frowns at being rejected, sags against the couch and crosses her arms. Why does Kelly always have to be right?

“How much has she had to drink?” Kelly turns to Kara.

“Uhh ask Lena. She made her switch to whiskey.”

Lena—who Kelly thinks was way too busy nuzzling against Kara’s neck to even answer her question—mumbles something that sounds like “S’was just two glasses.”

Kelly just shakes her head, makes Alex drink a glass of water. Her ring making a clink against the glass.

“Alright, what if,” Nia sing-songs, eyes sparkling with mischief, “we just settle this whole wedding thing with Charades?”

Nia claps her hands together like some gameshow host and Kelly takes a deep breath through the nose.

She’s been to enough Game Nights to know where this is headed.

Everybody else was intoxicated enough to accept the suggestion as a grand idea, not at all even thinking that: Hey, isn’t this something we should all take seriously?? Maybe ask the brides what they want, maybe???

Kara nods enthusiastically, agreeing immediately, “Oh!! That’s a great idea! Fun and fair at the same time!”

“Olsen vs. Danvers. Brides get to pick their teams.”

Nia pulls a white board out of nowhere, uncaps a marker and writes “Team Danvers”, “Team Olsen” separated by a neat line in the middle.

“Are we really letting Nia take charge of our wedding venue?" She hears Alex whisper from where she has her tucked at the crook of her neck.

Kelly sneaks a glance at the chaos happening before their eyes; Brainy already claiming to be on Kelly’s team, J’onn shaking his head opting to be the game scorer instead and refusing to participate, somebody’s shouting about: NIA, DREAM PROJECTIONS AT CHARADES IS CHEATING!!!!

Guess this is their life now.

Kelly smirks, boops Alex on the nose and says, “Scared you’ll lose, Danvers?”

****

Alex loses by three points.

“How was I supposed to know you were gesturing 'Transformers'!?!” She barks at Kara, throwing her hands in exasperation.

“I pointed at Nia!” Kara huffs, incredulous at the fact that her sister is blaming her.

Nia lost them a point too!

“What does Nia even have to do with it???” Alex’s voice grows higher in pitch. Her brows furrow in a mix of confusion and frustration.

“Trans, Alex. Trans.”

“Oh my God,” Alex groans. “How are you this dumb?”

And that was the story of how Kelly got her dream wedding.

****

The frenzy finally dies down, some time between Nia making up another drinking game and J’onn making her sit back down. A movie that none of them were watching provides a background noise to the almost lazy atmosphere. Kelly and Alex were pressed close on the far end of the couch, enjoying the temporary quiet.

“Guess we’re getting married in the woods, huh?” Alex murmurs.

“I guess we are,” Kelly whispers back. Alex beams at her, grinning dopily at the thought of finally getting the ending they deserve. It would be the perfect day, she has no doubt about that. No matter where they are. It would be perfect because they got there together.

Alex can’t wait.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing.”

Alex continues to smile stupidly, nudges her nose to Kelly’s.

“Just— I don’t really care where we get married, I guess.”

“Oh yeah?” Kelly raises an amused brow at her.

“Mm-hm. So long as you’re the one walking down the aisle.”

Alex presses their lips together, breathes Kelly in deep and for the first time that night, she feels that the future isn’t so scary, even though there is still a very large possibility that she might trip over a tree root on her wedding day.

Somebody interrupts their kiss.

“She’s only saying that ‘cos she lost.”

“Shut up, Luthor.”

****

“Text me when you get home!”

Lena hears Kara call loudly after her sister, before closing the door. Game Night has officially ended and as usual she’s still here. She’ll always be here, she thinks for a brief moment. The thought holding more depth than it should.

Kara didn’t even question her when everybody began filing out and Lena just started picking up the discarded dirty plates and walking them to the sink. They’re well past the point of asking each other if the other would stay over.

It was already some unspoken rule.

Already well past the point of Lena wanting to ask Kara what the hell it is they’re doing.

She’s bent over the sink, scrubbing—Kara doesn’t own a dishwasher for the sole reason that she finds doing the dishes therapeutic—when Lena takes a glance over her shoulder.

Kara is sitting on a high stool near the counter, casually flicking through her phone. It was Lena’s turn to do the dishes tonight. Once upon a time her doing the dishes would have resulted in a fight. “I can superspeed the dishes. Why would you even want to do them?” A statement that would be met with an eye roll.

Kara has learned not to fight her on it again, after around the 7th time that Lena had stubbornly insisted and Supergirl got doused with dishwashing liquid.

And now, it’s become some sort of routine, Kara does the dishes after lunch and Lena does the dishes after dinner. Oh, how the paparazzi would kill for this—Lena Luthor Knows What A Sponge Is?

“Is it true when you told Alex you’re never going to get married?”

Kara decides to break their quiet.

“Yeah, pretty certain about that one, why?” Lena turns around, cocks a curious brow. If she’s being honest she’s beyond certain that she’s not going to get married. She always jokes about how she’s married to L-Corp but it isn’t till now that she realizes how true that is, and...how lonely.

“I don’t know,” Kara murmurs, not meeting Lena’s eyes. “I just like the idea of you getting married, I guess.”

“What?” Lena chuckles at that; genuinely confused but still curious.

“Well, I mean—” Kara wobbles through her words.

“I guess, I just— I like the idea of you walking down the aisle...in a white dress,” Kara muses.

Then, “Or a suit!!” she quickly amends. “If you wanna wear a suit, that is. That can totally be arranged, you know?” Kara waves her hand around and it’s like now that she’s started, she can’t stop.

And Lena’s just standing there, water still dripping from her elbow, unsure of how to feel about Kara imagining her getting married. Quite an incredulous scene isn’t it? Her getting married? What a crazy thing to say, an even crazier scenario to imagine!

She snaps out of it, realizing Kara’s still rambling.

“I have no objections whatsoever with that, if you wanna wear a suit. And yeah, you know? I just— I like that idea. I like the idea of you dancing to your wedding song. The idea of you exchanging your vows, the idea of you-”

“Kara,” Lena decides to put a stop to it, since it’s clearly evident Kara won’t be stopping any time soon. And Lena's feeling way too many things that she doesn’t want to feel at the moment. She’s sure that she’s going to feel more, if she doesn’t put a stop to it herself.

“I’m well aware that it’s the best friend’s job to help with the bride’s wedding,” She says, “but, darling don’t you think you’re putting just a bit too much effort into this? Certainly seems like you’ve thought about it a lot.”

At that, Kara’s cheeks turn a light pink, squirming sheepishly under Lena’s questioning gaze.

Shouldn’t Kara be thinking about her own wedding? How beautiful she would look walking down the aisle. How her blonde hair would look so nicely with her dress. How happy she would finally be after finding someone she could share her life with. Not that Lena's been thinking about those kinds of things. No, of course not. That’d be hypocritical of her at this point. Why would she even— Why were they even talking about this again???

Lena tries to rein in it, tries to focus on Kara again; hands finally finding a dry towel, hesitantly walking into Kara’s space to hear the blonde more clearly.

“Well, I mean- Like I said, I do really like the idea of you getting married,” Kara repeats herself slowly.

And before Lena can come any closer, “Like the idea of you getting married…to me. More specifically,” Kara adds more quietly.

“What?”

Lena stands frozen.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard y- Kara, did you just?”

Lena’s heart is pounding away in her chest. Did she hear her right? Did Kara really just—

Lena’s a step away from her and Kara uses this to her advantage. She pulls Lena closer, tugging at her wrist, the towel dropping from Lena’s hands. Kara summons enough willpower to stare into Lena’s eyes.

“I like the idea of you getting married to me, Lena Luthor.”

“Kara, I’m sorry- What?” Lena jerks away from her, the words finally landing.

“Is that a no?”

Kara lets her go. She can’t focus on Lena’s heartbeat to assess the situation more. Kara’s own heart is betraying her, drumming so loudly in her ears.

“Uh- no, that's definitely not a no?” says Lena hesitantly, eyes wide, breathing nervously. She turns away from Kara for a minute to take a breath, hands fidgeting about.

She whirls around again to face, mutters, “You do realize marriages are for people who are—”

She pauses.

How do you exactly phrase that wedding proposals are for people who are actually in some kind of romantic relationship? And not for people who casually stay over every goddamn Thursday without fail?And okay, maybe sometimes, in a much different reality, would willingly commit fratricide to save the other? And in an also much different reality, willingly expose a secret identity to save the other?

Lena can’t find the right words.

“Oh, I don’t know, Kara,” Lena scoffs, shaking her head disbelievingly. “Marriage is for people who are actually dating each other.”

Kara takes her sarcasm as a good sign and pulls her in again.

“Well,” Kara begins. She can hear Lena’s heart thumping erratically, now that Kara’s gotten her bearings.

“We can always have our first date after the wedding, right?”

Aren’t they well past the point of dating anyway?

She’s got Lena standing between her legs now, her hands wrapping around her waist.

“First date and honeymoon all in one. That sounds great, doesn’t it? I can fly you wherever you want, Paris, Maldives, hell I even have a Fortress in the Arctic, if you’re into that.”

Lena stares at her, blinks once, twice; shakes her head and lets out a noise between a laugh and a scoff.

“Kara Zor-El, you are one ridiculous woman,” She breathes, putting a hand on Kara’s cheek. Because what else is there to say? This whole conversation really is ridiculous. But at the same time Lena feels like she’s floating? Like this may be the best moment of her life, and of course, it’s going to be ridiculous. This is Kara she’s dealing with, after all.

She doesn’t know what she’s going to do if Kara reveals this to be just some sort of joke.

But the way her blue eyes are piercing through Lena’s, so earnest and so warm, argues otherwise.

“So, what do you say? Wanna get married?”

“Are you serious right now?” Lena asks, still unbelieving. This is beyond crazy. They’ve fought aliens and monsters and traveled through time but this? This is just beyond crazy.

“Lena, do I look like I’m joking? And besides, you’d already offered to pay for two weddings, why not pay for our two weddings, instead?”

She shakes her head again, let’s herself fall closer to Kara, lets out a laugh against her neck.

“Mm. You want a Kryptonian ceremony too?”

“Yeah.” Kara’s voice turns shy. “If that’s alright by you.”

“Of course, that’s alright by me. I’d be honored.”

Her heart feels more than full at the thought of Kara wanting to share that part of her with Lena. She’s always had some doubts whenever the topic of Kara’s Kryptonian heritage arises, always half-afraid she’s overstepped on something that isn’t hers.

But looks like there was nothing to fear all along.

“So, we’re getting married, huh?” Kara wiggles her brows, her face breaking into a wide grin.

“Yes. Mm-hm,” Lena hums against her. “I do. I’d marry you. Let’s get married.”

“Seal it with a kiss?"

****

“Hi.”

Lena blearily opens her eyes, follows the soft voice, her bare back being caressed by the sun filtering through Kara’s curtains.

“Hi,” She whispers back. All this feels much too like a fever dream. She’s half-tempted to pinch herself just to check. She’s woken up beside Kara a million times before but she’ll never get used to the sight of soft golden hair and sleepy blue eyes.

Kara gives her a soft peck and the feel of her lips sends Lena reeling.

The previous night was a whirlwind in her mind’s eye. The moment Lena murmured her 'Yes, please.', Kara kissed her passionately. Once they broke away, Kara had zipped around the apartment, Lena too dazed to even ask what it was Kara was looking for.

She watched as Kara tore off a keychain from one of her bags, curled the keyring to fit Lena’s finger and whispered, “This’ll do. For now.”

Kara had kissed her knuckles reverently, her lips making Lena’s blood sing in her veins. The feel of mangled metal fitted just for her left hand is an imprint on her soul. A promise of more to come.

They didn’t make it out of the kitchen the first time. Kara had lifted her by the waist and set her down on the kitchen counter. Which was a good thing, because Lena couldn’t feel her legs after.

They didn’t make it to the bedroom the second time either. She had tackled Kara onto the couch, pinning her wrists together, licking at the shell of Kara’s ear. “My turn now,” Lena had whispered. The way Kara shivered underneath her was enough of a reward. How long had they been waiting for this?

Flashes of last night had her hips bucking slightly unto Kara’s leg sandwiched between her own, but before it could escalate further...

“I have exciting news to share,” Kara tells her.

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm,” Kara hums, now nosing at Lena’s hair.

“What is it?” Lena asks.

“I’m getting married.”

“Oh you are?” Lena plays along.

“Yes. I’m getting married to my best friend,” whispers Kara, almost conspiratorially. “How cool is that?”

Kara looks giddy with excitement and Lena knows she’s mirroring that exact same expression right now.

“Mm. Very cool, darling.”

Kara giggles and they trade more lazy kisses before Lena breaks away to breathe.

“Quite a coincidence though,” Lena husks out against Kara’s lips.

“Oh really? Why?” Kara asks, tries to keep a serious neutral face despite her nose scrunching up in that cute smile that Lena can’t resist

“I’m also getting married,” Lena confides, “To my best friend," she adds, eyes flashing. "Isn’t that great?”

“Very great.” Kara nods slowly, blonde hair falling into her face, a hand running through dark tresses.

“I love you,” Lena whispers, her lips brushing Kara’s softly.

“I love you, too.” Kara kisses her harder then, her hands lazily wandering along Lena’s skin.

They lie there quietly for a few moments, basking in the morning glow and then, “Alex will kill us.”

Lena snorts, twists in the sheets and says, “I think your sister is too busy planning her wedding to even think about plotting our murder.”

read follow-up here.

#im praying we get a dansen wedding u guys #anyways yeah this is something they would totally do right?#get married on a whim #if u see a typo no u didnt #oh and also im still working on the prompts u guys sent me so there's that #thats the majority of my wips cos im one slow writer #happy supercorp sunday lovely people #supercorp ficlet of sorts #the reckless writer writes #supercorp #rcklss writes

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graffitibible · 2 years

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danger days but make it a multiplayer fps au

xPoisonPillerx: usually opts for your more standard straightforward offensive classes or light infantry. a well-rounded player with a good sense of strategy, but way too flashy for their own good. excels at hit-and-run tactics and very adaptable; they’re never held back by their equipment loadout no matter how low-quality or substandard. excellent to have on your team for co-op matches, provided you can deal with them being exceptionally bossy on chat. genuinely good at getting the drop on opponents but it’s a toss-up as to whether this is engineered via genuine cunning or by them resorting to spawncamping and fucking around with map exploits. frequently gets strikes for this kind of shit but inevitably manages to sweet-talk the mods out of actually kicking them from the server for good.

KobraKiller: primarily sticks to support classes like medic, which leads people to assume that he’s a free kill during co-op if they can take care of whoever he’s buffing (usually his terrible sibling). this is a very poor beginner’s error to make since he can and will make short work of you if you try to get the drop on him. he almost always sticks to stealth and close quarters during freeplay, and is scarily adept at close-combat and melee to the point where people think he’s botting with how fast his reaction times are. he’s not. he could play competitively if he wanted to, but doesn’t care enough.

fungool69: swaps between heavy infantry, demo, and engineer classes. loves blasting people to gory meat-paste with RPGs and is an insufferable shit-talker. he’s decent enough at team plays but can easily sink to starting shit and screwing things up for their own side during a co-op match purely out of boredom. has a terrible habit of not giving a crap about splash damage and therefore has the highest rate of friendly fire on the server. always teabags their kills and is the second most frequent supplier of shitposts in the discord.

PvtJet: exclusively mains as a long-range precision sharpshooter. exceptionally good at sniping from cheap fuckoff borderline unreachable parts of the map and is the absolute scourge of the server because of the obscene number of immediate headshots he racks up. mostly sticks to co-op because whenever it comes to freeplay his only hope is to keep his opponents at a distance because once you close in on him there’s a 50/50 chance he’s actually lodged himself in some glitched section of the map and can’t actually get out fast enough to escape. communicates almost solely over text-chat and by sending the occasional incomprehensible deep-fried meme.

XxDOOMBOOMxX: never uses voicechat, probably because then it’ll be apparent to everyone just how young she is. n3ws4g0g0 is the only one in the server who knows that this kid is about 12 at the most; despite this being an all-ages server, the kid is insistent on sending GoGo a monthly tithe of pictures of her cat to keep them from kicking her (GoGo wouldn’t kick her anyway, but enjoys receiving cat pictures too much to complain). most of the time she mains as stealth and light infantry but is weirdly good with demo classes. she really shines in co-op when she’s working with a familiar team. fungool69 taught her how to rocket jump and no one has known peace since.

AgtCherriPop: offensive main and just offensive in general. favors a cutthroat aggressive play style and prefers high mobility to make frequent use of run-and-gun to the absolute max. default loadout, no bells and whistles, no special skins, and no specialized equipment. rushes opponents and takes them down, often screaming obscenities into the voice chat as he does so. it’s impossible to tell if he’s having a genuine fit of Gamer Rage or if he’s just doing a bit because he calms down stunningly quickly in time for the next match. in co-op he’ll almost always default to suicide-rush tactics, not caring if he eats shit as long as it secures his team a win.

wkil109fm: almost everyone thinks that there’s no way this guy is for real when they first hear him on voicechat and assume he’s too old to be any good in a match. they all forget that he grew up with boomer shooters like quake and doom and unreal tournament and he will absolutely school anyone who thinks he’s got a slow trigger finger. he sticks primarily to default loadouts, but swaps classes easily, having over time cemented a solid playstyle for just about all of them. he’s nigh unbeatable when it comes to classic one-on-one, which is made even more impressive when you learn that he plays with aim-assist off and crosshairs disabled. everyone calls him “doc” for short due to his tendency to play medic in team matches when no one else is on support. he’s one of the server admins and mods the discord.

n3ws4g0g0: exclusively an engineer main with an intimate understanding of game mechanics and how best to exploit them, a secret which they share with very few. she’s also one of the server’s dedicated griefers, and will absolutely throw a match to make someone’s life difficult from a technical standpoint if they’ve pissed her off enough. makes a brutal team-up with Cherri, backing him up and buffing him with supports in his reckless rush tactics and therefore making them about ten times more effective. text-to-speech on voicechat only and number one supplier of shitposts in the discord.

99hotchimps: mostly mains stealth and light infantry. she’s not a heavy hitter but she’s zippy and can wear opponents down over time. a decidedly defensive player who sticks to waiting out deathmatches until she can swoop in and wipe out any injured survivors. co-mods the discord and WILL kick you if you don’t log in often enough, and is also the only person in the server to bother maintaining this rule at all.

AttentionHorse: mains light infantry almost exclusively high-mobility, light-and-fast, glass cannon type of player that favors agility and sneak tactics. hits very hard but can get taken down quickly if they’re caught. always on voicechat so that the entire server can be treated to their seemingly bottomless music library which consists entirely of vocaloids and early-to-late 2000s pop music, much to the chagrin of any streamer who forgets to keep them muted. they actually have a decent youtube following thanks to a dedicated speedrunning channel but they’ll always make time to tear up some turf with Cherri or Doc during co-op matches.

tommy_chowmein87: literally just here to sell you cosmetics and rares. if there’s some kind of hard-to-find or unique weapon or skin you want, he WILL have it as long as you can pay. you can recognize him because he’s the only person with a default skin who never actually fires a single shot in a match. he moves around just enough to avoid getting timed out but almost all his time on the server is spent initiating or turning down player trades. anyone who thinks he’s a free kill during pvp matches quickly learns otherwise when Doc materializes seemingly out of nowhere to rain holy hellfire on you - and then, assuming Tommy is still alive at that point, headshot the son of a bitch himself at point blank range.

scarecrow3542317: the server admin nobody likes. everyone shittalks him in the discord, which he has, as far as anyone knows, no idea exists. he’s actually very good at freeplay and pvp deathmatches but abjectly horrible in co-op. sticks rigidly to the server rules and gets huffy when people engage in pointless or cheap shit like map exploits. number one petitioner of player bans for that specific purpose. he’s best as heavy infantry and mid-range gunner classes but lacks creativity and is easily predictable once you’ve learned his patterns.

Ultra_Velocity: always opts for general offensive classes. he’s decent if bossy as a team lead (especially on voice chat) but is easily goaded into making mistakes and tunnel visions very easily. he’s a twitch streamer with a couple hundred casual subscribers but resents the fact that his most famous clips literally all involve xPoisonPillerx pulling off batshit stunts on Velocity’s streams. as a result Velocity fosters an extremely one-sided rivalry with them and is determined to beat them on the server scoreboard. he insists that he’ll manage it one of these days.

HotterTwin and CoolerTwin: they’re a matched set and frankly they’re just here for the cosmetics and player skins. most of the time they stick to support classes and buffing other team members (usually each other) so they don’t have to worry about tactics or making judgment calls. they’re surprisingly good when they’re on the same side and can tag-team other players fairly efficiently, but when they’re on the opposite sides of a co-op match they will focus their attention solely on each other and ignore everyone else, driving both of their teams utterly bananas. at times one of them will manage to score their team a win in a seemingly random stroke of brilliance (to which both will attempt to claim credit without fail). honestly it’s a wonder they don’t lose more matches thanks to their godawful ping scores. they’re both also very keen to plug their youtube channel in the discord (it’s makeup. sometimes nails. sometimes gaming while doing nails. but usually makeup.)

VINYLDESTINATION: heavy artillery weapons main only. he plays like any good disruption tank; he’ll soak up damage and deal it out hard. it takes a lot to put him down thanks to how much he’s beefed up his survivability over time. Velocity insists that he play support instead of tanking, and he literally never does. he never talks on voicechat and communicates solely through duke nukem soundbytes.

V0lumeControl: largely mains unobtrusive support and defensive classes and is possessed of a thoroughly average playstyle. the fact that he’s easily overlooked makes him pretty good at sliding past the attention of other players, and if he were interested in climbing up the server scoreboard that wouldn’t be a bad strategy. unfortunately for everyone, that is not his goal in any of his play sessions because Volume is purely there to spruce up matches by annoying the hell out of his teammates with Vinyl as the silent enabler. as it happens Volume is immune to actually being kicked thanks to his role as unofficial bot-wrangler in the discord.

mike_milligram: takes the game wayyyy too seriously. routinely spends gratuitous amounts of lobby time prior to a match meticulously planning a strategy with the rest of his time on the voicechat, oblivious to the fact that they all mute him immediately after. he’s a very conventional player to the point where it’s kind of boring because he always does the same loadout, the same skins, the same strategy, and he insists that it doesn’t need changing because it works (it only sometimes works). never plays support but will juggle offensive and heavy classes based on what he’s feeling.

MonsterBash44: takes the game very seriously, which isn’t as embarrassing when you’re a child and also the target audience. prefers to play offensive and heavy infantry classes but isn’t opposed to changing things up if the team’s lacking a little spice. is a surprisingly aggressive and ruthless player during freeplay, sticking to melee rushing his opponents, which has a good track record as long as you don’t see him coming. his dad regularly tries to buy him cosmetics that he doesn’t actually want but he has no idea how to make him stop.

animaximum: has the prettiest avatar in the entire server, absolutely decked out with top-tier cosmetics and rares, which makes absolutely no goddamn sense considering how piss awful at the game he actually is, no matter who he’s attempting to main. Red saves his ass constantly even during freeplay matches when she’s ostensibly supposed to be another opponent.

100percent: dps tank. frontline heavy melee fighter who strikes fear in everyone’s hearts when she spawns into a deathmatch thanks to her absolute understanding of game mechanics to the point where she hits fast, hard, and out of nowhere. shockingly high-mobility lightning bruiser. she plays more defensively than her reputation and scoreboard position would suggest, and is a veritable bulwark in any co-op match. when it comes to freeplay, you’re better off either teaming up against her or with her if you want to make it to the end.

biginfrared: disgruntled team lead on co-op matches and begrudging ally for whoever looks like they need the most help during freeplay (usually Max, but sometimes Monster). when it comes down to the wire she’s real bad at pulling the trigger on Monster in pvp, which he positively hates because he doesn’t like the idea of anyone going easy on him. in co-op Red prefers support classes, primarily because she sticks close to her sister and together they wreak absolute havoc.

bluehairedbitch: lightning glass cannon of a player, highly mobile and favors super aggressive rush tactics but can leave herself wide open, especially in co-op since she generally operates with the assumption that someone else on her team has her back. positively lethal in deathmatches. will happily team up with someone else to mow down half the map but has no qualms shooting said partner in the back once the competition has been whittled down.

#danger days #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #in another universe #this is GOING in the au tag #this is the darkest timeline....the one where they are all gamers......#feat all characters i could think of things to do for. mv chars. twitter chars. comics chars. nat am chars.#this is the closest thing to nat am fic you'll get from me on account of: i hated it and it was bad #i spent too much time on this #thank you nestie for giving me SO many ideas for a lot of these lmao this was fun

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thetoadghoul · 3 years

Text

Volunteering: (Ohtani x Reader) <333 (Part - 2)

part 1!

plot: Wednesday’s game arrives which Ohtani invited you to, some bonding time before the first pitch <3 slowwwburn, long cause idk details are fun lol

Wednesday quickly arrived, made much faster by the crazy amount of work you were required to do for your ‘actual’ job. The last three days had been spent with you running around the LA area, as well as cyberspace, to serve your role as interpreter. It was hell, for more reasons than one. The biggest of all being that even though you were not in Japan at the moment, you were still required to wear a proper suit. That meant a tight navy skirt, stockings, and some blasted heels. Sexist men, long meetings, and endless paperwork aside, you enjoyed your job for the most part - but this aspect really wore on you. However, the pain in your feet wouldn't damper your excitement for tonight’s game. Today you were not actually volunteering at the Angels stadium.

The day before yesterday, when you were actually volunteering, a bashful Ohtani had tapped you on the back while you were picking up baseballs from the batting cages. When you turned around the giant man was holding out a lanyard with an attached document, marked ‘VIP Guest of Player’. It took all you had not to let your hands shake with nerves as you reached out and grabbed it gingerly.

“Uh, see you on Wednesday.” The man looked to the side awkwardly, running a hand through his hair.

“...Yeah.” You responded with a small smile, feeling stupid, but it was all you could think of.

“Well, uh, I better go...” He motioned behind his back with a lazy thumb, staring to jog backward.

You nodded quickly, rushing to go back to picking up balls before you said something super lame, or weird.

It wasn’t till you were on the way home did you take a look at the back of the stadium pass. It read ‘Guest of Shohei Ohtani’. So he had put in the request for you, that was just like him, so kind. It would be an understatement to say you weren’t excited for tomorrow.

-----

Currently, your heart was still racing, but for another reason other than a certain super cute and insanely talented baseball player. It was because it was almost three-thirty in the afternoon and you were running around your company-provided apartment, trying to get ready as fast as you could. Ippei let you know you should get there around four-thirty, by then the team would have been done warming up and starting to enjoy a pregame meal while the away team got the field to themselves. From that point onwards, pretty much everyone was free to relax in the clubhouse till just before the first pitch.

With little time to consider, not even enough time to take a shower after having just got off work, you went with an oversized red T-shirt, baggy jeans, and some cool Jordan’s. This was your go-to, and it was comfortable. You don’t have many clothes anyway, living out of a suitcase.

Right as you were about to run out of the door you remembered to grab your standard Angels cap, it had been provided to you as part of your volunteer uniform a while back, slipping it on over your tight work bun. You would let your hair down later.

All right, everything was in order, Uber scheduled, lanyard secured.

It took about half an hour to arrive at the stadium, and once it came into view, you instructed the driver to let you out in front of the ballpark entrance. It had been a long time since you got to go through the gates as a member of the audience, it actually gave you a wave of nostalgia seeing everyone in their gear, so hyped up for the game, tailing gating outside for what was probably hours.

Once you were through, you started walking through the concession stands and various other stalls, dodging around the fans that were already inside watching the warm-ups, as well as hanging out drinking and eating. There were pictures of Ohtani everywhere, people taking turns snapping pictures of each other in front of the various cutouts of him. The air was buzzing with energy, and it seemed like all for that guy. Honestly, you had worked for a couple different teams over the years, but you had never seen hype like this. It was surreal, seeing a legend in the making.

You smiled, gripping the lanyard around your neck, making your way through the stadium. Shohei was super nice to do this for you, really, you should show him your support. Maybe a quick peek in the team store would do? Plus, you deserved to spend some money on yourself. After all, this was the first time you had really been ‘out’ in the almost three months you had been in California. Your free time was either working, volunteering, video games, or sleep.

You took a couple moments in the Angel's merch shop, quietly perusing the aisles, keeping an eye out for any Ohtani-themed items. Unfortunately, there weren’t really that many, probably sold out by the fans. What was there, was way too small for you.

“Y/n, you here to watch the game?” A young voice sounded.

When you turned to see who addressed you, a familiar girl was standing there grinning.

“Hey Jordan! I didn’t know you were working tonight.” You grinned back.

Jordan worked at the store as a stock manager, she was close in age to you so the two of you often hung out. You had invited her over a couple times, both bonding over your love for crappy reality TV, beer, and of course, baseball.

“Yeah it was last minute, a girl was feeling sick and there wasn’t anyone else cept’ me.” She sighed.

“Bummer, text me if you need help?” You offered, to which she waved you off.

“Nah, you enjoy being here and NOT working.” She chuckled, walking over to organize a messy shelf.

“So, you looking for something in particular?” The girl glanced over her shoulder.

“Uh yeah, you recommend any cool Ohtani stuff? Or is there any at all... seems wiped clean in here.” You said while looking around.

“Ohtani? You here to cheer him on too then. Wanna catch his eye.” She teased.

“Don’t say it like I’m just here for my like, prince charming.” You snapped back playfully, but, maybe a little too fast.

“Aren’t you?” She pressed with an eyebrow.

“Okay, I’m leaving.” You pouted, fake walking away.

“I’m just kidding, actually, stay here for a second I might have something you’ll like.” Jordan yelled as she jogged off to the back room behind the counters.

You did as you were told and when she came back there was a large white Angels jersey in her hands.

“Ta-da!” She grinned, twisting it around to show the player’s name on the back.

“Oh, it’s in Kanji? That’s cool, I didn’t know these existed?” You questioned, running your finger over the ‘tani’ character of Ohtani.

“It’s the last one on the floor, had to grab it off the mannequin. Hope it’s not too big? It’s XL?” She questioned, passing it to you to hold.

“Nah it’s perfect, can’t you tell.” You joked holding the jersey next to you, while you showed off your oversized clothes.

“Figured it'd be fine, wanna get rung up? I’ll give you that ‘good good’ employee discount. But, don’t tell anyone.” She smiled, heading to the register, to which you nodded and jogged after her.

After you finished your purchase and waved bye to Jordan, it was time to head to the clubhouse. It was around five, so you were later than you planned but Shohei usually practiced batting in the cages a little while longer while everyone headed in. Slipping the plastic shopping bag into your purse, and ripping the tags off your new jersey, you slipped it on over your T-shirt, smoothing out the material as best you could. It felt great to finally have some real merch from the team, and part of you sort of wondered what Ohtani would think when he saw you. Hopefully, it wasn’t too much to just show up in his gear after he pretty much randomly invited you, let alone in the stadium-specific one, as you just learned from your colleague.

After you got to an employee-only doorway, you pushed on it hoping it was actually open. Ippei had also let you know via text that it would be unlocked for you. Another kindness of Shohei, not just inviting you, but making sure you had access to all the catering and AC inside the resisted area of the building. You slipped in and locked the door behind you, not wanting to encourage some intoxicated fans to follow. The hallway was empty and cool as you started making your way to the clubhouse.

You were admittedly a bit nervous by the time you got to the doors, feeling a bit awkward about strutting in as anyone other than a volunteer for the first time. Carefully you pushed open the door, making sure not to hit anybody. The room was full of chatter, some players eating, some playing cards, others watching TV on the room's monitors. You looked around for Ohtani, but he wasn’t there yet apparently. No matter, you strolled in and went for the snack area. Truthfully you hadn’t eaten since that morning, and that was just a toasted bagel. Turning your back to the rest of the room, you began filling up your plate with cocktail shrimp and grapes.

“Nice jersey.” Ippei said, coming up next to you, grabbing small sandwiches for his plate.

“Is that sarcastic?” You questioned with a smile, finishing your plate.

“Nah, I’m sure he likes it.” Ippei jerked his head to the left.

He? You leaned back to see around the man, meeting Shohei’s surprised face almost immediately. Had he been standing there the whole time? He had obviously been staring at your back, at his name, bashfully looking up to your face when you moved, blinking a couple times to clear his eyes.

“I uh, got it ten minutes ago.” You grinned awkwardly, pointing your thumb proudly at the jersey, hoping he wouldn’t think you were a weirdo.

The large player didn’t say anything, blinking more slowly this time before opting to just nod gently, with a quick “thanks for your support”, hurriedly leaning forward to start filling his plate with all kinds of foods.

—-

Once everyone had their food the three of you found a place to sit while you ate, it was at the back of the room away from the noise, and where the two usually sat before a game anyways. A small conversation started while the three of you ate calmly.

“Why... do you only have grapes, and shrimp?” Ohtani questioned suddenly, looking at your plate baffled. You looked down at it as well, pausing for a moment trying to find out what was so weird about that.

“Uh, well, it’s because... these things are... super expensive in Tokyo. It’s like a rich person food to me.” You smiled, eating a couple shrimps happily.

“Wow. That’s so sad.” Ippei chuckled before taking a bite of his sandwich.

Shohei on the other hand burst out laughing at your response, making you laugh a bit too at your pitiful confession.

“Seriously, I feel like a mega-rich, and very posh, Ginza lady right now - eating nothing but shrimp and fruit. So fancy right? ” You exclaimed, popping a grape in your mouth.

The Japanese player laughed even harder, tears building up as he wiped his eyes.

“Those people wouldn’t touch that stuff with a three-meter stick.” Ippei stated, letting out a small laugh.

“Just let me have my moment.” You pouted through a smile, shoving more shrimp in your mouth.

The other man calmed down finally and was now sitting there smiling while he ate.

“So, fancy y/n, are you okay to sit in the dugout tonight. Not too unrefined for you?” Ippei questioned with a smirk.

“That’s, allowed?” You asked, surprised.

“Yeah, if you want to. Can’t stay there the whole time, but.” The man responded nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.

“It’s the best place to hear, ‘the surprise’.” Shohei added, food in the process of being shoved in his mouth.

“Well, doesn’t seem like there’s any other option.” You smiled at the player, who nodded in acknowledgment.

“He’s batting first tonight, you won’t have to wait long.” Ippei spoke, starting on the next sandwich.

“Hope me being in there won’t be bad luck.” You joked.

“You believe in that?” Ippei smirked.

“My family ingrained it into me, wasn’t allowed to watch a single super bowl game in the living room till I literally moved out.” You frowned, stabbing a grape.

“Harsh.” The man smirked with a small laugh under his breath.

“You will be good luck, for sure.” Shohei leaned forward in a hunch to take another bite of food, smiling sincerely at you as he looked up from his food.

“Then, I will see to it that will become a very good omen. Please believe in me.” You responded in the highest form of keigo you knew, bowing rigidly from your seat for comedic effect. Since you never studied that level of grammar, it was really freaking bad, causing the two men to laugh again.

“You’re funny.” Ippei chuckled.

“Yeah, and your Japanese is so good though?” Shohei exclaimed, eyebrows raised, eyes wide.

“Nah it’s pretty bad, I fell off the study wagon a long time ago.” You laughed awkwardly, waving a hand in front of your face.

“You’d be there forever if you stayed on.” Ippei chuckled again, while Shohei nodded in sullen agreement.

“Writing would be nice though, having to look up every other kanji at the doctor's office, or like city hall makes me literally sweat, like, a lot. Buckets. But when I look around, I'm the only one.” You giggled.

“You’re so honest.” Shohei chuckled, wiping his mouth with a napkin, still leaning forward in his chair, you grinned back at him. Your eyes locked for a while, you had never noticed, but his eyelashes were sort of long.

At that moment Ippei had to take a call, letting the two of you know he’d be back in a bit, walking off. The two of you looked away and finished eating in silence.

When you looked up from your empty plate, the large player was now staring at you with a soft expression. The warmth in his eyes made you blush, he didn’t even break his gaze once he was caught like he usually did. You responded back to him simply with a shy smile, before being the one to avert your own eyes to the floor again.

Thankfully at that moment, a group of Angels came over, slapping the Japanese man on the back, starting up a conversion. They were going over strategies for the game and overall just getting hyped up. You didn’t have much to input, so you just kind of sat there enjoying the excited chatter. Shohei smiled merrily the whole time, inserting little jokes, completely affected by their excitement. The way he carried himself really reminded you that the essence of baseball was really just about having fun with your teammates and giving it your all. He looked simply happy to be there, and it made you smile too, just watching him goof off. It was charming to see his duality of being a just big kid with endless laugher, versus the super-serious, and seasoned player he was on the mound.

You were really trying hard not to but, you were rapidly developing feelings for Shohei. The last three months of volunteering here, you of course thought he was really cute and kind, classic boyfriend material. A simple crush, like many of the girls working around him, surely had as well. However the possibility of you two actually dating had always been a foreign concept, one which stopped you from even considering it, at all, you just didn’t know if you even could. With you both traveling for work, how would there be time? Plus, what about the media? His family? Yours? All those things seemed unscalable walls, that is, until this moment, when you could feel his gentle eyes on you once again.

Maybe, there was something? Or maybe, he was just a super nice guy, and you were treated no different than anyone else.

When you snapped out of your thoughts, Shohei was starting to stand up, grabbing everyone’s empties plates. He reached his hand towards you, asking for the one in your hand with a tiny nod of his head, to which you thanked him, stood up, and handed it over.

Well.

Either way, you were so screwed.

-------

Hope you enjoyed! <3

#大谷翔平 #ohtani shohei #shohei ohtani #ohtani shohei imagines #shohei ohtani imagines #ohtani imagines #ohtani x reader #ohtani #ohtani angels

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primasveraas-writing · 3 years

Text

"Kent v Linebacker" -Ted Lasso

Roy's knee is fucked. This is well known.

His fucking monster child, who he loves, accidentally fucks it up more. Such is life.

Part 2 // Accompanying AU

WORDS: 2631

XXX

Their first son is “built like a linebacker,” according to Ted Lasso. Roy shows his usual disdain at the reference to the wrong type of football, but Keeley wearily agrees- she was, after all, the one who carried then delivered their 10-pound baby.

Most people see their son and suggest rugby instead of football, even as they pile tiny Kent jerseys and footballs onto the new parents. Roy insists he doesn’t give a damn if their child wants to play rugby or football or join the damn chess club, but he also tears up the first time Keeley puts him in a tiny (or maybe just small) Richmond jersey.

Because of the way Roy and Keeley are, they balance each other out. Marriage and parenthood come to them relatively smoothly, save for typical growing pains and bumps in the road. But they figure it out, at least for the most part.

One of the more persistent bumps is Roy’s knee. Because, while he was forced to walk away from playing football, Roy is reluctant to accept other limitations. He’ll run or dance or carry around the baby’s new crib, and then swear and pop his knee back into place as needed. Doctors eventually find this out and inform him that this is, in fact, bad. Roy Kent tells them to fuck off. He doesn’t echo this sentiment when Keeley suggests that they’re right.

Because, as usual, she seems to have a point. It doesn’t always take a miles-long Christmas day walk or a rom-com style sprint to Ted Lasso to fuck up Roy’s knee. Somedays, it’s going down the stairs one too many times. Or standing up long enough to make Keeley a fancy dinner. Or jumping around in the coaches’ box after a Richmond win. So Roy concedes this matter, and anyway, he doesn’t particularly enjoy moving his kneecap around or Phoebe’s and Keeley’s face when he does so.

Roy scales back, reluctantly and unhappily. He does modified yoga with the moms and they suggest stretches to help him. Roy doesn’t push himself nearly as much, and so the pain in his daily life decreases.

Then Roy becomes a father, and then his son becomes a toddler.

Oliver is a fucking ray of sunshine. He’s inherited Keeley’s bubbly personality, something evident from his first dazzling smile and the peals of laughter that soon follow. When he starts to talk, he does so incessantly, and he puts every ounce of his energy into babbling and running literal circles around his parents. Even Keeley- even Ted Lasso, occasional babysitter- struggle to keep up. But Roy and Keeley and the Richmond team do their level best to entertain and supervise him, and it works.

Then, because they’re fucking daft, Roy and Keeley decide they want another fucking monster to turn their lives all upside down.

Oliver is three when they tell him he’s going to be a big brother. He’s overjoyed, then he cries, then he’s comforted, then he’s overjoyed again. Roy is the happiest he’s ever fucking been with his son, and Keeley pregnant, and then life comes along and fucks it all up again.

Father and son are just home from preschool, Oliver restarting his long-winded recap of his day when he sees Keeley. Roy hobbles through the door behind him, grinning at Keeley for half a second. She beams back at him, then returns her attention to their child, brows furrowing as she tries to decipher his somewhat senseless story.

Roy’s standing by Keeley’s side, hand on her shoulder as they listen the best they can. Oliver reaches a part of his tale that’s especially exciting- something about cupcakes and a classmate’s birthday, and he gives a shout, then springs up with his arms spread wide, and-

-forty pounds of force collide with Roy’s bad leg. He hears Keely gasp, which is what registers first, then his vision goes white as pain overtakes him, and he feels himself falling.

He opens his eyes a moment later, and Keeley is crouching at his side awkwardly, the swell of her stomach hindering her. Oliver gives a noise that indicates he’s probably about to cry, and Roy shushes him through a groan.

“Fuck,” Roy says, his voice strained. “I’m okay.”

Keeley purses her lips, which indicates she’s well aware of his lie, but she draws Oliver against her side, rubbing circles into his back as she takes Roy’s hand.

“It hasn’t been this bad before, has it?”

Roy shakes his head. “I think I’m fucked,” he confesses, trying to keep the uncertainty and pain out of his words.

“ER fucked?”

“Fuck no.”

“Can you get up, Roy?” Keeley would sound impatient if not for the way her tone wavers. Roy shifts, babying his leg, and Keeley watches as he winces, cringes, and swears again.

Keeley whispers something to Oliver, and he sniffs loudly before scampering off into the kitchen. His wife stands, unsteady and off-balance, and reaches down to help him. Roy uses only his left leg to rise, trying not to knock Keeley over, and he staggers before grabbing the back of the couch to steady himself. Keeley holds onto his elbow and guides him around so he can sit.

“I’m fucked,” Roy reiterates, and this time, Keeley just nods.

In the end, there’s no ER visit- just a few pulled strings to get Roy into the doctor the next day. Rebecca stops by to deliver crutches and a few bottles of painkillers once Keeley realizes that Roy can’t get to the bathroom- or anywhere else, for that matter- on his own. More reluctantly, Ted is called, and he promises to give Oliver the “best darn sleepover since the movie Sleepover.” Roy isn’t particularly keen on Ted being privy to this particular moment of weakness, but Ted leaves with Oliver quickly enough, and Keeley’s pretty sure that even just a few minutes of exposure to Ted is enough to force some positivity into Roy’s outlook, and for that, she’s grateful.

Roy sleeps on the couch that night, as stairs are out of the question. Even if he could manage to struggle up them, he can only imagine coming back down via a painful fall. He’s alone, too, because, despite Keeley’s protests, he’s not about to let his pregnant wife sleep anywhere but a proper bed.

He lies awake long after kissing and texting Keeley goodnight, and he contemplates the quiet of the house and the apparent severity of the situation. The doctor had wanted Roy to come in today, but she didn’t throw a fit when he insisted he could wait. Instead, he’ll see her tomorrow, first thing, and Ted will take his son to school, and Keeley and Roy will both miss work for Roy’s least-favorite type of doctor’s appointment.

“You dislocated your kneecap again,” Doctor Patel explains, gesturing to an x-ray of a very fucked up knee. “The first time, you twisted it.” She points to a slightly less fucked up x-ray. “But continually dislocating your knee weakened the ligaments. So, when Oliver collided with you, your ACL and meniscus tore completely.”

“That’s why it hurt so damn much.”

Patel nods, then sighs. “You mentioned chronic pain worsening over time- you did everything right, trying to keep it at bay, but this- along with additional trauma- can worsen a knee injury.”

Roy grunts. He expected as much. The first doctor he saw after his final match had warned of this, along with things like arthritis and all sorts of complications. His main worry was that his football career was over, and there was nothing he could do about that, so any accompanying outcomes seemed unimportant.

He was wrong, apparently.

“It’s not unusual for these injuries to get worse over time. Especially when you’re not gentle with yourself. But, your symptoms are indicative of severe tearing. I’m also worried about nerve damage.”

“So what do we do now?”

Keeley is the one who asks, gripping Roy’s hand. He glances at her, then squeezes her hand.

Patel hesitates. Roy likes this doctor- her knowledge and honesty have been extremely comforting to both him and Keeley over the years. She doesn’t take bullshit, not even Roy’s, and he appreciates that about her.

But it’s unusual for her to hesitate.

“I believe our best option is open knee surgery,” she says, and her eyes soften when Roy’s jaw clenches. “There are other routes we can pursue, but we’re at a point where they may not be as effective.

“What are they?”

“We can do more tests and try an arthroscopic surgery or other minimally invasive options, but-”

Roy tunes her out. He’s the last football player of his generation- he’s seen everyone he played with at the beginning of his career retire, and the various injuries that forced this fate upon his fellow footballers. Open knee surgery is a big fucking deal. Especially since he’s not a fucking grandma.

“It’s a long fucking recovery time,” Roy says finally.

A nod.

“We have a baby due in three months.” This time, Keeley squeezes Roy’s hand.

“If all goes well, you’ll be walking unassisted by then. Enough for midnight diaper changes, so long as you don’t sprint into the nursery.”

“And it’ll work best?”

“I can say with reasonable confidence that your case is severe enough to warrant this surgery, and that the other surgeries aren’t typically successful in similar cases.”

“Fuck. Let’s do it.”

They schedule surgery for a few days later, which is a quick turnaround, but it’s enough time for two Richmond matches to take place. The first falls on the day after Roy’s doctor visit, and the second one is the day of the surgery. This gives him pause- Roy’s first and longest love is football, and he’s loath to step away, even for a week. But he thinks of Oliver, hesitant to hug his father when they get home, and Keeley, sneaking glances at him as if expecting him to break when she’s not looking.

Roy trudges- or limps- forward. He stays home for the first Richmond match and tries to ignore Keeley scrolling through Twitter with a worried look on her face. They had debated what would be worse- to miss the match with no explanation, or for Roy to show up on crutches and in obvious pain. In the end, the desire for privacy (and maybe easing Roy’s discomfort) won out, and Keeley and Roy and Oliver watch the match from their living room. Roy and Oliver shout at the TV, and Keeley livetweets, and it’s okay until the post-match conference.

“Coach Lasso! Roy Kent was missing from the coaches’ box tonight. Can you explain why? Has there been a professional change or has something personal occurred?”

Ted holds up a hand, stemming the reporter’s flow of questions. He smiles at her easily, but Roy knows that no matter what Ted says, there’ll be speculation. A nonanswer is still an answer, but they decided as a team to keep the public in the dark as long as possible, to maintain any privacy Roy has.

“Roy and his family are jus’ fine, thank you. As far as I know, Roy hasn’t decided to leave our coaching team, so we’re all good there.” Ted clears his throat, and Roy wonders if his mentor is uncomfortable telling half-truths to the press. “Roy needed some personal time away, but I expect you’ll be seeing him back again shortly. Thanks.”

“Well, that wasn’t complete shit,” Roy muses in near-approval. Keeley hums noncommittally.

“No,” she agrees, pleased. “And I livetweeted the whole thing so nobody thinks one of us is dying.”

“Perfect,” Roy says, satisfied. So long as they don’t get hounded on the way to the hospital. He looks down at his lap, where Oliver is curled against him, fast asleep. Roy moves slightly so that he can wrap his arm around his son, and sighs.

Keeley looks up at them and grins as she takes in the sight. “Look at my boys,” she says softly, and Roy’s heart melts just a little.

Surgery goes well, and Roy leaves the hospital the same day. His memories of the event and the hours after are fuzzy, but Keeley informs him that he watched the Richmond match while the anesthetic wore off, and proceeded to shout an absolutely incomprehensible mix of words and swears at the TV. Richmond lost, but it was hard fought, and it’s days later when Keeley confesses to Roy that he actually cried once the final result was clear. Roy would be less concerned by this if he could remember it at all, but at the same time, he’s reassured that his plan of being totally unaffected by major surgery and attending the match in person didn’t pan out.

Roy quickly decides he’s utterly useless on crutches, instead letting Oliver expend his energy by fetching things like water and painkillers and phone chargers for his dad. There’s plenty for him to do; Oliver thrives with given purpose, and under the extra attention Roy has to spare. He hates being unable to carry his son, but he can still cuddle with him, and draw with him, and even though Keeley is burdened with bathing and chasing after Oliver, Roy can still fucking help here and there. Like telling Oliver to eat his broccoli or clean up his shit, because vegetables are fucking important and his son isn’t a slob.

His return to Richmond is less smooth. He doesn’t want anybody’s fucking pity, least of all from the boys on the team, or from Ted Fucking Lasso, but instead of the fearful reactions Roy’s used to, Roy’s treated with a gentleness he absolutely fucking despises. Nobody wants to push back against his heightened grumpiness (a side effect of knee surgery is that it fucking hurts and this makes Roy very unhappy), and Ted somehow feels obligated to hang back with him as he limps up to the field each day. His fellow coach also launches into several tirades about his and Beard’s and his great uncle Roger’s various injuries over the years, and Roy ends his first week back feeling, unfortunately, closer to all three men, including the one he’s never fucking met in the first place.

Keeley’s made sure to officially announce that he’s had surgery, explaining away his absence and all the speculation that went with it. The press will likely hound him anyways, but Roy already has his response planned (“Fuck off!”).

The crowd cheers him during their next match. He hobbles slowly behind the rest of the coaches, using one crutch even though he really should be using both, swearing under his breath at the soft terrain and his shit balance and fucking kneecaps for being so fragile in the first place. Keeley would say all this support is sweet, and he catches a glimpse of her beaming at him from the stands, Oliver bouncing on her lap, and the agony and humiliation dulls.

Richmond plays a great fucking game. It’s not their best match ever, but they win and celebrate accordingly. Roy makes his excuses earlier than usual; he knows he’s put Keeley through the wringer in the past week, and Oliver keeps rubbing his eyes, and there’s nothing more that Roy wants than to read his son a fairytale then cuddle with his wife in bed.

So they go home, and do exactly that.

Roy’s last thought before he drifts off that night, having tucked Oliver into bed and kissed Keeley quite thoroughly, is of how fucking perfect his life is. And, although he echoes that thought many more times, one of the more poignant occurrences is when his daughter is born, and he holds her in his arms for the first time.

Yeah. Pretty fucking perfect.

#roy kent #roy x keeley #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #keeley jones #roy x keeley fanfic #roy x keeley fanfiction #keeley x roy #ted lasso imagine #roy kent x keeley jones

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taeyongdoyoung · 3 years

Photo

summary: you have a crush on college student renjun so you make use of your best lamest flirting attempts and surprisingly they work?!

pairing: renjun x gn!reader

genre: college!au, romance, pure fluff

warnings: very lame jokes, mentions of a cruel prank in the past (someone asking out renjun as a joke, pls never do that to people!), lots of awkwardness & sweetness, a bit of swearing, reader has an obsession with renjun’s pretty hands

word count: 4.7k

It had been a while since you had a crush so strong you even had a hard time focusing in class. Usually, you were a very good student, diligently taking notes and participating when the professor asked questions. But that was until you saw Renjun for the first time.

It was like something possessed you and suddenly you couldn't think about anything else but his pretty, gentle face, his angelic voice and his lovely hands always drawing something in his notebook. It certainly didn't help much that you were seated right next to him during your shared lectures. It most certainly didn't help that you forgot all your vocabulary when you were in his immediate vicinity. Usually, your teachers and friends described you as well-spoken and eloquent, always knowing the right thing to say.

But that was, of course, until Renjun. All words disappeared from your poor brain whenever he was around. And it's not like you didn't want to talk to him, get to know him better. But you physically couldn't bring yourself to form a coherent sentence. You kept telling yourself it was just a silly crush and it would pass in time. But the more time passed, the stronger you felt the need to do something about your feelings. Naturally, you couldn't speak, but there was still something you could do. Something you probably did best. Write.

So one day, after what felt like an eternity of yearning, you finally gathered the courage to act on your emotions. Taking a small sheet of paper out of your notebook, you wrote a little something. It was probably super lame but apparently, even your writing skills were affected by your crush on him. As soon as your "masterpiece" was done, you slid it towards Renjun before you could chicken out and change your mind about this whole thing. The note had the following text:

Roses are red, Violets are blue, Your drawings are almost As pretty as you. P.S. Key word: almost ;)

The second he spotted the little note which was folded in a hurry, he opened it curiously. Once he read its insides, you could hear him snort under his breath. Was it that bad? You couldn't help but worry. Then, he took his own pen and started writing something under it. That was a good sign, right? You were feeling hopeful. Once he was done, he slid the paper towards you. You opened it in a rush. His response was:

Hey! Are you bullying my art?!?

You looked at him in confusion. How could he have possibly misunderstood? However, he was too focused on multitasking (drawing most of the time and occasionally taking notes based on the lecture) to spot your reaction. You decided you had no choice but to be as explicit as possible and wrote another note:

Nooo, I meant to compliment both you and your art, sorry if it came off wrong and lame :(

When he received it, you could swear you saw him smiling a little, which made your heart melt. How was he so beautiful? Soon enough, his reply came:

That's alright, I'm just teasing...Also, it worked.

You couldn't believe it. It worked? You'd successfully grabbed his attention by using this first-grade flirting method in college? You were suddenly feeling brave and kept writing. It was too late to turn back time.

I just think you're really pretty and cool especially when you draw but I was too hesitant to talk to you directly...

When he read your most recent note, he even gave you a look of disbelief, which you couldn't interpret until you saw his response:

Cool? Wow, that's a first...And it's ok, I don't bite.

You chuckled quietly and suddenly noticed that class was ending soon. You couldn't wait until tomorrow so you hurriedly wrote the content of your next note:

What do I have to do to get your number?

Renjun shook his head in amusement and this time, his reply came quicker than before:

*number enclosed* Here, that wasn't so hard, was it?

You could hear the lecturer saying his words of conclusion and you hurried to respond via another note, because you couldn't trust your voice to actually speak to Renjun. Not yet, at least. So, you wrote:

Thank you!!! Here is mine: *number enclosed*

And just as he received your final note, the students around you started gathering their things. You simply looked at Renjun and you still couldn't believe he'd actually replied to your silly flirting and even gave you his number! You waved him goodbye like a lovesick fool and practically ran outside of the lecture hall. Stage fright whomst? Try having a crush on the prettiest boy in the world.

After you went back home, you debated calling Renjun. Eventually, you talked yourself out of it. What if you said something stupid and embarrassing? With texting, you could at least have more time to think things through before sending them. Actually speaking to him seemed too terrifying a task to accomplish. So, you texted him excitedly and your heart did a back-flip when he replied. Was it strange that you already missed him, even though it had only been a couple of hours since you last saw him? Naturally, you couldn't tell him that, it would probably freak him out. So, you settled for texting (for the time being).

Renjun: Why did you run away after class?

You: I was too nervous to speak to you, I'm sorry!!!

Renjun: That's strange, I see you talking to your friends all the time...Am I so scary?!?

You: Nooo, you're not scary, I'm just being an idiot 😔

Renjun: Top of the class does not equal idiot but I'll let it slide this time

You: Thank you for your generosity!

Renjun: What are you up to?

You: Probably gonna work on that assignment for next week

You: Sorry, I'm so boring 😔

Renjun: First of all, you don't have to apologize so much, you did nothing wrong

Renjun: Second of all, saaame. We can brainstorm together if you want?

You: Sorry, I'll stop. Oops, I did it again. Pretend you didn't see it.

You: Also omg, yes pls, that would be great!

And that is how your friendship with Renjun started. Texting on your phones and exchanging notes during class lasted a week until you finally decided to ask him out. Again, via text, because you were feeling too shy to speak to him. The only other contact you'd had was waving at each other. And it's not like he spoke to you, either. There were two explanations for that: 1) he chose to respect your decision or 2) he was possibly just as shy as you were. Whatever the reason, you thought this could not go on forever so you managed to find the bravery to propose a date.

You: Do you wanna go out with me? 👉🥺👈

Renjun: Sure, where do you wanna go?

You: Oh, wow, I didn't think I'd get this far lol

You: Where do YOU wanna go?

Renjun: Hmm, there's this new art gallery I've been meaning to visit...if that's okay with you

You: Anything is good with me as long as I get to see your pretty face

Renjun: What

You: I said you're pretty

Renjun: Shut up, oh my God...

You: Do you want me to stop?

Renjun: Say that again

You: You're pretty

Renjun: 😳😳😳

Renjun: I can't wait to see you again

You: Same here

Once you got to the front of the art gallery, it struck you how strange it was that you would speak to Renjun for the first time ever. You mentally braced yourself as you awaited his arrival anxiously. Your nails were digging into the inside of your hands and you were terrified you'd pierce holes through your own skin. You told yourself this was silly, you had no reason to be so nervous. Renjun was a total sweetheart and he obviously liked talking...well, writing to you. You needn't worry that much, you kept repeating in your mind. You were too busy hyping yourself up to notice him approaching behind you. Too busy to be prepared for what came next.

"Hiii," Renjun greeted you with a surprise back hug.

"Oh dear," you jumped in shock as you turned around.

"Did I scare you, angel?"

Shit. Already with the pet names? How were you supposed to survive?

"No, it's fine," you waved him off, trying to play it cool. "Isn't it weird this is the first time we're actually speaking to each other?"

"Um...kinda," Renjun scratched the back of his head. "But I like it, it's what makes this so special."

"Wow, you sure do have a way with words," you chuckled.

"Shall we go inside?" he suggested.

"Yes, please."

As you looked around the art gallery, you kept pointing excitedly at the paintings, while Renjun was quietly evaluating them and telling you interesting stories about the artists. You couldn't help but be amazed by how attractive he was as he exhibited his knowledge. And of course, you couldn't help but wonder at how he was so much more beautiful than all the art you've ever seen. Naturally, you wouldn't tell him that. First of all, because it was too lame to speak aloud. Second of all, because your voice would undoubtedly betray you and crack or something even more embarrassing. As time passed, you were surprised at how easy it was to talk to him, despite your previous concerns. Renjun was very polite and soft-mannered and he made you feel comfortable, while the two of you looked at the paintings and discussed them. Once you'd seen everything, you were starting to feel a bit bummed out that your lovely date was coming to an end. When you were outside the art gallery, you impulsively asked:

"Can I walk you home?"

"I mean...sure. On one condition."

"Anything."

"I get to walk you home next time."

"There'll be a next time?" you whispered hopefully.

"I hope I don't sound presumptuous if I share my observation we both had a wonderful time."

"That's perfectly alright. Your observation is correct," you admitted.

"I live just around the corner, though. You really don't have to-"

"But I want to."

"So do I," Renjun said and the two of you began walking towards his home.

"I was wondering about something...You already know I didn't speak to you because I was feeling shy, but why didn't you? I have two theories, but I'm curious which one is more on point."

"Do tell and I'll try my best to enlighten you," he joked.

"Okay, so theory number one is you were being respectful of my wish not to talk yet. Theory number two is that you're just as shy as I am."

Renjun laughed and you could swear this was the sweetest sound in the entire universe.

"Am I so transparent? Honestly, it's a little bit of both. But there's another part you didn't guess. But it's too embarrassing."

"Come on, tell meee! It can't be more embarrassing than my lame attempts to flirt with you."

Renjun smiled gently.

"Well, to be honest, I couldn't believe you thought I was cool and pretty...I even feared this was some sort of prank. It wouldn't be the first time someone decided to mess with me like that."

"Renjun, are you serious? I don't understand why anyone would...Scratch that, whoever messed with you didn't deserve even a fraction of your attention. I meant every word I said. I really like you...and your paintings. And I'm sorry I couldn't say it aloud earlier. You genuinely deserve to hear nice things more."

"Thank you. I appreciate it," he blinked cutely. "But enough about me. I never told you...how beautiful you are. How kind and smart."

"I know," you waved him off teasingly. "But coming from you, this means a lot."

Renjun shook his head, amused by your words.

"We should go somewhere you like next time. Maybe a bookshop?" he suggested.

"Am I so transparent?" you repeated his words. "But sure, yeah. That sounds nice."

"Well, this is me," he said, pointing towards his home.

"Already? Aw, time sure flies by when you're having fun."

"I'll see you tomorrow in class, right?"

"Of course," you promised and before you could talk yourself out of it, gave him a quick but heartfelt hug. "Bye, Renjun."

"Bye, angel."

After your first date with Renjun, things were going quite smoothly. You finally got over your nervousness when it came to talking to him and the two of you would occasionally whisper things to each other during class. The first time he held your hand under the desk your cheeks filled with colour. Despite your embarrassment, you held his hand right back and granted him with a grateful smile. After that, holding hands in class (whenever you weren't busy taking notes) became like second nature to you two. It just felt so sweet and comfortable to be close to him. You couldn't wait till the next weekend for your second date. Even though you were just going to a bookshop and had nothing that special planned out, you enjoyed being around him so much that you were more than excited for spending time with him one-on-one. No professors or other students to distract you.

When the day finally arrived, you were surprised to find out your anxious self had made a comeback. Even though you were around him everyday and had grown accustomed to holding a conversation, it had been an entire week since your first date when it was just the two of you and you couldn't help but get cold feet as you were waiting in front of the bookshop. This time Renjun didn't surprise you from behind, you could see him approaching from a distance. Mentally bracing yourself for his inevitable arrival, you knew you'd be an awkward mess no matter how hard you tried.

"Hey, angel," he greeted you with the usual hug.

"It's nice to see you again, Renjun," you replied dumbly, briefly melting into his arms.

"You saw me yesterday, remember?" he teased you.

"Um, yeah, but still," you chuckled.

"Is everything okay? You don't seem like yourself," Renjun immediately noticed the change in your behaviour.

"Why wouldn't it be? Everything's peachy," you lied, but he didn't seem to believe you.

"Be honest with me, please," Renjun asked. You suddenly remembered what he'd confided in you during your first date. It was no wonder he had a hard time trusting you after someone in his past had had the nerve to pull such a cruel prank on a soul as sweet as his. You felt guilty for lying rightaway and began explaining yourself.

"I'm sorry, I'm just nervous. I don't want to fuck anything up. Like I just did by lying and swearing. Fuck. I did it again, didn't I? I'll shut up now," you were rambling anxiously.

"Relax, Y/N, I totally get it. I was just worried maybe you didn't want to be here...with me."

"What? Nonsense. There's nowhere else I'd rather be. No one else I'd rather be with."

"Well, the feeling's mutual so there's no need for concern. Let's look at those books, yeah?"

"Yeah, sounds good, Renjun."

As the two of you went inside and started exploring the hundreds of shelves together, you felt yourself relaxing a little. Being surrounded by so many familiar titles, so many gorgeous covers was comforting. And as you kept showing Renjun some of your favourite books and telling him about your most beloved characters, he realized you were back to your usual self in no time. Attentively listening and occasionally sharing his opinions on certain authors, you didn't notice how quickly time passed by and how much you had enjoyed yourself and each other's company. Once you had looked through the bookshop in its entirety, you felt like it was too early to put an end to your date, but you didn't want to come off as too clingy or something. So, you simply looked at Renjun, expecting him to say what he wanted to do next.

"I promised you I'll walk you home this time, didn't I?" he smoothly said.

"I believe you did," you giggled. It was so sweet of him to remember such a detail.

"I'm a man of my word so lead the way," Renjun replied, offering you his arm.

"It will be my pleasure," you eagerly took his arm and the two of you began walking. You were deliberately moving at a slow place, simply because you didn't want this to end and felt like prolonging the time around him.

"Your hands are so pretty," you blurted out at one point.

"You like my hands, huh?" Renjun smirked.

"Did I say that out loud?" you were undoubtedly blushing really hard.

"I'm afraid so."

You felt completely mortified as you covered your face with your own hands.

"Hey, hey, it's fine. You can tell me anything. Chances are I'll take it as a compliment."

"Really?" you sneaked a peak. "You don't think I'm weird?"

"Maybe a little bit, but it's one of the things I like about you."

"One?" you blinked curiously.

"You're really fun to be around and you've been nothing but sweet to me. And of course, you're stunning, but that goes without saying."

"Without saying? I don't mind hearing it, though."

"I'll have that in mind," Renjun smiled gently.

"Renjun?"

"Yes?"

"Can you hold my hand?" you almost begged.

"I don't know, can I?" he tormented you with a joke.

"Will you hold my hand?" you corrected yourself.

"All you had to do was ask," Renjun acquiesced and intertwined your fingers.

Walking hand in hand, you eventually reached your place. As you two stared at one another, you refusing to go inside, him refusing to go, both of you refusing to let go of the other's hand, you thought to yourself how badly you wanted to kiss him. You had no idea if it was too early for that but you knew that the longer you tried to postpone it, the more you'd crave him. And you were an impatient person. So you quickly kissed him without thinking much. It was a bit awkward and rushed but at least, you had finally done as you wanted. Renjun looked taken aback and blinked at you a couple of times.

"I'm sorry," you apologized again. "I just..."

He silenced you softly with another kiss, this time more slowly and putting your mind and heart at ease. You lost yourself in the feeling of his plush lips against yours, finally letting go of his hand so that you could wrap yours around his neck. Hesitant at first but growing bolder by the second, you could sense Renjun's tongue testing the waters. You slightly parted your lips, letting him in. As the kiss intensified, you could feel him becoming more eager to touch you, his arms wrapped around your lower back. When you were seconds away from losing your breath, you finally broke the kiss. Opening your eyes to look at him, you couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. He'd kissed you back.

"I thought I told you to stop apologizing so much. Especially, when you haven't done anything wrong," Renjun scolded you politely.

You opened your mouth to argue, but when you realized your immediate response would have been another 'I'm sorry', you closed it. A second later, you came up with a different reply.

"I guess you'll have to discipline me, then," you huffed in a challenge.

"Dumbass," Renjun flicked your forehead.

"Hey!" you complained with a pout. "That hurts."

"What do you want me to do? Kiss it better?" Renjun gave an unamused look.

"That doesn't sound like such a bad idea," you mumbled, not expecting him to actually...kiss your forehead. But he did. And damn your knees for threatening to give out.

"Feel better yet?"

You nodded enthusiastically.

"Get inside already," Renjun tickled your sides, nudging you in the direction of your door.

"You want to get rid of me so badly?"

"No, but we can stand here forever if you don't," he rolled his eyes.

"Do you want me to invite you in?"

"Don't tempt me and go," he was impossible to sway.

"Okay, okay," you relented. "See you tomorrow, Renjun!"

For your third date Renjun suggested something different. While your first and second date had all taken place in public locations, this time he offered going to his place. And maybe the shock on your face was too obvious, because Renjun was quick to keep talking and almost take it back.

"We don't have to if you don't want to! We can just watch something at the cinema or whatever. Forget I mentioned it if you're uncomfortable."

You quickly shook your head.

"No, no, I do want to come over! I was just...not expecting it."

"Yeah? You sure?"

"A hundred per cent," you nodded excitedly.

"Sorry to break it to you, but I'm at two hundred per cent," Renjun teased.

"It's not a competition," you reminded him.

"It's not if I'm winning," he kept playing around.

You rolled your eyes.

"So what are we watching?" you asked.

"You can't go wrong with Harry Potter, am I right?"

"You are so right," you squealed. "Which house are you in?"

"Don't get me started. Sometimes I get Ravenclaw, sometimes Slytherin, it's a mess."

"That's pretty cool, though," you were practically staring at him with heart eyes at this point.

"You're a Hufflepuff, aren't you?"

"Am I so transparent?" you complained, this line becoming something of a running gag between the two of you.

"Cute," he mumbled under his breath and you blushed, not managing to maintain eye contact.

When the time arrived for you to go to Renjun's place, you were more excited rather than nervous. He was so easy to talk to and you were genuinely making so many wonderful memories that you had made it your mission to not waste any second worrying needlessly.

"I have arrived," you announced the obvious as you stood at his door.

"I can see that," Renjun chuckled. "Come on in."

"I wasn't sure if I should bring something so I bought some pizza on the way. It's still hot, so I hope you're hungry," you said as you followed him inside like a puppy.

"Oh, that's very thoughtful. And I always have enough space left for pizza."

You grinned and the minute you put the box on the table and your arms were free, you wrapped them around Renjun in a hug.

"You're so warm," you murmured against his skin.

He kissed the top of your head swiftly. Soon after, the two of you were too busy re-watching Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, eating pizza and holding hands to talk much. Once the movie was over, you realized how badly you didn't want to go home and how cozy leaning your head on Renjun's shoulder felt. And how much you liked him and couldn't stop thinking about his hands, his smile and his overall existence.

"Do you want to go home already?" Renjun asked the dreaded question.

"I mean, not really, but I don't wanna impose myself on you," you whispered.

"Don't be so formal," Renjun replied. "Just stay a little longer."

"Yayyy!" you were quite overjoyed and kissed his cheek. "What do you want to do?"

"Hm, I don't know. I could give you a tour around the place."

"Sure, that sounds fun," you immediately agreed.

"Don't get your hopes up, it's just a regular college guy's apartment."

"I'm sure I'll be amazed by every little detail."

"Even my socks?"

"Especially your socks," you joked.

As he showed you around his apartment, you couldn't help but be amazed by how Renjun-like everything was. From the snug kitchen to his art supplies scattered around. Every corner made the atmosphere feel extremely homey. Until you saw something that you hadn't expected, something that hadn't come up in conversation before. A stunning grand piano. You looked at the instrument and then at Renjun and finally, back at the piano.

"Do you play?"

"No, I just keep things like that as an accessory," he responded sarcastically. "Of course, I play."

"Can you...no, wait," you stopped yourself before making a similar mistake to the one you made a while ago. "Will you play something for me?"

"Right now?"

"If it's not too much trouble," you gave him the very best pleading look you were capable of.

Renjun sighed reluctantly and sat down on the bench in front of the piano.

"Don't just stand there awkwardly, sit next to me," he urged you courteously.

You followed his advice and took the free spot. However, nothing could have possibly prepared you for witnessing Renjun's skills up-close. Watching him play was like magic. You were simply in awe and couldn't help but stare at his pretty fingers hitting the keys in just the right ways. When he was finished performing the piece, you were too frozen to do anything. Couldn't even manage to clap, even though he deserved it so much. But you were too transfixed by his playing and those damn hands of his you couldn't possibly move.

"Earth to Y/N?" Renjun went as far as snapping his fingers right in front of your face.

"Huh?" you let out.

"Did I enchant you or what?"

"I think you did," you chuckled. "Just...wow. You're insanely good."

He looked away bashfully.

"Thanks. It just takes practice."

"Nah, I've heard people play before but what you have is different. So pure and genuine. Like a blessing. And I'm not just saying that because I think I'm falling in love with you. I really mean every word."

"Care to repeat that?"

"I really mean..." you started, still not registering what exactly you'd said. How far you'd gone. What you couldn't take back.

"Before that," Renjun reminded you gently. "You know. The part about falling in love with me."

"Shit. I was thinking out loud again, wasn't I?" you asked dumbly. "It's too early for that, I know. I'm really sorry. Let's just pretend I said nothing and forget about it, yeah?"

In your panic, you jumped up from the bench and were about to escape like a coward but Renjun grabbed your hand before you could take another step.

"I think I'm falling in love with you, too," he said.

"W-what?" you stammered.

"And I don't care about whether it's too early or not. And I'm not going to pretend I didn't hear it. So the question is...what are you going to do about that?"

"Me? What...am I supposed to do?"

"What you want to do," Renjun clarified.

"Um...I want to keep falling in love with you, Renjun. And holding your pretty hands. Spending time with you. Listening to your angelic voice. What I want...is for you to be my boyfriend."

"I thought I already was."

"You were?"

"We went on a couple of dates...we kissed...Haven't I made it obvious enough?"

"Oh, right," you chuckled. "Sorry."

"Say that word one more time, I dare you," Renjun slowly ran a finger down your lips.

"S-sorry?" you had to test his patience. Before you could argue, he kissed you fiercely, wrapping his palms around your cheeks. You were drowning beneath his touch, which was ridiculous, considering he was also setting your lips on fire. You figured if saying sorry too much was going to end up like this, you would be a fool not to take advantage of it.

"Pretty angel," Renjun whispered against your mouth. "My pretty angel."

You were practically melting and the only thing holding you together were Renjun's arms.

"For fear of sounding lame, I'm inclined to say your pretty angel's almost as pretty as you. Key word: almost," you giggled, recalling your earliest attempts at flirting with him.

"Lies," Renjun shook his head.

"Hey, it worked the first time!" you pouted.

"It only worked because you're the pretty one," Renjun ruffled your hair playfully.

"Oh my God, shut up," you covered your face to hide how red it was.

"Never."

The End

#nct #renjun #nct dream #renjun x reader #nct fluff #renjun fluff #hwang renjun #nct romance #hwang renjun x reader #college au #writing

123 notes · View notes

charmingyong · 3 years

Text

Sukidesu

Genre: local!Yuta x tourist!reader (gender neutral), fluff, a dash of angst

Warnings: none

Word count: 1.9k

Plot: You went on a solo trip to Japan after your friend backed out, despite the fact that you barely knew Japanese as you were relying on your friend to be your translator. Thankfully, a local boy helped you out with his limited vocabulary in English.

A/N: in loving memory of my japan trip that got cancelled last year (eff you covid!!) Please let me know if there are any issues with the gender-neutral assignment.

gif: mine

- ❀ -

“I’m really so so sorry, Y/N. I feel so bad,” Aeri said over the phone.

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine. And I’m always down for a challenge.”

Aeri being the one who planned the trip was upset that her boss decided to be rude and have her come in for work, stressing about her presence being needed to handle a very important client. “I swear, I would have handed my resignation letter if it weren’t for the good pay.”

You rolled your eyes at her words. “Don’t say that. I’m sure we can go again together in the future.”

“Yeah, but are you really okay going alone? You don’t even know any Japanese except for like four words or something.”

She was right. You had only picked up a few words from the handful of anime shows you watched, not to mention that you knew nothing on how to read any of the writing systems. “I have the translator ready on my phone. I should be fine.” Though your confidence wavered the last second before hearing the boarding announcement of your flight, you tried to remain strong and think that everything would all work out. “It’s time for me to go now. I’ll text you when I get there.”

- ❀ -

[Memory one]

You let out a long sigh as you stared at the foreign characters on the menu board, never learning any of the Japanese writing systems. The lady owner patiently waited for you to give her your order.

“I… I don’t know,” you muttered, your head hanging low. Anything would do as long as it filled your stomach and was an authentic local specialty.

“Um hello?”

You heard from behind you. Turning around, you found a boy giving you a shy look. “Oh hi,” you politely greeted back with a confused look.

He shifted on his feet. “I uh... you help?” he offered with an unsure tone as he struggled a bit with his broken English.

“You want to help me?”

He nodded.

You smiled gratefully. “Thank you so much! I just want anything good and will add to my experience here.”

“Good?” The boy picked up and said, “I...” and lost his words before pointing at him and then at the owner.

“Oh, you want to order for me?”

He hesitated but nodded eventually when hearing ‘for me.’ “Yes.” The boy turned to the lady, placing an order with two fingers held up. The lady smiled and quickly got to work preparing the round fried food, and soon enough handed two plates of takoyaki to each of you.

You thanked her and took a bit of it with your chopsticks, eyes going wide with the flavour bursting in your mouth. “Woah! This is really good!” you beamed happily at him. “Thank you so much! And oh, I almost forgot. I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself with a wide grin.

He mirrored it back, making him look like an angel with his healing smile. “I Yuta.”

- ❀ -

[Memory two]

“So cool,” you uttered under your breath as your eyes wandered around the vast array of Japanese sandals on the walls.

Too busy deciding which style to go for, you didn’t hear another customer enter the small traditional shop until they spoke your name.

“Y/N?” The voice was familiar, and you twirled around to see Yuta’s smile grow, relieved that he guessed you right.

“Oh! Yuta!” you smiled back. “It’s nice to see you again.”

He nodded in agreement. “Yes. How... are you?”

“I’m great, except...” your eyes traveled back to the wall.

His face fell slightly in worry. “What wrong?”

You shook your head. “Nothing bad. I just don’t know which pair to buy. They all look so good,” you pointed to the variety of sandals.

He hummed and asked, “Can I help?”

You blinked at him. “You want to?” An opinion from the local cute boy was definitely something you’d be down for.

His pearly whites were on full display as he nodded eagerly. “Yes.”

- ❀ -

[Memory three]

Just as your eyes were fixed on observing the cute little souvenirs on the shelves, you heard a series of loud knocks on the window and you jumped, being startled greatly by it. You looked out the window and found a familiar Japanese boy peeking into the shop, laughing happily when he caught your attention. He backed off to make his way into the shop.

“Yuta, you scared me there,” you laughed it off.

He sheepishly apologized. “Sorry.”

Shaking your head, you said “It’s okay. But it’s nice to see you, once again.”

He nodded and was lost in his thoughts for a moment. “Um Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“You alone?”

You nodded. “Yeah, my friend couldn’t come, and I really wanted to explore Japan. So I came alone.”

He took in your words, his brain on full gear to process them. “Can I help?”

“Help? Like how?”

He pointed at himself. “I... uh travel... you...”

It took you a few seconds before you were able to grasp his thought. “Do you want to be my tour guide and show me around here?”

“Ah! Yes. Your tour guide,” he beamed excitedly like a little child who learned a new word.

That sounded like a great idea. While you had the itinerary that you and your friend prepared, you weren’t dead set on doing everything list there as long as you were able to enjoy your time and explore to your heart’s content. After all, you were going to come back anyway with your friend in the future. And a plus point with having Yuta as a guide, you wouldn’t be struggling with your limited Japanese ability.

You nodded, your lips curling up joyfully. “I’d love that.”

- ❀ -

[Memory four]

“Yuta? Where’s-”

You had probably asked the Japanese boy a million things by now when shopping inside the variety store. Before Yuta became your traveling buddy, you had to rely on capturing the Japanese writings on your phone and have the texts translated via an app. Not to mention having to stroll down the aisles endlessly looking for a particular thing.

He showed you the ramen cups of interest as well as recommended some face masks, cleansing tissues, and sweet treats, especially matcha flavoured. “This good,” he pointed out.

You hummed curiously and put them all in your basket. “Thanks, Yuta. You’re a lifesaver.”

His ears perked up at the thought of him ‘saving your life’ and smiled proudly.

- ❀ -

[Memory five]

“You sure you’re doing it right?” you asked worriedly.

Getting lost in Japan was not on your to-do list. But it was fine to as long as you weren’t alone.

Yuta was trying to figure out how to get the tickets printed at the Kyoto Station. “Long time,” he chuckled nervously.

Going around Kyoto was apparently something he hadn’t done in a while being an Osaka man. You shrugged, “Looks like this will be an experience for both of us,” you joked.

He managed to have gotten the right tickets and you two sat in the train side by side. “Kyoto pretty,” he commented. “Very good,” he added with thumbs up.

The train began moving and you by the window made sure to pay attention to the scenery.

“Wow! The cherry blossoms are so beautiful under the blue sky,” you chatted cheerfully. “And those houses look so pretty,” you gushed, getting anime vibes from how neighbourhoods looked in them.

Yuta watched you getting excited over the sceneries, and was pleased to show you something that wasn’t on your itinerary in the first place.

- ❀ -

[Memory six]

Yuta watched you closely as you licked the matcha soft serve in hand.

You let the cold cream swirl around your tongue and hummed. “Wow, this is nice!”

He beamed, squealing as he clapped his hands from the happiness. “Yes,” he exclaimed. “My favourite,” he pointed to your cone.

The cream got stuck in your throat and you choked a little. His eyes grew concerned and asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah yeah, don’t worry. It’s just... you look so cute when you get happy like that,” you spoke a little shy.

He blushed deeply and looked away, a smile threatening to tug at his lips from hearing you call him cute.

- ❀ -

[Memory seven]

Ferris wheel.

The perfect way to end your trip by looking out into the nighttime view of Yuta’s hometown.

He sat across from you as you curiously looked at every lighting in the city. “Wow, it’s all so really beautiful, Yuta,” you breathed out.

His smile wasn’t his usual one. It was more forced, almost sad and you noticed it.

“What’s wrong?”

He shook out of his thoughts and said, “Nothing. Um... you like Japan?”

A fond smile took over your features. “Yes, very much. It’s all thanks to you, Yuta.” Your heart started aching at the memories made during your trip. If it weren’t for him, you would have struggled to get through with the littlest things.

He hummed and gave you a courteous smile before fixing his eyes out the transparent windows of the cart, silently willing himself to not tear up in front of you.

- ❀ -

[Memory eight]

Tears threatened to spill out of your eyes as you became emotional and super grateful standing in front of your personal Japan tour guide for one last time at the airport.

“Thank you so much for all your help, Yuta. It was really nice meeting you,” you smiled sorrowfully. Truth being told, you were sad that you had to say goodbye to an amazing friend made on your beautiful journey. “Let’s keep in touch. You have my contact, right?”

He nodded. “Yes. Um Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

Yuta dug his hand inside his pocket and pulled out a cherry blossom keychain. “For you,” he said, holding it out for to take.

You were speechless, not expecting a gift from him. “For me? Why?”

He was quiet for a moment before speaking up. “I like you.” His confession caught you by surprise. “I hope you come back. I... I hope we still talk...” he trailed off, doubting himself if he said the right thing at the wrong time, considering it was minutes before you’d have to catch your flight.

Slowly, your head nodded to his words, confirming them all. “We will. We will keep in touch, I’ll come back again. And I like you too,” you spoke sincerely with soft eyes.

- ❀ -

You reminisced the beautiful memories made in Japan with Yuta. It had been almost a year and the two of you were in frequent touch, talking about anything and everything in your video calls. You even learned some Japanese while he worked on improving his English.

While your eyes were focused on glancing at all the people sitting in the cafe, the door chimed open and in walked the Japanese boy that you had been waiting forever to see again.

He spotted you immediately and made a straight beeline towards you. “Y/N!” He beamed excitedly. “I’m so happy to see you again!”

You laughed at his cuteness. “Same, and you’ve gotten better speaking English.”

“All thanks to my beautiful English teacher,” he flirted boldly.

You rolled your eyes playfully at him and asked, “So Yuta, are you ready to explore my country?”

#cznnet #nct #nct 127 #yuta #nakamoto yuta #nct yuta #yuta x reader #nct x reader #yuta fluff #yuta scenarios #yuta imagines #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct imagines #charm

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jasontoddiefor · 3 years

Text

Title: infinitely varied Ship: obikin Summary: Sometimes your husband decides to develop an artificial intelligence capable of free choice and something called a soul and succeeds in the middle of a Thursday night. Or, more concretely: he's in the middle of succeeding because said intelligence first has to learn how to speak.Also known as Obi-Wan and Anakin teach a tiny program called A.H.S.O.K.A. how to be something more than lines of code via the power of linguistics. AN: Happy birthday @ghostwriterofthemachine

Language is a process of free creation; its laws and principles are fixed, but the manner in which the principles of generation are used is free and infinitely varied. Even the interpretation and use of words involves a process of free creation.

Noam Chomsky

Life was a query of expectations, margins on doorframes, bucket lists, first loves, broken hearts, and happy middles because only fools would settle for a happy ending when they had so many decades left to live. The thought never failed to bring a smile to Anakin’s face, no matter how frustrated, remembering the simple way Obi-Wan had proposed. There had been no fancy dinner, particularly stunning outing, or anything resembling outlandish romantic gestures. Anakin would have appreciated them because every act would have been colored by Obi-Wan’s love, but now, older and wiser than the rash youth who’s fallen in love at first heated debate, he preferred the way their proposal had actually gone down. A quiet Sunday morning, eating breakfast together on the sofa while the news droned in the background from Anakin’s old radio, a hesitant “I don’t need forever, but I want the present”.

And, well, for all his genius, Anakin could be a bit of an idiot sometimes, but not when it came to this.

Married life was interesting.

Somehow nothing changed, except also everything. They had bought a real house, moved out of their old apartment and made more compromises than Anakin had ever thought himself capable of, for they hadn’t been like fighting an uphill battle but dancing together. It had made him happy to paint the entrance hall in the shade of green Obi-Wan preferred if he got to paint the kitchen in the light blue he wanted.

Obi-Wan got the attic for his office where his antique book collection looked right at home, and Anakin got the basement where the hum of his servers and the generator powering them annoyed nobody else.

It was as close to white-picket-fence as it could be with two queer men, no kids, a bratty cat, and an anxious dog under one roof. His childhood self would be appalled to see how much Anakin, always the whirlwind, had settled. To a nine-year-old, Anakin probably looked very adult.

Anakin, however, did not feel very grown-up, banging his head against his desk in the middle of the night. Obi-Wan had gone to sleep hours ago, and so had Anakin until inspiration had struck and he’d snuck out of bed to return to his favorite project.

A.H.S.O.K.A may not be a child, but Anakin certainly could relate to exhausted parents when they complained about their children in endless repetitions. To this day, Anakin didn’t know why his mother figured it would be great parenting to encourage her WarGames obsessed kid to dig into the world of artificial intelligence when WOPR nearly started a nuclear war, but he’d forever remain thankful.

Or, he’d resume being thankful when he could finally get A.H.S.O.K.A to learn. He’d rewritten her code a thousand times. It was his ever-constant companion, from his first awful-looking early 2000s website to its current incarnation. A.H.S.O.K.A could solve simple logic puzzles, given that he fed her enough data. Her solutions to tasks could be downright hilarious, but they were not enough. He wanted her to be smarter, better, capable of gaining true understanding.

Perhaps, it was a dream for the future and not a Thursday night.

Anakin didn’t have any work tomorrow morning as he worked as a freelancer, so he could afford to pull an all-nighter. But his dear husband had planned a nice afternoon for them, so Anakin should call it a night or a morning as a glance at the clock told him.

Staring at the many lines of code again, Anakin sighed and leaned back in his chair and took another sip of his by-now cold tea. Obi-Wan would definitely complain that Anakin had snatched his favorite mug once he got up and couldn’t find it in the kitchen. Anakin had bought it at the last linguistic convention Obi-Wan had taken him to.

Language is a process of free invention, it read in delicate cursive before the rest of the quote disassembled in pure chaos.

Huh.

Now there was a thought. Anakin got out of his chair and left the basement, haunted by fixed principles and infinite combinations. Up in the attic, carrying Obi-Wan’s computer downstairs again, Anakin thought on interpretations and free creations. He was as giddy and nervous as he’d been on the morning of his wedding day, which had started similarly early. Connecting Obi-Wan’s computer, and more importantly, the priced result of his thesis, to Anakin’s server felt a little like unwrapping birthday presents.

language_acquisition_prediction.exe

Enter.

II.

Obi-Wan was not surprised when he woke to an empty bed. Anakin had a habit of suddenly pulling all-nighters or getting up early before the sun even thought of rising. Given that he couldn’t smell breakfast yet, Obi-Wan deduced that Anakin had pulled an all-nighter again. He slowly crawled out of bed to avoid disturbing Artoo and Threepio sleeping to his feet. Obi-Wan was pretty sure he shared his bed more often with his pets than he did with his husband.

He walked down the stairs to the ground level and went by the kitchen to prepare himself a cup of tea. To his displeasure, Obi-Wan couldn’t find his favorite mug and so had to settle for another. After another thought, he decided to make a second one for Anakin, lavender this time so Anakin would hopefully crash after breakfast. He put both mugs on a small tray together with a couple tomatoes. Obi-Wan usually wasn’t one for eating a full breakfast on workdays – that was the influence of Anakin and his mother’s kitchen – but he was the expert in smalltime snacks. With both in hand, he walked down the second flight of stairs, down to the basement. As expected, he found Anakin at his desk, clinging to what was bound to be a cold cup, staring intensely at his screens, which were running one program or another.

“Good morning,” Obi-Wan greeted him and kissed Anakin’s cheek.

“Mo-orning,” Anakin replied, a yawn interrupting him halfway. “Wait, what time is it?”

“Eight,” Obi-Wan said. “How long have you been up?”

“Uuuh.” Obi-Wan didn’t need to see Anakin’s face to know the answer. “Did you even go to sleep?”

“I did sleep for a while!” Anakin argued. “But then I had an idea, I mean, look at this!”

Obi-Wan gave the screens a closer look. Despite common misconceptions, he was not technically illiterate. Privately, he blamed the fact that Anakin was quite well known for his tech know-how and Obi-Wan tended to talk more about literature given that he was filling in as a lecturer in the British Lit. department. Nevertheless, Obi-Wan had gotten his professorship with a program he’d written, and the code currently displayed on the screens looked very similar to a section that had given him stress nightmares. “Is that my thesis?” he asked.

“Yes, sorta, partially?” Anakin replied. “I kind of took it apart a lot and maybe corrupted it a bit, but that’s not the important part! Look what she’s doing with it.”

She could only refer to one person, intelligence. There were a few constants in their life, their new house the most recent one, and Ahsoka was probably the longest. Obi-Wan didn’t know why Anakin hadn’t set her aside already, he was happy enough to leave other started-never-finished projects lying around, but the last time he’d even just suggested such, Anakin had looked heartbroken.

Obi-Wan looked at the screen Anakin was pointing at and began to read.

script input: inhibition auditory input 1 designation skyguy: /ˌɪn.ɪˈbɪʃ.ən/ auditory input 2 designation professor: /ˌɪn.hɪˈbɪʃ.ən/ analysis: mismatch diagnosis: outstanding

script input: better auditory input 1 designation skyguy: /ˈbet̬.ɚ/ auditory input 2 designation professor: /ˈbet.ər/ analysis: mismatch diagnosis: rhoticism? query: define

The text continued for a while, though apparently Ahsoka only picked out the mismatched parts in her analysis.

“Is that ‘Must have done something right’?” Obi-Wan asked, the connection between the words suddenly starting to make sense.

“Yes!” Anakin grinned. “I wasn’t quite sure how to teach her sounds properly because I hadn’t equipped her with a sound analysis program before and I figured that if babies just learn by listening to their parents, Ahsoka could learn by listening to us.”

“So you fed her audio of us singing?” Obi-Wan wasn’t sure whether to be impressed, confused, or just plain tired but decided to settle on confusion for now and let the course of the conversation determine where they’d end up.

“That too, but I actually just started by playing old voice messages. I figured getting her used to just one phonetic inventory would be enough for now. Honestly, for the first hour, I wasn’t even sure whether that would be of any use because she had no symbols to connect the sounds to, and I thought using the IPA might bias her.”

Because, of course, Anakin never deleted any of Obi-Wan’s voice messages and just kept them on his phone. The fact that he just glossed over it as if it weren’t anything special either made Obi-Wan smile.

“It’s cute that you think we have the same inventory,” Obi-Wan commented. “But continue. You just let her listen to sounds and then? Don’t tell me you gave her written texts.”

Anakin rolled his eyes and confirmed another one of Ahsoka’s queries before answering. “No, I gave her the IPA then and let her listen to the full inventory and then analyze which ones we use.”

That made enough sense. Obi-Wan was reasonably sure it was a great deal more complicated than Anakin was lying it out right now, but it was still within the realm of possible and not downright sci-fi. There were enough programs that could analyze speech and filter out patterns, recognize even emotions and tone. Feeding data to a computer wasn’t too different from the way babies learned, though, as far as Obi-Wan knew from talking to people with children, they didn’t like their progeny being compared to lines of code.

“And you accomplished this by feeding my thesis program, which is meant to predict the language acquisition of children, to Ahsoka?”

“Yes, that, uh, happened more or less,” Anakin said, his nose scrunched up just so that Obi-Wan knew he wasn’t certain. “I’m pretty sure I like, wrote some of it down. Not all of it because I knocked out at like 4 a.m., which resulted in pretty interesting inquiries on the great vowel shift.”

Obi-Wan froze. “She’s asking about the great vowel shift?”

There was a difference in the size of the Atlantic between analyzing sounds and recognizing a six-hundred-year-old change in pronunciation.

“Not really,” Anakin said. “She just noticed the patterns? And had inquiries? We’ve been following up on it since, mostly by also giving her written text, but I think that might have backfired and confused her a bit. I’m thinking of synching up the input with a visible feed so she’d learn to associate an actual object with the sound, but I’m not sure whether that wouldn’t just lead to her matching data instead of actually learning its relevance. Can teach an AI what an apple looks like, sounds like, tastes like, but that doesn’t mean you can teach it what an apple is and all that.”

Anakin smiled impishly, and unfortunately, despite his generally messy appearance, Obi-Wan still thought he was handsome. “Please don’t cite my book back at me like that.”

Closing his eyes for a moment and pinching his nose, Obi-Wan tried to focus. This was not how he expected to start his free day. He needed to wake up and possibly grab his notes to sort out this mess. This almost made him wish the car was still wrecked and Anakin would spend all his free time fixing that. “Did you have to start her on English of all languages?”

Anakin was fluent in two other romance languages; it would have been much easier to deal with a French AI than an English one. Sighing, Obi-Wan looked at Ahsoka’s latest question and promptly frowned.

script input: bear auditory input: /beər/ match found: bare analysis: mismatch diagnosis: failed word formation query: bear = bare? query: deletion >bare<?

“How long has she been doing that?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Doing what— oh, that’s new.”

So Ahsoka had jumped from matching sounds to text to comparing sound to words and then referencing those words against one another. That was a logical step, but also a step Obi-Wan wasn’t quite sure she should be doing without prompting.

“She thinks bear and bare are related because they have the same sound. Didn’t really expect that turn of events. Should I show her those are two different words?”

“Does she even know what a word is yet?” Obi-Wan asked in turn.

“No.”

“Then teach her what a word is first— after breakfast. I want your pancakes.”

“You never want pancakes on a Friday.”

“My husband also never decided to rope me into teaching an artificial intelligence morphology before.”

Obi-Wan needed a proper meal for this. He could talk to his students on an empty stomach, but he could not deal with the latest brand of Skywalker insanity without something sweet first.

“I haven’t—”

Ever the negotiator, Obi-Wan decided to shut Anakin up with a kiss. “After breakfast.”

Ahsoka’s many questions could wait for an hour.

#star wars #obikin #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #anakin skywalker #fanfic

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andypantsx3 · 4 years

Text

if i could keep cool | 4

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 20,322 words / 6 chapters

summary: A villain attacks Shouto Todoroki’s apartment and kidnaps what he apparently believes to be Todoroki’s secret lover. The bad news—for both you and the villain in question—is that you’re just there to clean the place. That’s how it starts.

tags: romance, reader-insert, accidental sugar daddy shouto, misunderstandings

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

There was no other word for it. Todoroki was a menace.

Though his schedule seemed to return to something approximating normal, he was still in the apartment often enough that you began to anticipate him being there. Even when he wasn’t, however, he made life difficult enough for you by leaving behind gifts, with progressively more disappointed notes if you didn’t take them. You didn’t know how it was possible to convey that flat tone in the shape of his letters, but you could practically hear it as you read them over.

Worse, he seemed to know exactly which of your weak points to exploit to get you to want the gifts--leaving you several more books, a bag of the really nice coffee beans from the coffee shop you’d told him about, and a sinfully soft scarf as the weather turned colder. When you continued to ignore the insane amount of money he seemed to think passed for a tip, fresh vegetables started cropping up on the countertops with notes that said things like I’m not going to eat these, if you don’t take them they will be wasted to guilt you into compliance.

A month into it, an entire grocery order started showing up every Thursday shift. My refrigerator is full so don’t try to stuff any of this in there, his note commanded.

He was a master of manipulation, it seemed, and to what end you didn’t know. You made mental notes to not mention any further likes during your conversations, but when he was there, Todoroki’s conversation was so easy and so natural, he continued to pull all the details out of you with ease.

So things you really, really liked kept turning up. And as you talked to him, Todoroki was turning into a thing that you really, really liked as well.

It was overwhelming.

The final straw was a Friday afternoon when you hit up the fancy coffee shop just outside campus. You walked in with the extra money you’d saved up not buying your own groceries, and the vague idea that you would get a head start on an upcoming paper. And then, the barista very obviously glanced between you and a sheet of paper taped to a corner of the register, and refused to let you pay for your order.

“Your order is free!” she chirped cheerfully.

You stared. “What?”

“It’s already taken care of!” she said, and immediately, a cloud of suspicion settled over you.

“What’s the occasion?” you asked.

She smiled. “The occasion is someone already paid for you!”

You glanced around the coffee shop, but you could find nothing but a few unfamiliar students purusing books or churning out work on their respective laptops. You turned back to her.

“And if I were to walk into this coffee shop tomorrow, would the occasion also be that someone already paid for me?”

She nodded. “Yes! All your future orders are paid for, please come as often as you like!”

You gaped at her, and she cheerfully stuffed your coffee into your hands. Then you glared down at the white paper cup accusingly, and it stared back at you, looking like one half of a certain menace’s hair color.

Oh, he was in for it.

You stalked over to a table and whipped out your cell phone, shooting off a message so fast your fingers practically burned.

todoroki what the hell

To your surprise, you received a reply almost immediately.

It’s Shouto.

Like hell it was.

first names are for friends, not psychopaths. did you really pay for all of my future orders at the coffee shop?

Is this your first time there this month? he answered. Where do you usually go?

You stared at your phone. He’d done this a month ago? Also, no way you were telling him your budget spot where you picked up lukewarm bean water when you couldn’t afford four dollar americanos. The last thing you needed was for him to buy them out, too.

You got to your feet, marching back over to the barista.

She smiled. “Back for something else?”

“Yeah, how do I cancel the all my orders are paid for thing?” you asked. “Can you just delete whatever info he left you and charge me from now on?”

She looked you up and down. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

She stared, then leaned in to whisper. “You do know who paid for all your orders, right? Are you actually sure you want to cancel?”

A migraine started in your temples. Had Todoroki actually come in here himself to give his information? Was he trying to get you caught up in the secret lover bullshit that was still swirling in the media?

“I’m extra sure,” you smiled, then went back to your table, satisfied.

No sooner than you had dug out your laptop, though, when your phone buzzed. You looked down at the name on the screen and paled. Todoroki was way easier to deal with via text when you couldn’t hear that low, smooth tone directly in your ear. His face and his voice were absolutely fucking mind-melting, and it would be hard to maintain your stubborn stance even in the face of just one.

Still, though, this was the last straw.

“How many times do I have to tell you that friendship is free?” you hissed quietly as you picked up.

“They told me you tried to cancel,” he said flatly, and your head whipped up to glare at the barista accusingly. She smiled.

“Todoroki--”

“Shouto,” he said.

“Fine, Shouto,” you said, “It’s been a month and maybe I let you get the wrong idea by accepting all of the vegetables and everything, but this ends here. I told you that it doesn’t cost anything to be friends with me, and you had better stop apologizing. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but--”

“Then do,” he said simply.

“What?”

“Then just appreciate it,” he answered. His voice was somehow even lower on the phone and a shiver went down your spine, despite your frustration with him. “Just accept them. Why is it so bad if a friend gives you things?”

God, he was such a rich boy, wasn’t he?

“Shouto, I do appreciate it,” you said. “But I don’t need any of that. And I know that you know this isn’t necessary--I highly doubt that you are buying Midoriya all of his weekly coffees or draping Bakugou in soft scarves. All you need to be friends with me is to just hang out, the same way you do them.”

Shouto was quiet a moment. “Hang out,” he finally said, slowly, like he was tasting the words in his mouth. Then, “Are you free right now?”

“W-what?” you managed.

“You don’t have class right now, right? Your last lecture just let out.”

You were surprised that he remembered your class schedule. Just how much had you told him?

“Uh, yeah?” you asked.

“Good, stay where you are. We’re hanging out,” he pronounced the words like they were foreign on his tongue, then hung up.

You stared down at your phone in shock. He wanted to hang out with you? Like, outside of his apartment?

There was no arguing the two of you got along relatively well, now that the threat of your crazy fandom and the weight of his mistake no longer hung over your relationship. You talked easily enough the one or two times you saw him during any given week. But so far your interactions had been somewhat limited, confined to the familiar space of his apartment and limited to the time that you had to be there. You texted a little outside of that, but you’d never just casually hung out.

Then the weight of his words really hit you. He was coming here? To the coffee shop? In full view of your entire campus? Was he insane?

You ran through a mental checklist of things in your bag that could be used to disguise him but came up short. You didn’t know exactly what he planned to look like when he put in an appearance here, but you were not interested in fanning the flames of the secret lover garbage that was still all over twitter and splashed across the glossy pages of the magazines at the grocery store.

You shot to your feet and threw your bag over your shoulder, then ran out the door, dashing for the campus shop that sat just outside the student center. You blew through the door and dove straight for the apparel section, grabbing the least heinous hat that looked like it would cover most of Shouto’s distinctive hairstyle while also drawing the least amount of attention to its wearer. You also helped yourself to a plain pair of sunglasses that would probably be kind of inappropriate in the fall weather, but would go a long way in hiding his eyes and that scar.

Why did he insist on having so many distinguishing features? Would it kill him to have dark hair and dark eyes like most of the rest of the earth’s population?

You threw the items and a wad of bills down on the register counter, then paused. A few small, slightly-wilted looking bouquets of flowers sprouted from buckets just beside the register in the colors of your university. You didn’t know what the colors or type of the flowers were supposed to mean, and they probably didn’t give off exactly the message you wanted to send, but Shouto had gotten you flowers as the first gift he’d ever given you…

You grabbed the least wilted looking bunch and threw them on top of the other items.

The cashier rang you up with all the urgency of a sloth, and you tapped your foot nervously as you waited. How was Shouto getting here? How long would it take him? Would he be at the coffee shop already?

You stuffed the flowers into your bag, then launched yourself out of the campus shop like a rocket, catching that mop of red and white hair just outside the entrance to the coffee shop. You put on a burst of speed and managed to jam the baseball cap down over his head before he pulled open the door. He turned to you in surprise.

“Y/N,” he said.

“Yes, hi, hello,” you managed while also trying to ram the sunglasses onto his face.

He let out a small huff of amusement. “What are you doing?”

“What you should have done before coming here, you absolute wackjob,” you said, finally managing to slip the shades over his high-bridged nose without poking his eyes out.

Shouto let you manhandle him to your liking, until his face and hair were mostly hidden under your university merchandise.

“Okay, you should be good now,” you said, looking him over. He still stood out, honestly, too tall and outrageously handsome, even covered up as he was. The sweater and well-fitting jeans he’d chosen would still draw anyone’s gaze straight to his trim figure, but it would have to do.

“We can’t go inside, though, you’ll look too shady with the cap and glasses,” you said. “We need to go somewhere outdoors.”

He stared down at you, one eyebrow lifted over the top of his sunglasses. “It’s fall.”

You thought for a moment.

“How do you feel about izakaya?” you asked. “There’s a street-side one not far from here that’s mostly outdoors. They’re good, and I think they’re still open.”

He nodded. “Do you go there often?”

You eyed him. “Oh no. If I tell you places I go, you apparently buy them out. The whole point of you being here is to prove that buying me things is stupid when we can just hang out.”

The corner of his mouth twitched like he was being told a joke you couldn’t hear. “Lead the way, then,” he said evenly.

You pulled him down a few blocks, expertly navigating your way through the winding city streets. You would never admit as much to him, but this place was one of your faves for good beer and cheap yakitori, and you could probably easily find your way both blindfolded and drunk. Shouto followed you easily, a tall, silent warmth at your back.

There were few people at the izakaya when you arrived, considering it was still a little early for dinner, and no one gave the two of you a second glance when you pulled back the curtains and helped yourselves to pair of stools in the corner of the stall.

“Okay, you have to get a beer and yakitori first," you said. "You can do whatever you want after, but the first round has to be that. Just trust me.”

“No vegetables?” Shouto asked.

You laughed. “I know that’s my brand. And there are good veggie side dishes. But there is nothing like fresh, warm, cheap yakitori and a really good beer, especially on a cool fall day like this. I know what I’m talking about.”

A soft smile pulled at his mouth. “So you do come here often.”

You stared up at him accusingly. “If you dare throw a single dollar at them, you’re in huge trouble. I know where you live.”

He smiled down at you. It was easier to notice how boyish his grin was when the rest of his face was hidden by his sunglasses, and heat flared in your cheeks. He was just so damn good looking.

It suddenly dawned on you how forward you’d been with him, sending him sassy texts and putting your hands all over him when you were attempting to stuff him into your university swag. Your relationship had progressed somewhat since that first book he’d bribed you with, but honestly, this was completely new ground for you.

Your face burned hotter. You’d been so, so inexcusably forward. Had you lost your mind?

Shouto seemed to be thinking about the hat as well. “So, do I look like a student at your university?”

You looked him up and down. Aside from your school’s name emblazoned across his baseball cap, he looked nothing like a student, too put together in his dark sweater and jeans that probably cost more than your monthly rent. You wondered if he’d even been within ten feet of an instant ramen cup in his entire life.

“Uh, no,” you said. “You look like someone forced you to wear a hat they panic purchased and it just so happened to be the least horrible one available.”

A smile played about his mouth again. “What were the other options?”

You grinned. “It was this one or a proud dad of a college grad cap.”

He let out a small huff of amusement. You smiled, then leaned forward as the man at the counter came over to take your order, making sure to cut Shouto off before he could attempt any rich boy tricks. You put in an order for two beers and what was probably a concerning amount of yakitori, then turned back to Shouto and almost fell off your stool when he was much closer than you’d expected.

“Do you have a teleportation quirk I don’t know about?” you asked, internally panicking at his proximity. He was close enough now that you could feel the heat of him and catch the scent of his cologne, light and fresh and disturbingly good.

He smiled that boyish smile again and your heart suddenly forgot how to do its job, freezing in your chest. “It’s cold.”

You rolled your eyes. “You have a fire quirk.”

You felt the air grow a little warmer around the two of you. “I meant for you,” he said.

You were torn between relaxing into the sudden warmth and freezing up in embarrassment. It was beginning to dawn on you just how attentive and thoughtful he always was, and you wondered vaguely if the gift giving was actually just a really extreme manifestation of that personality trait. Maybe being an awkward rich boy with a weird way of making friends was just part of the issue.

Your heartbeat suddenly kicked into overdrive. He was already so overwhelming to look at, incredibly brave, such a good listener, and way too easy to talk to. You did not need to pile on other endearing qualities to the frankly alarming number of things feeding into what was quickly becoming the fattest crush of your lifetime. Did he have to be so good all the time?

A hand suddenly reached out, pulling you closer so that you were practically fused to his left side. You stiffened, resisting the urge to curl into the warmth pouring off of him in thick waves.

Not good, this was so not good.

“Uh, you don’t have to do that,” you said, tongue thick, like you were speaking through a mouthful of applesauce. “I’m wearing the scarf you got me.”

Shouto tilted his head, and though you couldn’t see his expression behind the sunglasses, something like satisfaction curled the corner of his mouth. “Good,” he said in his deep tone, “but this will help too.”

“Really, you’re my friend not my personal space heater,” you insisted, trying to squirm away from him. “You don’t need to do this.”

He flared hotter, and a strong arm went around the back of your chair, halting your escape. “I don’t mind,” he said.

God it was like he didn’t even know what effect he had on people. People, of course, being cleaning ladies with twitters full of zoomed in pictures of his abs. It was not good for your health to be this close to him, couldn’t he just let you sit ten thousand miles away from him where both of you would be a little safer?

The izakaya owner interrupted this train of thought, pushing two beers and a plateful of yakitori between the two of you.

You instantly seized on the distraction, bringing a beer to your mouth to give you a couple moments for your brain to turn on again. It was refreshingly cold, and the flavor was nostalgic, tasting like breaks after class with friends and late nights stumbling back after several rounds of karaoke and drinking. You wondered now if, in the future, you would taste it and think back to the one time you’d hung out with Shouto Todoroki.

“It’s good,” Shouto said, looking at you over the rim of his own beer.

You smiled. “I told you.”

Then you shoved a stick of yakitori at him. “Now eat this and tell me I was right about it too.”

His fingers slid along yours as he took the stick from you, calloused and warm. “...You were right about this too,” he said after managing a bite.

You felt yourself puff up. “Of course I was.”

He smiled and helped himself to the rest. With the food and drink absorbing some of your attention, you were able to calm down somewhat, and the conversation returned to normal, you doing your best to forget about the sinfully warm arm curled around your back.

Here, too, Shouto was absurdly easy to talk to, the new venue doing nothing to dull his charm or the easy way that he pulled information out of you with a few, short, well-placed questions. Over the course of a few hours, you worked your way through a few beers and several more side dishes, the conversation never letting up. Shouto was just as intelligent and thoughtful as ever, and he made you laugh with a couple of unexpectedly short tempered comments. Even the discovery that he was not as princely as he usually seemed just fanned the flames of your crush.

It was only when the people around you began to shuffle off of their stools and pack up that you realized how late it had grown, and that you’d spent the entire evening hanging out and talking.

Shouto helped you off your stool when you stumbled a little, the number of beers you’d consumed suddenly making themselves known. “You’re more of a lightweight than I would have guessed by the conversation,” he teased.

You looked up into his face, realizing that he’d shed the sunglasses at some point during your conversation and you hadn’t noticed. Had anyone else noticed? No one had come over asking for an autograph. Maybe he was so unexpected at a place like this that the hat had been enough of a disguise.

You blinked, realized you’d been staring. “Nonsense, I’m a pro. I’ve put in many more beers at this place.”

Then your eyes narrowed at the slow movement his hand was making along the counter, what looked suspiciously like a stack of bills underneath. That little shit.

“Are you trying to distract me?” you demanded, grabbing his hand and stuffing the money back into it. “This is on me. I haven’t paid for groceries in weeks, thanks to somebody.”

Shouto smirked, looking strangely pleased with himself. His hand curled around yours, and his other came up to take your free hand. It was only when he’d transferred both of your wrists into one large palm that you realized what he was doing, plopping down a handful of bills on the counter quickly with his free hand, then pulling your backpack over your shoulder and tugging you away from the izakaya before you could make a scene. You’d been thoroughly outmaneuvered.

“I’ll take you home,” he said, steering you back out into the street. “Give me your address.”

“Shouto,” you whined, “this whole evening was supposed to be about proving you don’t need to spend money to be my friend. We were supposed to hang out.”

“We did hang out,” he pointed out, looking down at you from under the rim of that ridiculous baseball cap. “Your point was very much made.”

It was a testament to how tipsy you were, probably, that this warmed you. You forgot your annoyance with him almost immediately. “Really?”

He huffed a laugh. “Really. Now give me your address so I can take you home.”

You did and he plugged it into his phone. Then he led you along with one hand curled around yours. You spent the whole walk musing on how warm his fingers were in yours, how much larger his hands seemed than yours. Why was even his stupid hand so nice?

It was only as Shouto walked you to the door of your apartment that you remembered the last thing you’d gotten for him in the campus store. You quickly unzipped your backpack, shoving the bouquet of flowers at him.

“For you,” you said, pressing them into his chest. “You got me those flowers. These ones aren’t as nice, but I thought that you should have some too.”

He stared down at you, something strange glinting in his eyes. “You got me flowers.”

“Do you not like them?” you asked nervously. Was it weird to give a guy flowers? It was probably weird…

“I like them,” he declared, and a genuine smile flickered across his mouth. His eyes looked a little brighter, and his gaze was growing more intent by the second. “Now, you should probably get inside before I forget my manners.”

Forget his manners? You stared up at him in confusion.

He looked down at you for a long moment, and then he was suddenly very close, his face dipping down to yours.

“Get inside,” he said quietly, voice deeper than you’d ever heard it. “Please.”

You nodded, swallowing. You had just enough presence of mind to turn and unlock your door. Shouto guided you gently inside with a hand on your back, and then stepped back outside, smiling.

“I’ll see you on Tuesday,” he said.

You waved. “See you on Tuesday.”

You watched him make his way back down the street, only closing your door when you saw him turn the corner and disappear out of sight. Then you sank down against the door frame, heart feeling like it was going to beat straight out of your chest.

Shouto was the most overwhelming man on this earth. You were in such big trouble.

#shouto todoroki x reader #bnha #todoroki x reader #fanfic #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #shouto todoroki

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five-rivers · 3 years

Note

Oooh, I just saw the big about prompts!

“Blessings of rot and petrichor, my prince. May you have a home in the dark, and may the distant stars you reach for never fade.”

(Can be inspiration or an actual quote; do what ya want! :P)

The world ended on a Saturday, and it wasn’t Danny’s fault. Even if that Saturday happened to be his sixteenth birthday.

Okay, maybe that was a bit overdramatic. But, honestly, neither he nor anyone else he’d ever spoken to knew why or how things had turned out this way. Just that, one morning, reality shook, shuddered, and took a few steps to the left.

Humanity woke to green-streaked skies, a rainbow sun, and a lot more universe than they were used to. So did ghosts.

This was a problem. It might even be deemed the problem. Humans and ghosts didn’t exactly get along, and even when neither the ghosts nor the humans involved particularly wanted to fight, the new laws of nature and the few who did want to fight tended to ruin things for everyone else. (Cough, GIW, cough, Walker, cough.)

Hence the end of the world. Or, at least, most large-scale governments.

It could have been worse.

Amity Park stopped being a city that day, fragmented with Ghost Zone wilderness, landscape and spatial dimensions shattered in a spiderweb centered on Fentonworks, the portal a wellspring of wild power and unpredictable translocations. Danny had worried that the portal had been the cause of the whole thing, but Amity Park was far from the only place with similar issues (look at New York), and Danny eventually was able to accept that not every bad ghost-related thing that happened was on him.

(Probably.)

Honestly, once everything calmed down a bit, the new world was much more comfortable, physically and mentally, for Danny to live in. Which was weird, but made sense. The new world was split between human and ghost, just like him. It was everyone else who was uncomfortable, now.

Which, again, he felt guilty about, but, yeah. He couldn’t do anything about that, so feeling guilty was counterintuitive. Thank you, tiny Jazz in his head.

It was Saturday again. Time for the market fair.

“Mom and Dad are already out?” asked Danny, leaning over the banister.

“Yeah,” said Jazz, not looking up from her work transcribing an old ghost text into something more palatable to human eyes. She adjusted her green lenses to sit closer to her eyes. “An hour or two ago. Some guys from Chicago came in last night, apparently, and they wanted to get a head start.”

“Okay,” said Danny. “I’m going, too. You want anything?”

“Nope. I’d be going myself if I did,” said Jazz.

“You sure? Nothing for dinner?”

“Nope, I’m all set.”

“Cool,” said Danny, padding towards the door. He pulled his nice, dark coat, the one he’d gotten from Dora, off the hook, and shrugged into it, pulling up the hood.

“No shoes today?” asked Jazz, who had finally looked up.

“Eh,” said Danny. “I guess not. Doesn’t really feel like a shoe kind of day.” He flexed his toes.

“Well, avoid blackberries, then,” said Jazz.

“They should avoid me,” joked Danny. “Good luck with that book!”

“Thanks,” said Jazz, waving as Danny left.

Fentonworks was the same tall, brick-and-UFO building as it had always been, but now it stood alone on top of a small hill rising from a distinctly purple forest. The dark grass waved back and forth like the tentacles of a sea anemone. Bright green portal streaks, cracks in reality, stood out against the foliage, along with a few other buildings that had once belonged to the Fentons’ neighborhood. The sun was blue today, but Danny predicted it would be green by nightfall.

Danny walked down the path, the dirt on it declining to adhere to Danny’s feet. He hummed, quietly, a tune he half-remembered from before the apocalypse. He would not be walking all the way to the market fair, it was too far. His parents had taken the Speeder.

Danny, on the other hand, had a shortcut.

He reached one of the portal-fractures and passed through to a part of the forest where the trees whispered to one another. He took a moment to reorient himself, and continued to the next portal fracture.

As far as he knew, he was the only person who could reliably travel like this. He could have flown, but the market fair was busy, and he preferred to maintain his peaceful life. Phantom was still a celebrity in Amity Park. Even more so now, than before, as ghosts were no longer shot on sight.

Some ghosts even came to Amity Park’s market fair.

He walked through a wider-than-usual fracture which deposited him just outside the main fragment of Amity Park, near the erstwhile mall. The mall and its attached parking lot being the place the market fair took place.

It was busy. There were trucks stamped with the seal of Illinois parked on the edges, presumably belonging to the delegation from Chicago. There seemed to be more ghosts than usual as well, enough of them to make Danny shiver. Had they come from Chicago, or was it just a coincidence? If they had, that would be nice. Chicago had a lot of local influence, and was one of the places that was still trying to hold together something like a national government. If they accepted ghosts, others would follow more readily.

Peace between the two worlds in places other than Amity Park would be very nice.

Danny wandered down the paths of the market fair, not in any particular hurry to get to his parents’ booth. He was always more interested in the other things at the fair. Even if he rarely bought anything.

People seemed to be mostly moving in one direction. No, they were being drawn in one direction, with people tugging their companions onward. Danny, not having anything better to do, went with the flow.

Which led back to where the Chicago delegation was set up. Several people were standing in front of the trucks, arguing.

“How can you lose an entire bevy of ghosts?” demanded the man who appeared to be in charge.

The target of his ire merely shrugged.

“Can’t lose people like that, bub!” shouted someone from the crowd. There was a titter of laughter.

“Didn’t you have a big, fancy announcement, fed?”

More laughter.

“Yeah, what did you want to say?” This voice had an echo to it, and the the man looked extremely aggrieved.

Nevertheless, he took a deep breath. “We were led to believe,” he said, cheek jumping, “by certain ghosts, that there was a way to negotiate with the ghosts and... reverse this nonsense.”

Wow. So, Chicago got scammed. That could have repercussions. Danny hoped Amity Park wouldn’t see too much of the fallout.

“Wouldn’t you jump on any chance to stop this?” demanded the man in response to the jeers, gesturing at the sky and its pulsing bands of light.

“Tell us a better story!” shouted Ember, who had struck up a much more cordial relationship with Amity Park after the apocalypse. “One that we’ll remember!”

The man turned away, throwing his hands in the air. “Go find them!” he shouted, presumably to his subordinates.

The crowd broke up.

Danny was curious. It was one of his defining characteristics, both as a human and as a ghost. He followed one of the Chicagoans as they walked into the market turning this way and that.

“So,” he said, “what story was your boss fed?”

The woman jumped and looked down at him, disconcerted. (Yes, he was short. That wasn’t his fault. Except that it probably was, via the portal accident.)

The woman sighed. “Why not, it’ll be out before too long. We were told that the rightful king of ghosts was in hiding here, or something stupid like that. I don’t think they ever said he could fix the world, even. Only that he could be negotiated with.” She kicked the ground. “This is so stupid. There’s no ghost king. This is never going to get fixed.”

“It’s not so bad, is it?” asked Danny.

“How old even were you when it happened. Ten?” asked the woman.

“Excuse me, I was sixteen,” said Danny, crossing his arms.

“That’s cute,” said the woman, dragging her hand down her face. “You’re like thirteen, tops. Not nineteen. Jesus. Go bother someone else, kid.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Well, you aren’t wrong that there’s no ghost king. Last guy who called himself that got beaten up and locked in a sarcophagus forever.”

Then, just to mess with her, because she’d been rude, Danny turned invisible and left before she turned around.

Now... He should probably try to warn people about the scam artist ghosts. Or would they know from the other people watching?

Danny flicked back into visibility and continued perusing the various stalls, making small talk with the owners, bringing up the Chicagoans when it was appropriate.

He was passing by the covered entrance of the mall, one of the most crowded spots in the market fair, when his ghost sense went off, indicating an unfamiliar ghost was nearby. He scanned the crowd for the ghost. He didn’t have to look very hard. Strange ghosts tended to draw eyes, even in Amity Park.

Especially ones that looked like this. Inhumanly tall, cloaked, and moving smoothly. Glimpses under their hoods showed faces riddled with decay- or at least the appearance of decay. The three of them held instruments. Flute, drum, and summoning bell.

Danny stood to the side to let them pass. After all, they weren’t doing anything bad as far as he could see.

They did not. Instead, they stopped in front of Danny. Typical.

Then they started playing their instruments. And kneeling.

Aaaand the crowd was getting bigger. There was the person from Chicago, too. Could he escape without turning invisible with all this attention on him?

Probably not without showcasing his ghost powers. There were people who knew him in this crowd. Like Paulina. And Star.

“Um,” said Danny. “Hi?”

The leading ghost looked up as the sun’s light turned emerald green.

“Blessings of rot and petrichor, my prince. May you have a home in the dark, and may the distant stars you reach for never fade.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Danny saw the Chicagoan’s jaw drop.

“I think you might have the wrong guy,” said Danny. “I’m not anyone’s prince.”

The ghost grinned, sharp and white. “We came to give our blessings, my prince. You do not need to accept them for them to exist. We offer, also, our service and our hope in this new world that you are so suited for.”

Yeah. This was going to be a problem.

#danny phantom #ask #answer #prompt #prompt fill

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rafecameron · 4 years

Text

sunkissed

summary: Sarah’s pen pal of several years finally comes to visit - she can’t help but fall for her friends older brother

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

word count: 8K

a/n: I don’t really go here anymore but i wrote this a couple months ago and a few people said they wanted to read it so here to go (gif is mine)

Dear y/n,

You will never believe what’s been happening! I’ve fallen in love (for real this time)! And he’s a pogue! His names John B, he works on my dads boat, I know cliché. I thought I was happy with my life, thought I had everything planned out and everything was perfect but I never realised how much I was missing! The pogues are all so carefree - considering. They just do whatever they want and it’s always fun, I haven’t stopped laughing since I’ve been hanging out with them.

My brother isn’t very happy about it, but he’s not very happy about anything really. He called me a traitor for hanging out with pogues, he’s so annoying! I can’t wait for him to go off to college or something and just get out of my hair!

The second bit of good news? My dad said you can come stay for the summer! As in the whole summer! Now you just have to get permission and we can finally see each other again! I’m so excited let me know as soon as you can come!

Love, Sarah.

It was written in her neat hand on her usual pale pink paper. You loved the end of the month when you’d receive a letter from your best friend. Best friend. It always felt strange and people never understood how you could have a best friend you had met on vacation when you were seven. You hadn’t seen each other since but you had promised to keep in touch with letters and you had much to both your parents surprise. You loved when Sarah would complain about her older brother and younger sister, she was always so dramatic when she spoke about them. You also couldn’t believe that not only had she fallen in love (again - this was the twelfth time since you were seven) but she had gotten permission for you to stay the rest of the summer and had waiting to tell you via letter! You grabbed your phone off of your night stand and quickly hit the call button under her name, waited a few rings, then her cheerful voice answered.

“Y/N! Did you get my letter?” She asks quickly.

“Yes. I can’t believe you haven’t already told me about your new boyfriend! Or that I’m allowed to come and stay!” You complain.

“You know I like saving my good news for the letters. It feels more...romantic.” She giggles down the phone, “so, can you stay?”

“I haven’t asked yet. I can’t see why they’d say no.” You roll over onto your back, smiling widely up at the ceiling, “so tell me about John B!”

And she did. She told you everything they had done together so far, how amazing he was, how charming and funny and hot. He didn’t much sound like yours or Sarah’s type at all but you couldn’t help the grin on your face hearing how happy she sounded when she spoke about him. You stayed on the phone for well over an hour listening to her gush over her new man before finally hanging up.

You were excited at the prospect of finally seeing Sarah again but also a little hesitant. She sounded so wrapped up and in love with John B that you were sure you would be the third wheel for the whole summer. Or the sixth wheel, after hearing about her new friends too. But the excitement of seeing Sarah won over your worries so you ran downstairs to ask permission to go. After lots of begging and lots of sucking up, your parents said yes.

—-

You had never been anywhere on your own before so you were nervous the minute your parents left you at the dock to board the ferry. You were sure something would go wrong. You’d lose your ticket. You’d get on the wrong boat. But amazingly everything went smoothly and before you knew it you were getting off the other side. The midday sun was blaring down already, it was much hotter out here on the island than it was where you lived well into the mainland.

You walk along the dock, trying your best to see over the top of people’s heads to try and spot your friend. You were slowly starting to worry she wasn’t here until you saw the blonde leaning against a post, you hurried over probably bashing people with your bags but you didn’t care.

Sarah spotted you as you ran closer, her face suddenly breaking out into a wide grin as you dropped your bags and pulled her into a bone crushing hug.

“Oh my god you’re finally here!” She cheers squeezing you back just was hard.

“It’s been a long time coming.” You smile giving her one last squeeze before letting go, “So, what's on the agenda for this summer?”

“We’re going to have the best summer ever!” Sarah links her arm through yours after you pick your bag up, “We’re going to go shopping, have late nights watching movies, parties on the beach! It’s going to be amazing.”

You agree and throw your bag into the back of Sarah’s car before climbing into the passenger seat. The whole drive to her house you let her gush about John B and how amazing he was, you refrained from pointing out she’d already told you over the phone. You loved seeing her face light up when she spoke about him and only wished you could feel that way about someone one day.

You knew Sarah’s house would be big however it was a lot bigger than you ever imagined it would be. But as you drew closer it wasn’t the house that was drawing your attention but the boy in front of it. He was wearing a grey T-shirt, tight against his biceps as he leant over a bike rubbing at it with a cloth. You couldn’t stop your eyes from watching his arms as they flexed cleaning the bike.

“Okay, disgusting. Can you stop eye fucking my brother?” Sarah laughs and pushes your shoulder, “I cannot deal with that all summer.”

“That’s Rafe?” You ask looking back over to him, “Why didn’t you tell me your brother was hot?”

“Ew, he’s my brother he’s not hot! He’s also an asshole.” She rolls her eyes before finally climbing out of the car. You follow suit, pulling your bag from the back and following her towards the house. Your eyes land back on Rafe as you walk past but the boy doesn’t look up from his task so you turn away and follow Sarah into the house.

——

“Fucking hell JJ you’re gonna set everything on fire!” Pope shouts, the boy jumps up and runs after the blonde who was currently running around the yard with a burning log pretending to be a caveman.

“Is he always like that?” You ask looking at the curly haired girl beside you.

“Oh, yeah,” she nods, “He’s an idiot.”

You laugh and watch Pope grab the log from JJ, telling his friend off before he threw the log back into the bonfire. JJ followed Pope back to the circle, sitting down in a sulk as he took an angry gulp from his beer.

“Never any fun.” He mutters to himself before breaking out in a grin, “Hey, y/n you haven’t seen my party trick! Let’s take the boat out!”

“JJ it’s pitch black,” Kie shakes her head, “You can barely do it in daylight, you’ll end up falling overboard and drowning.”

JJ let’s out another huff, “Alright, what am I supposed to do for fun then?”

Sarah had brought you to John B’s chateau to meet her friends. John B was not at all how you imagined him but you liked him well enough. Kie was lovely as was Pope and you looked forward to hanging out with them more. JJ was definitely a little chaotic and not someone you would usually hang out with but he seemed to have good intentions so you were sure he’d grow on you.

The night was full of drinking and laughing, the boys running around like idiots as you and the girls fell about laughing at their antics. This was the kind of thing you thought about when you thought of perfect summer nights. Drinks with friends, evenings full of laughter with music and a bonfire.

——

You were thankful that you didn’t drink too much the night before when you woke up with a clear head. You poked your head into Sarah’s room to find her still fast asleep, arm dangling off the bed as her face pressed into the pillows.

You made our way around the kitchen, opening up every cupboard in search of a glass. You let out a huff of frustration when you open your fourth cupboard to find plates and still no glasses.

“Need a hand?” A voice asks, causing you to jump back in surprise.

You spin around to see Sarah’s brother leaning against the doorframe, apparently having watched you search the kitchen for the last few minutes.

“Glasses?” You ask hopefully.

He shoots you a small smirk and walks into the kitchen towards the cupboard furthest from you and hands you a glass from it.

“Coffee?” He asks, already placing two mugs down onto the counter.

“Sure, thanks.” You take the glass and fill it with water from the fridge, gladly accepting the steaming mug of coffee the boy offers.

“I’m Rafe.” He finally introduces himself.

“I know, Sarah’s annoying older brother,” you let out a laugh, “Y/N.” You offer him your name with a slight smile.

“So you’re the pen pal, isn’t that a bit redundant now?” He leans against the counter, legs crossed slightly as he looks over at you.

You copy his stance opposite him and shrug, “Somewhat, but there’s something a lot more personal about receiving a letter, more intimate. I think it’s a shame people don’t do it anymore.”

“But a text is much quicker.” Rafe shrugs, seeming to miss the point completely, but it’s what you expected.

“Yes, it is quicker.” You agree.

A silence falls over the kitchen, a silence that’s surprisingly not awkward. You study Rafe as he looks down at his mug, hand moving in circles as his eyes watch the brown liquid move around. You weren’t sure what you expected Rafe to be like, but you were sure this wasn’t it. From what Sarah had described you expected someone loud, boisterous and irritating. Someone who would laugh at you not being able to find the glasses and walk away leaving you confused. Not someone who would pass you the glass you were desperately searching for and then offer you a coffee on top.

He looks up. Striking eyes meet yours and he smiles for the first time but it doesn’t reach the blue of his eyes, it stops somewhere just past the corners of his lips.

“How do you like the outer banks then?” He asks.

“Love it.” You beam, you laugh at the look Rafe shoots you, “No really! It’s so nice to be away from the city. This is what summer is supposed to be like, beaches and bonfires, not walking around busy streets.”

Rafe ponders your answer for a moment, “I guess. It’s just hard, when you’re used to it it gets kind of boring and repetitive.”

“Well, maybe you should find some new hobbies then.” You smile.

Rafe let’s out a chuckle, it’s dry and seems forced, “Yeah, maybe I should. Well, if you get bored hanging around the Pogues, come find me and I’ll show you how a summer should be spent.” He shoots you a wink and exits the kitchen. That, you think, is more the Rafe you were expecting.

——

“You’re not going to go, are you?” Sarah inquiries for the second time.

You’d just finished telling her about your morning meeting with Rafe and she’s been adamant you shouldn’t hang out with him. Not that you were planning to in the first place, but now she had explicitly said you shouldn’t, you kind of wanted to.

You refrain from rolling your eyes, “No Sarah. I came here to hang out with you, not your brother.”

Sarah smiles, happy with your answer she links her arm through yours like she had the day before. You both had beach bags slung over your shoulders as you made your way towards the golden sea of sand.

The rest of the group were already on the beach. John B and Kie were digging around in the cool box looking for beers while JJ was building a sandcastle around Popes legs.

You liked the beach and you liked Sarah’s friends but you found yourself growing bored quickly. It was too hot to lay around in the sun and you had never been a fan of the ocean so refused the offers of learning to surf. Even if you liked the water you didn’t imagine you’d be any good, your balance definitely comparable to bambi on ice.

Sarah was attached to her boyfriend at the hip, you didn’t blame her, she’s young and in love but it wasn’t very fun for you. You wished you’d brought a book or your headphones with you. It wasn’t until Kie mentioned a party that you perked up a bit, a party, that was definitely more your scene.

“Where?” You ask leaning up on your elbows on the towel.

“On the beach of course,” Kie holds a beer out towards you, “Pre drinks?” She grins waving it around.

You take the can from her and crack it open, trying to plan out your outfit in your head. Usually you’d wear a dress and heels to a party, but you didn’t expect that would be the best attire for a beach party. It was probably more of an occasion for shorts, a tank top and sandals.

——

The beach was crowded by the time you got there, a lot busier than you expected it to be. You were more than shocked when you noticed Rafe and what you guessed were his friends while you were getting your second drink. You hadn’t expected him to attend a party on this side of the beach, seeing his apparent hatred for the pogues.

He catches your eyes and sends you a nod before turning back to his conversation and you can’t help the small smile that appears on your face. Rafe didn’t seem like the dick Sarah had made him out to be and you were glad to have another friendly face around.

You were in your own world, dancing around with your fifth beer in hand when an arm wrapped around your shoulders. You spin, glad the arm was tight around you or you would have toppled over. Rafe is stood smiling down at you, you could tell from his eyes he’d drank a fair bit but he didn’t seem too intoxicated.

“Still having fun pogueing around?” He asks.

You should shrug his arm away from you but you find you enjoy the weight of it against you and lean into him more.

“I guess,” your fingers play with the red cup in your hand, “I mean, there’s nothing else to do, is there?” You half tease.

Rafe can sense your playful tone and matches it with a smirk, “I’ve already said I’ll show you a good time.”

“Sarah would kill me if I went running off with you,” you admit, leaving the part about wanting to anyway unsaid.

“Well, when she’s not looking you know where to find me.” He smirks, letting his fingers linger on your shoulder for a second longer before he sauntered away back into the throng of drunk party goers.

——

It was a week later when you finally took Rafe up on his offer, after you had promised Sarah the only reason you didn’t want to go out on the boat was because it had made you sea sick the day before. She’d pouted but eventually agreed on going without you. Rafe offered for you to join him and his friends at the golf course. Golf was definitely not your thing, but when you options were that or spend the day in the house alone and hope you don’t bump into ward, you chose the former.

“I thought you were going to show me how a summer should be spent.” You complain as you lean against one of Rafes golf club watching him and his friends line up for the seventeenth hole.

“This is how a summer should be spent.” Rafe comments, raising his beer into the air, “Beer, sun and golf.” He nods.

“Well, it’s not my ideal summer.” You sigh watching Toppers ball fly across the green.

“So what’s your ideal summer?” Kelce asks as he lines up his ball.

Kelce was definitely your favourite out of Rafes two close friends. You liked Topper well enough, but there was something about him you weren’t too sure about. Kelce on the other hand was a lot more pleasant than you expected him to be, he was friends with Rafe after all. But he’d made you feel welcome the minute you got to the golf course, even trying to teach you how to play.

“Adventure.” You state with a nod of your head, “I’m in a new place, I want to look around. Find new cool things, not wander around a field.”

Kelce chuckles as he hits his ball off the tee, “I wouldn’t call it a field.”

“You want adventure?” Rafe questions pointing at you with his club as he walks up to take his shot, “I’ll give you adventure.”

They finish the last two holes and then Rafe is dragging you out of the club house and towards his truck. He drives back to his house, swapping his truck for the bike you had seen him cleaning last week.

“You want me to get on that?” You ask with a raised brow.

“You want adventure but you won’t get on a bike?” Rafe laughs holding his helmet out to you.

“Adventure won’t kill me.” You roll your eyes but sigh and accept the helmet.

The bike was not as bad as you expected it to be. Rafe drove somewhat sensibly, you expect it had everything to do with you being on the back. It wasn’t until you were out on a dirt path that he started pulling the bike up to ride solely on the rear wheel and you found yourself clinging onto the boy for dear life.

“Rafe!” You scream, fists clutching at the front of his blue polo shirt, “Stop!” You squeeze your eyes shut as the boy just laughs.

Finally he stops the bike and you jump off, ripping the helmet off your head and throwing it at the laughing boy, “Are you actively trying to kill me?”

“Yeah, I bring all the girls out here to kill and bury them.” He chuckles and puts the stand down on the bike before climbing off.

“Right, I don’t doubt you do.” You turn around, arms crossed over your chest, “Where are we?”

You walk towards what seems to be the edge of a cliff, looking down you can see the waves crashing angrily against the rocks below.

“This is the best spot to come when you want to be alone,” Rafe appears behind you, you can tell what he really means is this is where he comes when he wants to be alone, “No one comes up here and there’s no phone signal.”

“The perfect place to hide a body.” You smirk over at him.

“Exactly, or the perfect place to learn to ride.” He grabs your hips and turns you back towards the bike, pushing you towards it.

“Wait, what?” You ask looking back at him over your shoulder, “Here? What if I fall off the edge?”

“Don’t drive towards the edge.” Rafe laughs as though it’s obvious and you suppose it is, “C’mon, sit.” Rafe pats the seat of the bike.

You debate with yourself whether you should get on the bike or not, you’d never even learnt to drive a car let alone a bike, so you knew you probably shouldn’t. But for some reason although you barely knew Rafe you trusted him. So you climb onto the bike, gladly accepting the helmet he offered to you again and pushing it down onto your head.

Rafe shows you the ignition and the controls you need to move it and to brake. You start off slow, conscious about falling off and breaking your neck. Rafe followed behind you like a parent teaching their child to ride a tricycle for the first time. Slowly you began to build speed, but nowhere near as fast as Rafe was driving and you definitely were not going to be pulling any wheelies. Rafe stands to the side, arms crossed over his chest as he watches you ride up and down the small path.

You stopped the bike next to the boy, pulling the helmet from your head with a large grin plastered across your face.

“That was amazing!” You comment, letting Rafe put the stand down so you can climb off, “I’m not saying I’d want to ride one all over the place, but up here where no one else is was really fun.”

“And you didn’t fall off the edge!” Rafe comments in a congratulatory tone causing you to laugh.

You sit down beside Rafe on one of the large rocks near the cliff edge, you hadn’t realised how long you had been out with the boy but the sky was beginning to turn orange as the sun set for the night. The view was breathtaking and you hadn’t noticed it while you had been riding.

“I can see why you like it up here.” You murmur, eyes fixed on the point where the sky meets the ocean, the orange of the sky reflecting off the sparkling waters.

“My father taught me how to ride up here.” Rafe admits, Sarah had told you all about Rafe and Wards relationship and in all honesty you felt sorry for him. You couldn’t imagine how hard it must be to strive to meet perfection for someone who doesn’t give you a second glance. Although it doesn’t excuse the things Rafe does, it at least gives you some understanding as to why he does them. He’s crying out for the attention he craves and for some unknown reason you want to give it to him.

You don’t reply. Instead you reach out and rest your hand on top of his letting the silence speak for you.

----

“Are you coming with me today or are you hanging out with Rafe again?” Sarah teases you, you were worried that she was going to be upset with you but the girl seemed more amused than anything.

She was already home when you got back past dark with Rafe and she had grilled you for the details of your day. She’d informed you that Rafe wouldn’t be like that with just anyone and that he must have a crush on you. But you’d just laughed her off, telling her he’s not the person she thinks he is. You knew siblings usually had some kind of rivalry, and seeing how much nicer Ward was to Sarah than Rafe you weren’t really surprised he acted hostile towards his younger sister.

“I don’t know, I don’t know if Rafe even wants to hang out with me again.” You shrug following your friend into the living room.

“Well you’re more than welcome to come with me, but Rafe’s usually out by now and he’s still lingering around.” She nods towards the back doors where you can see Rafe through the glass.

He’s sitting on one of the garden chairs, leg bouncing as he taps against the arm of the chair. Sarah gives you a little push towards the doors and you soon find yourself walking through them, face lighting up as Rafe notices you and smiles.

“Hey.” He stops tapping and sits up straighter.

“Hey.” You reply, you stand in front of him semi awkwardly, what if he hadn’t been waiting for you and had in fact just been enjoying sitting in his backyard in the morning sun.

“Do you have plans today?” He asks, you think he sounds a bit hopeful.

“I’m not sure...Sarah said I can go with her, but she seems more adamant I should hang out with you.” You both turn to see Sarah through the window trying her best to look like she’s not watching the interaction, “Maybe she doesn’t like me.”

Rafe chuckles, “Or maybe she just wants me to hang out with someone other than my bone head friends,” He chews on his lower lip, “I know somewhere we can go, if you want.”

That somewhere turned out to be a shaded woody area with a stream running through it. A stark contrast to the beach you had been to multiple times in the last week you’d been here. But you liked it, the shade was a welcome break from the sun and the sound of the water gently flowing over the rocks was calming.

Rafe stops walking beside a large tree, pointing with a smile towards a badly carved ‘R’ in the bark, “I think I was about eight when I did that.”

You smile and trace the letter with your finger. You weren’t sure if it was a conscious decision by Rafe to bring you to places that meant something to him, but you were glad that he was. It meant more than just taking you to random touristy destinations and it felt like you could peek a little more inside of him with each trip.

Rafe tugs on a piece of rope hanging from one of the branches, it was frayed at the end and looked like it had seen much better days. But after Rafe had tugged on it a couple of times and deemed it safe he offered it over to you. You laugh and accept the rope, giving it a tug of your own as you look up to where it was tied around the tree.

“It’s safe, tyed it myself.” Rafe comments as he watches you.

“When you were eight?” You shake your head when Rafe nods, “If I fall in you better run.”

You prepare yourself for a wet landing but miraculously the rope doesn’t break and you make it to the other side of the river in one piece and completely dry. You throw the rope back over to Rafe and he soon joins you on the other side.

“What if we come back and the rope’s snapped?” You ask watching the rope slowly swinging back and forth over the water.

Rafe watches too for a moment before tugging your arm to follow him, “You get wet.” he states.

You let Rafe guide you through the trees, the river never far from your left side as you make your way deeper into the woods. You find yourself grabbing onto Rafe’s arm as you climb over roots and fallen branches, sure no one ever came down here.

“Is this your second favourite place to hide bodies?” You ask with a laugh as you duck under a low branch.

Rafe hums, “No bodies here,” He replies, “Actually, I haven’t been here in years. I kind of forgot about this place until I was thinking about places to take you.”

“You were thinking about places to take me.” You ask, a small fluttering feeling creeping into your stomach.

“I promised you adventures, didn’t I?” He looks back at you with a smile.

You nod quickly, “You did,” You agree, “I look forward to more, then.”

Rafe led you the rest of the way in comfortable silence, both of you enjoying the calming sounds of nature instead of forcing a conversation about something meaningless. You stop beside Rafe when the river pools out into a small lake beside a cliff, water cascading down the side of the rocks.

“Wow,” you gaze across the water, “How have you found the nicest places?” You step in front of him, walking along the edge of the water towards the waterfall.

Rafe follows behind, “I spent a lot of time exploring when I was younger,” He tells you, “I could come here and be anything I wanted.”

“It’s amazing.” You state, “I wish we had places like this back home. We just have busy streets and over crowded parks.”

“C’mon.” Rafe hurries in front of you, grabbing your hand on his way past.

He helps you climb over the rocks towards the waterfall, both of you getting completely soaked as you pass under it, but even in the shade the weather was hot and sticky so you really didn’t mind. Behind the falling water you find a small cave, you weren’t sure if it was big enough to even be called a cave, but you had no other name for it. The stone inside the cave was dry and you let Rafe pull you to sit inside it.

“I used to come here when I was in trouble. No one could ever find me.” He laughs.

“I guess no one would think to look for you behind a waterfall.” You grin, “I wouldn’t. How did you even find this place back here?”

“Like I said, I used to do a lot of exploring.” Rafe shrugs as he moves forward and sticks his hand into the water. “I like listening to the water.”

“You can close your eyes and imagine you’re anywhere,” You comment, letting your eyes fall shut but you soon open them again, “I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be, though.”

Rafe looks at you over his shoulder, a smile gracing his lips and you couldn’t help but think this one was real. Unlike that first day, this one reached his eyes setting his whole face alight with pure happiness. You like it. You like his smile and you like being the one to put it there.

You spend most of the morning sitting behind the waterfall talking about anything you can think of. Most of it mundane small talk but some of it deeper. You tell Rafe about a few things from your childhood, seeing as he’d shared a couple of his own. Then as it drew closer to lunch time he took you to a diner on the edge of town which mostly sold various breakfast foods.

You knew you had asked Rafe for adventure, but you decided you would be happy doing absolutely nothing as long as he was in your company. You liked his company and you hoped he liked yours enough to spend most of the summer with you.

----

“Are you going to tell me what we’re doing?” You ask letting Rafe lead you towards a large stone building.

“Do you not have surprises where you come from?” Rafe teases, “I’ll explain, if I tell you, it kind of ruins the whole thing.”

You roll your eyes and slap his arm playfully. Rafe had told you to be ready by midday and to wear something nice. So you’d picked out a red summer dress and actually bothered with your hair and make up for the first time during your trip. As you got closer to the building you saw a sign which read ‘Wine Tasting.” and quickly tugged on Rafe’s arm.

“We aren’t even old enough to drink!” You hissed but he just shushed you and entered the building.

The waiter didn’t seem to bat an eyelid at the fact that you were both clearly only late teens and not over 21. He greeted Rafe by name and led you both over to a table on the balcony. The table was already set up with multiple glasses of various wines and you raised your brows at Rafe.

“How do they just let you in?” You ask in a hushed voice.

Rafe simply shrugs, “Perks of being a Cameron.” He grins and hands a glass over to you, “I’ve tried them all before.”

“I can’t try all of these, I’ll be drunk before one!” You laugh but take the glass from him.

“You’re not actually supposed to drink them.” He comments.

“You think I’m not going to drink them?” You raise one brow at him and bring the wine to your lips. It was a rose and it tasted much sweeter than you usually liked but still you swallowed it, “If there’s wine, I’m drinking it.”

Rafe laughs, shaking his head in amusement as you finished the rest of the glass. You both tried every wine on the table, Rafe getting rid of the wine like you’re supposed to, you downing each glass and getting steadily more drunk as the afternoon drew closer.

“So, which was your favourite?” He asks.

You purse your lips, mulling over the question in your seriously tipsy state, “The dry white.” You finally decide.

Rafe nods at your choice and excuses himself from the table. While he’s gone you look out over the balcony, the view mostly fields and trees but it was picturesque in the summer sun. You hum contentedly to yourself before snapping your head back round at the sound of a bang on the table. Rafe stood with four bottles of wine in his hands, motioning for you to follow him.

“You brought four?” You laugh following him down the stairs and back towards the car.

“Yeah, now we get to drink the best one and get blissfully wine drunk.” You can’t help but think that is the best idea yet.

You soon find yourself sitting in Rafe’s backyard as Rafe had put it ‘blissfully wine drunk’. Two bottles had already been finished, Rafe currently working on the third while you had had more than enough for now. You were in that state of drunk where you still knew what was going on, but you were much more confident and comfortable. Your vision was slightly blurred around the edges and if you stood up you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk in a straight line. You knew you shouldn’t be this drunk this early in the day, but Rafe was making you laugh and you felt like your body was full of butterflies so you didn’t care what anyone else would think.

Soon after it had started to get dark and Rafe had attempted to make you grilled cheese - you’d ended up eating it burnt and you hadn’t tasted anything quite so bad in a while, but you had both laughed about it - you found yourself stumbling down towards the beach. Hand tight in Rafe’s half because you wanted to hold his hand, half to stop you face planting the floor.

Rafe had brought the last bottle of wine with you, he stood it in the sand between you as you flopped down into one of the dunes. Dusk was settling across the sky casting a dull but calming hue across the beach.

“I didn’t plan on getting this drunk,” Rafe comments as he pulls the bottle from the sand and takes a sip, “But I’m not complaining.” He offers the bottle to you and you take it, gulping down the liquid before placing it back in its hole.

“You’re a bad influence. I’ve never been drunk at lunch time before!” You point an accusatory finger in his direction.

“Well you’ve been missing out all this time.” Rafe swings his arm around your shoulders and you let him pull you against his side.

His touch is warm in the cool evening sea breeze and you lean into him. Rafe has the power to make you feel completely comfortable around him all the time. You’d never met someone like him before and were quite sure you never would again. He was a one off. One of a kind. Special. So when he kissed against your hair line you smiled and held him closer. He was too good to let go off, physically and mentally.

You tilt your head up, eyes lingering on his willing him to read your mind. And he does. He leans down, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. It was short. A peck more than anything. It was nothing and everything all at the same time. You laid your head back against his shoulder, missing the smile spreading across Rafe’s lips.

----

You sit outside with Sarah, nursing your hangover with a strong coffee as the girl laughs at your self induced misfortune. You weren’t going to tell her about the kiss you and Rafe had shared the night before, honestly you weren’t sure yourself if it meant something to him or if it was just a result of too much to drink. But she’d asked, and you’d admitted it, and she hadn’t been annoyed like you'd expected. Actually, she seemed pretty excited, gushing over the details and letting out a little squeal after you finished.

“It would be so good if you dated my brother! He needs someone good in his life, and you actually look so cute together!” She taps her feet excitedly against the ground, “So what’s on the lovebirds agenda today?”

You open your mouth to tell her that actually you have no idea what you’re doing today. But you don’t get a chance to speak. Instead the table shakes violently as something heavy lands on it and then a second later both of you are covered in water.

Sarah screams and in your hungover state it takes you a second to process what had happened. You look up, glaring at a smiling Rafe hanging out of his bedroom window, it was more than a little unfair that the boy didn’t look the slightest bit affected by yesterday's drinking session.

“I’d move if I were you.” He calls down before another balloon full of water lands on the floor beside you.

Both you and Sarah bolt up from the table and out onto the grass, both dripping wet with angry scowls.

“Rafe you asshole!” Sarah calls up as she wrings her hair out, “I’m not staying here for this, it’s you he’s trying to get!” She points a finger at you before quickly running into the house.

You’re glad when you look up and Rafe is no longer at his window, but that relief quickly dies when he appears at the back door, a balloon already on its way over to you. You scream as it hits your arm, the cold water covering your body.

“This isn't funny Rafe!” You shout, running as another rubber bomb comes towards you, “I’m hungover and now look at me!”

But Rafe doesn’t care. You spend the next ten minutes running away from his assault, finally being able to defend yourself when you grab the hose and point it at him. By the time Rafe is out of balloons and he’s managed to wrestle the hose out of your hands both of you are dripping wet. Rafe’s hair is plastered against his forehead and covering his eyes, yours is hanging down like rats tails. You wring out your shirt, glaring still at the boy but it’s more playful now.

“And what exactly brought that on?” You huff letting go of your shirt.

Rafe shrugs, moving towards you and wrapping his arms around your waist, “I like hearing your laugh.” He answers pulling you closer.

He leans down, his lips finding yours in a wet kiss thanks to your fight. This kiss is longer, his lips pressed against yours firmer than the previous night. Now you knew that it wasn’t some drunken act and that Rafe had in fact wanted to kiss you, and this made you smile against his lips. This time, now you were sober, you could appreciate the moment more. Kissing Rafe was like something you had never felt before. It sounds cheesy to say you felt a spark, and you weren’t sure that’s how you would explain it. But you felt light, like the weight of everything was taken off you at least for a moment. And your body felt warm, like your blood had turned to honey and you felt cosy and safe.

You rest your head against his chest when you finally pull away, ignoring how uncomfortable his wet shirt felt against your cheek. And you stood there holding each other, wet in the morning sun for what felt like forever.

----

The next week is full of Rafe surprising you with something new each day. Sometimes it’s small like a day of baking - which you both suck at - and sometimes it’s big like a shopping trip to town where he treats you to new shoes and dinner. It’s also filled with a lot more kissing and a lot more cuddling. One day, when the weather is more miserable than usual summer days, you make a blanket fort in his bedroom and spend the day cuddling, eating marshmallows and watching cheesy movies on netflix. That was one of your favourite days. To block the world out and spend the day wrapped up in Rafe’s arms was how you wanted to spend every day for the rest of your lives. But that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy the other days too. The days when Rafe would plan someone special or take you to a meaningful place from his childhood. You knew that no matter what you were doing, if it was with Rafe, you’d enjoy it.

You sat on the deck of the boat, watching as Rafe dropped the anchor setting the boat in its place. The yacht was impressive, but Rafe could have taken you out on a rubber dingy and you still would have loved every second of it.

“Have you ever been jetskiing?” Rafe asks.

“You know I don’t really like the water, Rafe.” You sigh, standing up as he walks over to you and resting your hands against his chest.

“I know, but I think you’ll enjoy it. It’s like riding the bike but bumpier.” Rafe presses a kiss against your forehead, “Do you want to try it? We can come straight back on the boat if you don’t like it.”

You sigh, looking up at his hopeful eyes and you find you just can’t say no to the boy. So you smile and nod your head once, “But if I call in you have to come save me!”

Rafe promises to follow right behind you and helps you get geared up in a life jacket, which made you feel a little better about the coming experience.

It took a couple of minutes for you to get used to sitting on the jet ski before you even moved anywhere and Rafe sat patiently beside you. He held your hand, brushing his thumb across your skin until you announced you were ready to try.

Rafe was right when he said it was like riding a bike and you were glad he had shown you that first. You didn’t dare go very fast, but you still had fun riding around in slow circles. You soon felt comfortable on your own and Rafe sped off, showing off and throwing himself at waves.

He was soaking wet when he appeared back beside you, a grin on his face as he pulled up next to you.

“Show off.” You comment with a giggle.

“Had to give you a show baby.” He leans over and presses his lips against yours.

——

That evening Rafe bundled you into his truck with a duffle back and an armful of blankets. No matter how many times you asked where you were going he refused to tell you. So I’m the end you shut up and turned to stare out of the window watching the town fly by and turn into fields and trees.

Finally he pulls up in the middle of nowhere, grabbing the things from the back and jumping out of the car. You follow after him, noticing a tent set up in a clearing, a faint orange glow coming from inside of it.

“We’re camping?” You grin hurrying ahead of him to check it out.

Inside the tent was fairy lights strung along the room, some blankets and cushions already laid across the floor. It looked cozy and cute, you turned to him, hugging his side tightly.

“This is so cute! When did you set this up? I was with you all day.” You raise a brow at him before helping him set the extra blankets down.

“I got Topper to help out,” he shrugs before pulling you down into the tent beside him.

“I love it.” You grin and lean over pressing a kiss to his lips.

That night you lay stargazing until your eyes hurt and then you climbed inside the tent and curled up in Rafes arms. You talked, you laughed and you kissed. You slept with Rafe for the first time that night, it was slow and sweet and something you will remember forever.

You had never planned on falling so hard for the boy. Thinking this would be a summer fling to tell your friends about and that was it. But now you knew it was more than that. A lot more. You had never felt for anyone the way you felt for Rafe. When he was around you your world life up and your cheeks always hurt from smiling so much.

You couldn’t imagine not getting to see him and touch him every day but time moved too quickly and the end of summer reared its head.

The last night on the island you spent at the annual carnival. You had gone with Sarah, spending half of the night with her and her friends before disappearing off with Rafe.

You went on the Ferris wheel, ate sweets and hot dogs and got lost in the fun house. By the end of the night you felt sick from all the food and insanely happy.

“I’ll come visit you in a month or two, okay?” Rafe promises as you stand on the docks, tears slipping down your face.

You nod your head, letting him kiss you one last time, “Okay. I’ll call you every day.” You offer a smile, rubbing your wet cheeks before disappearing onto the ferry.

You sat on the deck, waving to Rafe until you could no longer see him through the crowds and you were sure he was gone.

You kept your promise of calling him everyday, chatting endlessly about anything you could think of. You loved talking to Rafe because nothing ever felt forced. He made you laugh and smile and e butterflies never went away when you thought about him.

It was the end of the month and you excitedly ripped into the letter addressed to you, expecting to see Sarah’s hand gushing to you about John B and asking you all sorts about your and Rafe. But it wasn’t Sarah’s neat hand you saw but something a little scruffier.

Y/N

I don’t think I’ve ever written a letter before but I remember you saying how you liked them so I thought I would try.

I wanted to say thank you for giving me the best summer, I don’t remember the last time I felt so alive. Being around you is a feeling I want to keep forever, I can never get enough of talking to you, kissing you and hugging you. You make my world a better place and give me a reason to keep trying to be a better person. Thank you for all that you’ve done for me, you’ve helped me more than you can imagine.

I look forward to seeing you next month, I’m counting down the days until I can hold you again.

P.S. Sarah says hi, and that she knew this would happen all along.

Love, Rafe x

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks x reader #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #my writing

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sleephyjhs · 4 years

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You Sing Lullabies to your Baby (REACTION)

all members are included under the ‘keep reading’ link

notes: this genuinely has taken me so long and i am so so sorry. when it comes to parent aus i really like to take my time since they’re my favourite, i hope it’s okay!!

m.list | requested

KSJ

Your prolonged absence from the downstairs loveseat caught Seokjin’s attention. The baby monitor had alerted you of your newborn’s disturbed sleeping, but the lack of commotion from upstairs interested him. After pausing the animation film he was determined to finish with you, he traipsed carefully for the stairs so not to further disturb your son.

His fingertips scarcely skimmed the corridor walls as he tiptoed towards the nursery. Through your newfound maternal panic, the panelled door had been left slightly ajar in the rush to attend to your baby; the small opening allowed just the right amount of view to see what had distracted you for so long.

The nursery itself was dark, illuminated only by pastel nightlights that so often fascinated his son’s brown doe eyes. Sleeping in the dark throughout the night was a trait you collectively were glad he’d inherited; tonight was perhaps the first glitch in his habits since birth. Facing away from the opened door was your nursing chair, where you’d positioned your now sleeping son across a flimsy pillow over your lap. His audible muttering was slowly washed away by the sound of your voice, humming a slow lullaby to soothe him.

“And if that mockingbird don’t sing, mama’s gonna buy you a diamond ring~” Seokjin’s eyelids fluttered softly in time with the rhythm of your lullaby. You’d previously claimed to sing your baby to sleep when he wasn’t around, and now he had finally caught you.

Instead of feeling the need to interfere, Seokjin stood away from the light and listened to your lullaby repeat again and again until it was time to transfer your son back to his cot. To avoid being caught by you, he hurriedly hopped back down the stairs and resumed his seat in the couch. His private concert would remain his little secret.

MYG

Finishing rehearsals any earlier than midnight had recently become a foreign memory for Yoongi; coming home to a sleeping wife and baby was too painfully familiar. Finally, the rare occasion of an early clock-out had come around. Your newborn’s night routine was one Yoongi frequently missed, so the new opportunity was nothing short of refreshing.

Despite receiving a text saying to expect your husband home earlier than usual, the closing click of the front door was inaudible from your daughter’s nursery. Yoongi dumped his bag on the chair in his home studio and silently proceeded up the stairs.

His light stepping was a habit that had once caused you many frights, but at least your endless efforts to soothe your wailing daughter wouldn’t be reversed. The dim corridor light hardly caused Yoongi’s shadow to cast on the pale carpet of the nursery as he leaned against the doorframe, allured by the soft melody of your humming.

“Round and round the garden like a teddy bear~” Within seconds of listening to your repeating rhyme, Yoongi smiled brightly to himself. Within a matter of minutes, your exhaustion was more than apparent to him.

Yoongi pushed the door slowly to reveal himself to you as you gently placed your daughter back into her crib. Sighing as she finally appeared sound asleep, he held his arms open to you. A hug was nothing short of what you needed.

JHS

Knowing how well you enjoyed laying in on weekends, waking up to a groggy husband, your absence was nothing short of concerning. The warm imprint of your body still staining the bedsheets - you hadn’t been gone for long. Hoseok raised himself slowly, rubbing his eyes in disapproval of the morning sun. His first challenge of the day? Locating you.

Although he shuffled down the corridor still stiffened by the earliness of your escape, you were oblivious to his looming presence. Less than 10 minutes ago, your daughter decided to raise the heavens with her irritant screams. She was only just adjusting to a room of her own; being out of reaching distance from you was proving to be distressing for her, and of course, you.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey~” The soft, motherly hymns attracted Hobi towards the door of the freshly decorated nursery, where you stood rocking the tiny infant in your arms back to sleep. He leaned against the doorframe quietly, still struggling to open his eyes fully. Subconsciously, his head swayed from side to side in chime with the repeating melody, immersing him fully in your morning serenade.

Realising how tired he was, Hoseok figured singing lullabies so early in the morning could’ve been enough to send you drowsy all over again. Before his eyes could close completely on his two main girls, he traipsed slowly down the stairs in order to prepare you a well-earned homemade breakfast.

KNJ

As much as you both we’re almost always left exhausted from your busy schedules, if the only time you had together was past midnight then Namjoon would do what he could to make it work for you. Watching a movie at 2am was a risky move - balancing the volume to not disturb your dozing twin boys was hard work.

Just when you thought you’d worked it out, the chorus of agitated cries roared through the baby monitor, “No you stay here, eat.” You convinced Namjoon before he could even place his bowl of food on the coffee table.

Long after finishing his overdue dinner and still no sign of you, Namjoon paused the now-concluding film and crept through the silence towards the nursery where his baby boys had generated a now dwindling raucous. He couldn’t help but feel guilty about agreeing to stay put; one noisy baby was enough for anybody to handle, let alone a carbon copy.

Before he could barge through the door to aid the process, Namjoon paused in the corridor at the breaking of the silence. A small, cloud nightlight illuminated the cosy nursery that homed his boys and projected it’s yellow glow onto you. With a sleepy baby in each arm, you rocked back and forth in the pillowed nursing chair, “I’m sometimes up and sometimes down, coming for to carry me home.”

Maybe you had it all under wraps after all..

PJM

You’d anticipated Jimin’s return from tour for nearly a month, and were over the moon to finally be able to snuggle with your love once again. The daily facetimes were nowhere near as good as the real thing.

Although, the advantage was your new capability to lie. With your forced smile and optional mute button, you were hoping that Jimin never took a moment to suspect things weren’t as perfect as you so convinced him. Admitting your struggles would only guilt trip him into coming home briefly when he could, which was more stress he could’ve done without.

Your daughter could sense her father’s absence, and proved to you that she missed him more than you did. Never before had you had so many sleepless nights. Your mind was packed to the brim with lullabies from all over the world; it was all that worked in getting her to sleep anymore. Instead of preparing for Jimin’s return, her restless sleep pattern drew you back to her room, singing the same lullaby she’d heard nearly a hundred times before.

As you chanted the sleepy serenade to your disturbed, Jimin snuck through the front door unheard. His arrival was far earlier than you’d expected, but your seeet vocal tones whistling down the staircase was a great enough gift for him.

“Wherever you go, no matter where you are, I will never be far away.” Jimin followed the humming trail up the stairs to greet his two girls one again. The sight of you slowly rocking a now dozing daughter was enough to curl his tired eyes into smiling crescents. Certainly, arriving home early was worth the lost hours of rest.

KTH

Following the few, short hours after her birth, you’d finally stumbled across your first obstacle of thousands to come; a sleepless night. Fair enough, being born is a decently traumatic, turbulent experience, and so your daughter was hardly to blame for her discomfort in a foreign place.

The drugs and pain reliefs that were being pumped into you mare you similarly unable to sleep. Taehyung, however, had been long gone since the sunset; supporting you through childbirth was more exhausting than he’d expected. You couldn’t blame him though, he was nothing short of amazing.

Getting in some practice alone was rather ideal for you. A watching crowd would’ve been daunting for any new mother. Lifting your precious newborn from the plastic bassinet, you flicked through the few memorised songs that were within reach of your limited memory.

Just as you conducted your first lullaby of the night, Taehyung suddenly awoke to the distress of his baby. The chair he’d fallen asleep in was far from comfortable, but any surface would’ve done the job. Instead of sitting upright to attend, he waited for a while, fully aware of how long you’d anticipated singing to your precious daughter.

“Sheep safely home have come, bumble bees no longer hum.” Smiling to himself as your gentle voice soothed both your daughter and him down into a snooze, Taehyung took the secret encounter as a chance to further adore you. Interrupting your first bonding moment with your newborn wasn’t on his list of options; Taehyung was more than content to listen to you embrace motherhood as he was certain you would.

JJK

Despite believing your son was well and truly asleep, the inevitable sobbing rattled through the baby monitor eventually. Having time alone with Jungkook was a rarity, but the disruption via your son was hardly repulsed. In fact, you often had to fight for the right to be the one to calm him down.

With it being so late, and him having hardly slept during the day, you knew well that your son was only overtired. Although Jungkook was by far better skilled in the vocal department, sometimes a mother’s lullaby can be all a baby needed. You allowed Jungkook to continue the anime episode without you - it shouldn’t take you so long this time.

Even a few minutes was enough to miss your presence. To grab one last glance of his tiny son for the night, Jungkook soon followed your footsteps to the pale grey nursery you rocked your baby so gently in, “Golden slumber kiss your eyes, smiles await you when you rise.”

Despite your vocal capability having no leverage on that of your husband’s, Jungkook still enjoyed listening to you. Something about your sweet voice that was hypnotising; drowsy in itself. Instead of storming the brief bonding session, Jungkook awaited you in the hall, grinning widely to himself in the corridor. You were beyond precious.

^ i really dont know why i use the namjoon and his twins starter so much but here we are

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freckledmountain · 3 years

Text

Lulling comfort

By @freckledmountain for @romeoandjulietyouwish

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark

Summary:

"Music had gotten an entirely new meaning after that, from Disney songs to musicals to classic rock, and everything else in between. … He´d do anything to listen to Peter sing to them again."

Or, an AU where you hear whatever your platonic soulmate sings or hums! :D

For the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Read on Ao3

Chapter 1: Change

Some-

BODY ONCE TOLD ME

the WORLD IS GONNA ROLL ME

I AIN´T THE SHARPEST TOOL IN THE sHE-ED

Peter´s endearing screech and dramatics at the starting notes startles a fond laugh out of Tony, making DUM-E beep in curious surprise.

The bot has a screwdriver in his grasp and usually Tony´d chastise him for grabbing tools without permission (he has not forgotten the last lab incident, thank you) but right now he´s much too preoccupied resisting the urge to join in the kid´s slumber party via his own singing.

God bless karaoke.

Peter had looked sheepish when he´d mentioned it to him, the little get-together his scary girlfriend and Ned had planned this weekend at the latter´s place after a ridiculously long week of exams. Tony had absolutely no problem listening to his kid´s voice in his head, but it was still sweet of Peter to ask beforehand.

“You know I work best with music anyway.” He´d said, remembering all the times he´d listened to Peter perform dramatically to songs on the radio.

Peter´d hunched his shoulders a bit, smiling. “Yeah, okay, okay, I just wanted to make sure because Ned might ask me to duet to Take on me again, and last time I sang it you were on a meeting and FRIDAY sent me that video of you mouthing the words and Ms. Potts looked like the disappointed dad from that Shawn Mendes vine- “

…even if he had no idea what the kid was talking about sometimes.

He´d gasped and placed a hand to his chest, feigning offence. “Have you forgotten the time you had Call me maybe on loopin my head for an entire day?”

“…It was a dare?”

“Hmm” he´d said, raising an eyebrow playfully as Peter dissolved into laughter. “whatever you say, bud.”

His smile softens unconsciously at the memory as he methodically tweaks a few things in his nanotech suit, still listening to Peter belt out lyrics in his head. Truth be told, he misses the kid working alongside him like usual, but he knows how important spending time with his friends is to Peter.

(The parenting books say it´s imperative too, although of course he hasn´t ever read, purchased five on a whim or fret over anything of the sort. Obviously.)

He hopes Ned and Michelle´s respective other halves don´t mind the kids crooning 80´s rock on a Friday evening, but he guesses if they´re anything like them, they probably won´t complain. Soulmates are cool like that.

He remembers all the times Rhodey had told him about his soulmate´s voice inside his own head, how he´d suddenly perk up and grin at whatever melody he could hear, how he´d start humming randomly to join in.

Tony had grown up hearing nothing but his own treacherous thoughts for the longest time, almost losing hope completely at the possibility of having a soulmate right up until adulthood. Heavy metal music blasted over his speakers constantly whenever he was busy in his workshop, but he never joined in. There were moments when he´d thought his love for singing would be soured forever, since apparently the universe or whoever was in charge didn´t have a problem leaving him without someone out there to share it with him in his head.

Thankfully, he always did have Rhodey, and boycould he kick-start the fun in singing again with his flawless Mariah Carey impressions. He´d loved the few times he´d heard Pepper sing too, and there´d even been one memorable instance where he´d surprised Happy vocalizing in an unexpectedly pleasant lilt.

Hearing Peter sing though...simply put, there was nothing else like it.

-and we could aLL use a little changeeeeeeeEEE

…Yes, nothing was quite like it.

Tony shakes his head, smiling, and grabs his phone to text May about the kid´s shenanigans. She´d been more than a little concerned when Peter and him had figured out who the other was, (that was one heck of a superhero fundraiser) but now they´ve become much closer, and Tony can genuinely say they´re friends. He´s glad to have her on his side, because May Parker is, in Peter terms, a very kind powerhouse, and not someone he´d like to mess with.

He´s about to press send when the lights in the room flash red.

Tony´s up and summoning his gauntlet attentively in a second, right as FRIDAY pulls up screens around him, showing footage of the emergency.

“What am I looking at, FRI?”

“Around 30 heavily armed machines have emerged in Midtown Manhattan, boss.” She responds, as the room fills with projections. The robots on screen are huge and ugly as heck, about the width and height of three school buses together. They´re making their way through the streets surprisingly quickly for how heavy they look. People run away, steering clear of their illuminated blasts. “They appear to be releasing high frequency blasts approximately every ten seconds. Local police have just arrived at the scene and are requesting backup, since the blasts are causing structural damage to the surrounding buildings. The source of these machines is unknown.”

“Tell the team to suit up and meet me there.”

“They have already been alerted, boss, but I´ll relay your message as well.”

The rest of his suit materializes around him, and he makes haste to get to the nearest window, half worried and half downright annoyed at whoever was behind this.

“Another one for the robot bingo card on means of world domination.” He says to himself, unimpressed. Just one week without this crap…

He soars above the sky nonetheless, blasting his way towards the fight.

Please stay put kid, he wishes, even as the singing stops.

---

Three blocks.

He´s three blocks away from where Peter is making his way back when it happens.

As big and fast as the robots are, Tony can tell they weren´t exactly made by the finest of the loons who regularly try to take over New York. Not to mention they´re absolutely appalling to look at, whoever designed these things had absolutely no taste, Tony thinks, crushing his twenty-second bot with the suit´s repulsors. It hasn´t exactly been easy, since the wretched machines have no real apparent motive but to blow up everything in their path, but within an hour it seems they´re done with the worst of it.

He can see Nat and Wanda dealing with the remains of one of the last ones below, while a little way away Cap´s talking with a few cops, scoping out the damage. Even though the air is permeated with smoke and there´s rubble in some places, there are no casualties, and they´ve thankfully emptied out the buildings that got wrecked. SHIELD will take care of the rest.

He flies over the skyscrapers, keeping an eye out for any other bots, but it seems like FRIDAY´s finished identifying all of them. He activates a private line on the comms to talk to Peter.

“Done securing the area from whatever that disastrous colour scheme was?”

He can hear Peter´s good-natured groan as his location pops up on Tony´s screen, six blocks away.

“I know, right? I can wear mismatched socks for a week and rock them no problem, but blue with like, eye-melting neon? Yikes.”

“Exactamundo. Couldn´t agree with you more, kid. But hey, it looks like you might actually be able to get back to your sleepover after all. Can´t wait to hear what alarming chorus is going to keep me up until midnight.”

“Oh you just wait, we´re doing ABBA next and it´s gonna be so-“

FRIDAY tears through the conversation with an alarm, but it´s precious seconds too late.

A gasp. An abrupt thud resounding through the comms. A scream. Peter´s.

Tony´s blood freezes in his veins.

“Peter? Peter!?”

He gets there in less than a minute and sees one of the bots with its blaster pointed at Peter, still smoking from the shot.

He obliterates it without a second thought, his mind swirling with fear and rejection at FRIDAY´s next words as he runs towards Spiderman´s crumbled figure.

“No heartbeat detected, boss”.

Chapter 2

The first time he´d ever heard Peter´s voice, he´d been running on three hours of sleep, a frankly heart-attack inducing dose of caffeine, and no motivation whatsoever to sit down with stuffy board members for five hours.

It didn´t exactly come as a surprise that for the first few milliseconds of the “Itsy bitsy spider” chant in his head he´d thought, confusingly, that it might just have been his mind finally resorting to the resurface of old nursery rhymes as a way to tell him to go the frick to sleep.

His heart however, was another matter.

As ridiculous and improbable as it sounded, a new something in his chest rose even before he knew what was happening. He might not have been a machine, but something slowly and irrevocably clicked into place the more he heard that gentle voice go on about water spouts and suns.

He´d stopped short in realization. Blinked.

And then smiled wide enough to lose himself in the mirth of it.

He´d run back to his workshop right after that, laughing like mad with the absolute mayhem of emotions coursing through his whole being, almost crashing into Pepper in the process. She´d looked back at him in concern, questions already forming in her lips, before Tony had frantically mimed at her to keep quiet, wanting to listen to the soft voice´s final notes.

Once the song finished, Tony may or may not have let out a loud shriek of sheer joy and told an increasingly delighted Pepper all about it, practically bursting with excitement.

“Pep! Wait, what do I do now!? Do I- Do I sing it back to him? Do I sing another- crap I don´t even know any children´s songs, JARVIS, JARVIS!”

In the end he´d had to phone Rhodey to yell the news ecstatically to him, because he´d just found maybe the universe hadn´t wanted to screw him over after all, and he felt like screaming it from the rooftops. The little voice was sweet and shy and boyish and happy, and about the best thing Tony had heard in his damn life. He couldn´t have contained himself if he´d tried, and heck if he was going to any time soon.

(“Tones, what- “

“Rhodey!”

“…was that you or a screech owl.”

“It happened! There´s- a little kid! Somewhere! Spiders! My soulmate!”

“The- wait what-? “)

Music had gotten an entirely new meaning after that, from Disney songs to musicals to classic rock, and everything else in between.

…

He´d do anything to listen to Peter sing to them again.

Burning.

He´s burning all over.

Screaming in pain, he tries to escape from the scorching heat, but it´s everywhere, it´s everything, he´s the pain, he´s the fire, everything hurts-

And then as soon as it appears, the pain is gone.

He opens his eyes, blinking woozily.

“Oh, thank God.”

His vision blurs all over for a minute. There´s dampness in the corners, left over from tears.

Tears?

He makes an attempt to sit up, but there´s a hand holding his shoulder gently. He blinks again.

Tries to decipher his surroundings.

He´s laying down in a mostly deserted, grubby looking street. A figure kneels close to him, some sort of red and gold robot type thing. He narrows his eyes at it, trying to figure out why it feels so familiar…but finds, to a detached kind of surprise, that he can´t.

He has no idea what happened.

The robot seems to be very relieved for some reason, just staring up at the sky for a couple of seconds, taking a deep, wheezy breath.

Even with his head feeling like wet cotton, he looks at him with concern. The robot sounds seconds away from fainting. Is he…alright?

When the robot´s face opens and a man´s head peeps out (cool!), he almost jumps back in surprise.

And then…

Well. He still doesn´t have a clue who this person is, but as soon as he sees the man´s expression of utter joy and relief, something inside him settles. Safe.

He blinks in confusion at the feeling. He knows this person. He does.

But who is he?

“Pete? You´re back bud. Do you feel okay?” The man´s (man? robot? man-robot? cyborg? figment of his imagination?) smile fades slightly, looking at him in worry. “FRIDAY” Friday? Who on earth is he talking to? “didn´t you say the CPR made his vitals-“

“I´m- I´m fine” he says, because enormous confusion aside, he is. Maybe his head is scrambled, and he feels exhausted, but he has a feeling he´s been in worse shape before.

A feeling.

The man (he´s decided on man) starts going on about robots, and getting him to a tower with someone called Dr. Cho, but all he can do is blink back, his confusion increasing.

“I´m really sorry” he interrupts, knowing he´s probably going to disappoint the man, but needing to push forward even so, “who- who are you? Are you-? “

He tries to put a word on the feeling seeing the man´s face had evoked in him before, tries to remember who he is or what he has to do with the man or why he feels so…safe. So safe. With him there, even with all the questions going round and round inside his head.

“Are you my dad?”

The man´s face stills. For a second, it looks like his brain short-circuits.

Mood, a thought rings out in his head, unbidden.

That´s when he hears it.

A huge metallic…thing coming through the street towards them, and he doesn´t know why but it makes his heart thump like a rabbit´s in a cage, and suddenly he gets a flash of remembering pain, and he knows these machines, these machines are dangerous, and what if the man gets hurt too-

He pushes the man behind him as he desperately tries to look for somewhere they can hide-

-but the man grabs his hand first and hurries them both towards the sturdiest-looking car on the street, crouching so they´re out of sight.

“Uh, alright. I- this must be really weird for you, but it´ll be okay. Just stay here for now, ´kay? I´ll- We´ll figure this out. You with me?” The man holds his gaze for a second, and it´s so sincere, he finds himself nodding.

The man smiles. “Okay. Give me a sec.” And then he gets up and turns towards the robot.

What the-what´s he doing!?

He reaches out clumsily to drag him back, but the man´s face gets obscured by his robot mask once more and he…

Flies?

The frick? He thinks in bewilderment, as he sees the man lift off and attack the robot with blasts coming from his hands. My maybe-dad can fly!?

Either he lives in a sci-fi novel, or he´s going absolutely nuts.

Could be both at this point, frankly.

The whiz of gold and red fighting the robot is almost quicker than his sight can keep up with, but he persists, looking out anxiously for any opening the robot might have to take the man down so he can try to warn him about it. There is none though, the robot might be exceedingly fast, but the man remains unyielding. He takes another look at the giant machine and sees it´s blaster-

And then it´s like someone takes his brain and shakes it around everywhere, and the throbbing is so sudden he kneels and clutches his head tightly to keep it from falling apart. His thoughts feel shattered and tampered with, and the pain-

He cries out in agony, and tears fill his eyes again.

The man! I have to look out for him!

He tries to listen to the fight again, but just as he tries to focus in on it it´s like a tsunami of yells and police sirens and voices washes over him, and noise, why is there so much noise-

Overwhelmed, he kneels until his forehead touches the grainy concrete, and wishes he would just pass out.

He doesn´t, though.

Among the oversaturated ocean of noise, one adds to the mix.

Except this one isn´t grating. This one doesn´t make everything seem like too much.

Because it feels like it´s coming from within himself.

He´s at a loss for what´s happening, but the voice slowly and lightly blocks out all the other noise, grounding him in a gentle tune. In a flash, he recognizes the song. He knows where he heard it last.

Mr Stark.

And he remembers.

“Kid? What are you doing up?”

He shrugs, sinking deeper into the couch cushions. Baby Tarzan laughs onscreen.

He half expects Mr Stark to push him for more details, but he seems to understand Peter´s not in a talking mood and walks up to him solemnly.

“Scoot.”

He does, and Mr Stark plops down next to him, wordlessly extending his arms out in invitation. Peter falls into the hug gratefully and sighs. Exhaustion pulls down on his bones, but he´d rather not get back to the nightmare he woke up from. Mr Stark snorts softly at something in the movie, and then they both jump a bit at the sudden loud gorilla roar. They keep watching the movie, and Peter´s curls are brushed back gently in a soothing motion.

He wants to sleep. But he can´t.

But he´s safe here, isn´t he?

His chest grows heavier as he thinks of the dream, and when he blinks, his eyelids dampen. He hasn´t shed a tear yet, but Mr Stark must sense something again because his hand at Peter´s hair stills.

And then he starts singing.

It´s a lulling comfort, and Peter melts into the embrace, allowing his tired eyes some rest.

He´s safe.

Come stop your crying

It will be alright

Just take my hand

Hold it tight

I will protect you

From all around you

I will be here

Don't you cry

He´s safe.

With a final shot from Iron man´s repulsors, the robot powers down, and Peter runs out to meet Mr Stark, almost crushing his ribs in a hug.

“Woah, woah!” The helmet´s visor pulls up, revealing a grinning Tony. “Did that actually work? FRIDAY told me you were freaking out and I thought it might help calm you down.” He says, hugging him back. “But it did more than that, didn´t it?”

Peter´s too relieved to do anything but nod happily into his shoulder, but he gets the point across.

They stay there for a full minute, just holding on to each other. Until Tony grumbles out a “and I can´t believe you remembered Phil Collins before Iron man, seriously.” and Peter bursts out laughing, lightening the mood.

“The man didn´t sing that soundtrack in five languages for nothing, Mr Stark. It slaps.”

Tony hides his smile in Peter´s curls, and hugs him close.

#Writing #The friendly neighborhood exchange #WHOOO #irondad and spiderson #I love them #platonic soulmates

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penaltbox · 3 years

Text

you’re my weakness - brock caufield

the biggest of thank you’s goes out to @puckyess for writing at least half of this new fic with me via text lol. if you like it pleeeease reblog and give feedback!! it means so much to me 😊 it’s a short one but i love it a lot!

__________

Ty walks by the bathroom around 9 in the morning and he’s barely struck by the music floating out from the other side of the door. He frowns and stops in his tracks, leaning towards it to try and understand what he was hearing. He smirks a little when he realizes and heads for the kitchen, ready to grab some breakfast and plan how to pick on Brock that day.

It doesn’t take long before he gets his shot and Brock comes walking out, fully dressed and smiling away. Ty laughs as soon as he sees his teammate, causing the other boy to give him a weird look.

Ty nods in his direction, a sly smile on his own face, “someone’s up early today.”

Brock feels his cheeks heat up a little but he shrugs it off. He’s sure Ty knows what his plans entail for the day considering he spent almost all of his free time with you anyways, but he isn’t about to confirm that. It apparently doesn’t deter the captain though because he keeps the questions rolling.

“Since when do you listen to Dan and Shay so much? I heard it when you were in the shower,” Ty asks again, his grin growing little by little as Brock grows more flustered.

“Why are you listening to me shower, you weirdo? And why are you in my apartment? Don’t you have your own to be at?” Brock deflects, reaching into the fridge to grab a bottle of water.

He knows exactly where he got the urge to listen to Dan and Shay so often and it’s from you. You were the reason he was always so giddy on weekends that he didn’t have hockey. You were the reason he heard love songs in a different way nowadays. You were the reason he was up and had his hair done all before 10am. He was crazy about you.

“I ended up spending the night. Robbie and I were watching some film pretty late. She coming here or are you meeting her somewhere?” Ty asks, knowing why Brock was up and ready, too.

“Here to start but I think we’re going to get food right away. She was saying she wants to try this place in Verona the other day so I wanted to take her there. Try not to pick on her too much while she’s here please.”

Ty’s smile turns soft suddenly and he’s really starting to freak Brock out.

“Dude, what’s that look for? Why are you being such a creep this morning?” Brock asks, side eyeing his teammate.

Ty nudges Brock with an elbow as he walks past him, setting his empty cereal bowl in the sink, “you’ve got it bad, huh?”

Brock opens his mouth to give him a smart comeback but the air gets stuck in his throat. He hadn’t thought too hard about it before. He knew he enjoyed being with you and knowing you were his, but had it really become something more without him realizing it?

“I mean I like her, yeah” he finally replies as his cheeks get rosier by the minute.

“Oh you just like her? That’s all it is?” Ty presses, folding his arms over his chest and looking smug.

“Yes, I like her. What are you getting at?” Brock questions, wondering why Ty was pressing so hard on the subject.

“Uh huh. Where were you last night? Whose apartment did you come from that made you late to practice two days ago? Who were you FaceTiming on the bus three nights ago? Whose place did you rush over to once we got off said bus? Who makes your face light up every time you get a text? Who do you look for every time you score?”

Brock finally has to cut him off, his cheeks feeling like they’re on fire as the realization starts to set in, “Okay, maybe I more than like her.”

“So when are you gonna tell her? How do you even bring that up to a girl? Are you gonna say it? The l-word I mean.”

Brock’s head is spinning from all the questions. How is this something Ty saw before he even knew it? Was he that obvious about it? He’s trying to piece it all together, but he knows he’s on a time crunch before you show up at his door.

“I don’t know dude! I just realized it so I haven’t really thought that far ahead,” he snaps a little and Ty immediately holds his hands up in defense.

Ty knew Brock just needed a nudge because he doubted how you still liked him after all this time, but everyone around the two of you knew just how smitten you both were with each other. Brock has another question pop into his head immediately and this one makes his stomach sink a little.

“You think she might l-...you know, be into me too?” he asks hesitantly.

Ty laughs when Brock asks because yes you absolutely have the l-word for him and Brock was just too slow to realize it.

“You both look at each other like you hung the moon. Of course she loves you,” Ty shakes his head and well, Brock pretty much wants to run and find you right then and there.

This piece of information has Brock’s head and heart running a mile a minute but his feet are frozen in place. He knows what he wants to do but he can’t seem to get his body to move quite as fast as his thoughts are running at that moment.

“Dude, what’re you still standing here for? You have somewhere to be!” Ty tells him.

Brock finally manages to pull it together but when he goes to practically run out the door you’re already there, ready to knock, with coffee in your hands. Brock freezes and Ty lets out a loud laugh that has you immediately confused.

You’re shocked to see him all flustered and Ty with the biggest shit eating grin behind him so you’re immediately a little concerned. This certainly wasn’t how most mornings went when you stopped by their place. You’re actually surprised Ty is even up yet, let alone standing there looking so smug.

“B, are you okay? You look warm,” you ask, glancing back at Ty again.

“He’s just done a lot of thinking,” Ty drops before walking out of the room quickly, or at least out of sight. You’re almost certain he’s probably right around the corner, but that’s not your concern at the moment. You don’t like the words he’d used and immediately start to think the worst.

“Thinking about what?” You barely whisper out, assuming Brock was breaking up with you.

Ty knows he pulled a little shit move but Brock needed the push. He was so nervous to bring it up but he knows he has to calm you down from the bomb Ty dropped in his lap. This isn’t at all how he would have thought telling you about his feelings would go, but here he was and he was feeling worse and worse about the scared look in your eyes as you stood in front of him.

He’s able to see your wheels turning and he can’t help but think to himself that he really does know you. He’s quick to pull you in for a hug though and reassure you it’s nothing bad.

“Hey, hold on. Don’t go down that road right now,” he mumbles, pulling back just enough to look down at you. He tucks a hair behind your ear, “I want to talk to you about something serious, but it’s not a bad serious, okay?”

You can hear in the slight waiver of his voice that he’s nervous too and a million ideas are popping into your head as to why he might be like this. You two had been fine just last night so what could have changed in the short amount of time you were apart? You nod at him though, wanting to get the inevitable out of the way so you could relax or run back to your own apartment and cry sooner rather than later.

“Okay, go ahead,” you nod, trying to reassure him. He was usually a pretty open book with you and he feels somewhat guarded. It’s doing nothing to calm the bundle of nerves in your stomach.

Brock glances over his shoulder before shaking his head as he looks at you, “no, let’s go in my room. I’d rather do this somewhere more private.”

You hear a thud followed by a low ‘ouch!’ that lets you know Ty was still around the corner and you see him walk by and out onto the balcony, despite the cooler temperature outside.You know it was his way of giving you two privacy but it only fuels your dread.

Brock’s expression softens though and he reaches for the coffees that are still gripped tightly in your hands, “thank you for the coffee. I really appreciate it.”

He takes the still warm cups and sets them on the counter, motioning for you to follow him the rest of the way to his room. What once felt like your second home now felt charged with nerves and anything but comfortable. Brock steps aside and lets you into the space first, leaning back against the door after he closes it. The flood gates open before he even realizes it and suddenly the words tumble out quickly.

“I’m in love with you.”

You turn around quickly, wide eyes locking on him as your jaw drops. Did you hear him right? Did he say what you think he just said? No wonder he’d been so nervous. The lack of reaction from you, other than pure shock, had him thinking he’d made the wrong choice and it was far too early in the relationship for a confession like this.

Apparently you take too long to process his confession because he turns around suddenly, reaching for the door handle and very much ready to bolt from his own room. You somehow get your brain and body to work together and quickly make your way in between Brock and the door.

“Wait!” you say, putting your hands on his chest and looking up at him, “please don’t leave.”

You and Brock just freeze, staring at each other for a second before he breaks first, “just tell me you don’t feel that way for me yet and we can move on. I can wait to hear you say it. It’s fine.”

But you do feel the same, you’re just not sure how to say it because you’ve never said it to a boy before. You take a deep breath, your fingers flexing a little against the fabric of his t-shirt. He’s keeping you grounded in that moment and you need it so much more than he’ll ever know.

“But I do feel the same. I do love you. I’m in love with you, too,” you finally mumble, slowly looking up and locking eyes with him. The soft smile and look of adoration on his face makes your knees go weak and you feel your own cheeks start to redden.

His tone is as soft as his look when he asks, “are you sure? You don’t have to say it just because I did.”

You shake your head and lean against him, arms slipping around his waist as you finally smile, “no I really do mean it. I was just really afraid to say it first because I didn’t want to seem like a psycho clingy girlfriend or anything.”

“Does that make me a psycho clingy boyfriend then because I said it first?” he asks, but the teasing half smile you get from him lets you know he’s only teasing.

You laugh and grab the back of his neck, gently pulling him down for a kiss that you intended to start slow, but it quickly heats up. Brock keeps things under control somehow, but can’t help the small moan that he lets out when you gently bite his bottom lip.

“Everyone is still home, including our random plus one of Ty. He’s probably eavesdropping right now. Plus I was going to take you out for breakfast but it’s more like lunch now if you still want to go,” he says, his hand gently rubbing up and down your side.

Small goosebumps break out under his touch, and you nod at his suggestions, “I’d love to go get lunch with you.”

A quick kiss that he intentionally keeps short is all you’re left with before he opens his door again, always letting you go first like the gentleman he was. Cole joins Ty on the couch in the living room, smiling when he sees you.

“Oh hi, didn’t expect to see you so early. Ty tells me you two finally fessed up on your feelings for each other,” Cole says, his smile just as teasing as the one on the captain’s face next to him.

You and Brock look at each other, surprise clear on both your features. Apparently you were both late to the party when it came to knowing you both were head over heels in love, but you didn’t mind. It was a party you planned to stay at for the rest of your life if you had any say in the matter.

#brock caufield #Wisconsin Hockey #ty emberson #cole caufield #mine #my writing #hockey fic #college hockey fic #hockey writing #hockey imagine

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