#but takes a back seat for the second half as the film moves to concentrate on his fellow lodgers (a narrow array that might be meant to

[wondernimbus]

two sworn enemies pt. 2 — draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x female!reader

summary: maybe being fancied by draco malfoy isn’t so bad, after all.

requests are closed for now. please refrain from plagiarizing my work!

click here to read pt. 1!

"Why is it so bloody cold?"

[Y/N] is decked out in full winter apparel; a knitted Gryffindor sweater, ear-muffs, and a scarf that she has half of her face buried in.

Sitting in the Quidditch stands with the rest of her friends, she grumbles, "It's not even a Gryffindor match. We don't really have to be here freezing to death."

"Well, it's common courtesy," says Hermione, but she's just as cold as [Y/N] is; there's bits of snow stuck in her hair and the tip of her nose is pink.

Ron snorts loudly. “We’re here to watch Slytherin lose," he says matter-of-factly, still in the process of smearing streaks of blue paint across his cheek.

[Y/N] watches him, nose scrunched. "Well, aren't you the Ravenclaw fanatic."

He gives her a grin and holds out the small tub of paint. "Want some?"

She bunches up her lips in thought, then reaches out to take it. Annoyingly enough, Ron pulls back at the last moment, grinning wider than ever, and says, "Or d'you want to show support for your boyfriend Malfoy? Hermione, why don't you turn this green—"

[Y/N] dives over Hermione and Harry to smack Ron round the head, only for the pair to hold her back and push her into her seat.

Exasperated, Hermione huffs, "Honestly, Ronald, will you stop bringing that up?" She glares at him. "You know fully well [Y/N] doesn't like it."

Ron (and Harry, although he isn't as boisterous about it as the redhead), thinks that the "blond ferret" taking a fancying to her is one of, if not the most hilarious thing to have ever happened in history. Annoyingly enough, Ron has made it a habit to tease her about it every chance he gets—this one being one of them.

"If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought Ron fancied Malfoy with how much he talks about him," grins Harry. This earns him a smatter of blue paint across his face; Ron had flicked it at him.

With one last eye-roll, [Y/N] tears her gaze away from Ron and digs her nose further into her scarf. It really is very cold; snow is falling from the sky, seeping into her clothes, some landing on her hair and on her face. Thankfully there's not so much of it that the players on the pitch wouldn't be able to see around them, but still—[Y/N] imagines that it'd be a lot colder for them, having to fly around the stadium with the cold wind whipping at their robes.

There’s a buzz of loud chatter hanging in the air as conversations from all around them overlap over one another. The entire stadium is slowly filling up; students trickle into the stands, a majority of which have adorned themselves with blue accessories as a show of support to Ravenclaw. One side of the stands, however, is entirely green. Through the snow, she can see a big serpent-shaped balloon hovering over the Slytherin side.

"They’re coming out!" someone exclaims.

Sure enough, when [Y/N] looks down at the pitch, players from both teams have appeared and congregated at opposite ends of the pitch. Slytherin and Ravenclaw; whichever house wins will play Gryffindor for the house cup. Most bets are on Slytherin, but [Y/N] would have to be dead before she is caught anywhere supporting them.

"Look, it's [Y/N]'s boyfriend," gushes Ron.

More out of habit than anything, [Y/N] shoots the redhead yet another brief, scathing look. Draco Malfoy is there, even though he's nowhere near being her boyfriend, pale face set into a stoic expression of calm as he stands with the rest of his team, one hand on his broom and the other on his hip—and this specific image has her thinking back to what happened two weeks ago on this very same pitch, except the stadium was empty and it was only the two of them on the grounds; when he'd confessed to liking her.

As if Malfoy has somehow heard her thoughts over the noise of excited chatter coming from all over the stands, he looks up, eyes sweeping the seats in search for someone before finally, they land on her.

When he meets her gaze, [Y/N]'s breath isn't knocked out of her chest, nor does she start blushing madly. But she doesn't burn red with annoyance, either. All she does is stare at him, eyes narrowed, watching as his lips split into a wide grin and he raises his hand to wave at her.

She rolls her eyes, but thankfully—thankfully, the scarf tucked around her neck, reaching up to her nose, conceals the smile that tugs at her lips.

"May I ask everyone to please find themselves in their seats before the match begins," McGonagall’s voice echoes around the stadium, giving [Y/N] a reason to break eye contact.

She tears her stare away from Malfoy’s, inhaling a deep breath through her nose, feeling oddly exhilarated.

But this isn't anything new. That slight feeling of breathlessness, that unfamiliar sensation tickling at her stomach whenever she spots a certain someone in the hallway; she's been feeling it a lot lately, and though the cause seems to be pretty obvious, that is another thing she'd have to be caught dead before doing: admitting that she reciprocates some of Malfoy’s.. peculiar feelings.

"And they're off!" Dean Thomas announces. [Y/N] watches as the players soar high into the air until they're mostly level with the stands, a blur of blue and green robes rapidly zooming around the pitch. Slytherin is already in possession of the quaffle; not a surprise, considering Ravenclaw isn't exactly known for their exceptionally talented Quidditch team.

Malfoy, meanwhile—[Y/N] tells herself that the way her eyes dart around the pitch in search of a certain platinum blond is because she wants to watch the game properly and not for other reasons.

She spots him hovering somewhere above the rest of the players, face screwed up in concentration as his gaze moves around the pitch in search for the golden snitch. He looks even paler in winter, set against a backdrop of a cloudy sky and snow—

[Y/N] jars herself out of her thoughts and blinks, side-eyeing her friends (specifically Ron) to make sure they hadn't seen her.. observing the Slytherin seeker. (Not like it matters; it's not as though she fancies him, but Ron would certainly take it the wrong way.)

"Go Ravenclaw!" Ron practically screeches, waving his Ravenclaw banner in the air—when did he get that? "Kick Slytherin’s arse so Gryffindor can crush you in the finals!"

[Y/N] snorts. "Have it all thought out, don't you, Ron?"

"Go on and cheer for your Slytherin boyfriend, [Y/N], no one's stopping you," says Harry, grinning. She turns to face him, mouth open in disbelief, and lets out a quick breath of incredulous laughter.

"So, Harry," [Y/N] says, suddenly deadpan. ”I see you've chosen Ron’s side."

Harry snickers, then shrugs.

"Oh, Malfoy’s seen the snitch!" someone shouts from beside them. [Y/N] turns back to the game to see Malfoy zooming down the pitch, clutching the front of his broom as he swerves past Slytherin and Ravenclaw players alike in pursuit of the tiny golden ball all the way on the other side of the stadium, where [Y/N] and her friends are sat. He has the upper hand—Ravenclaw's seeker is only just now starting to fly after him, but she's a good distance behind and Malfoy is gaining speed.

"He’s gonna catch it!"

"Ravenclaw's even worse than I thought," grumbles Ron, slumping down in his seat.

But just as Malfoy passes by them, somehow, despite the fact that he is in pursuit of the bloody golden snitch and on the brink of securing victory for his team, he slows down just the tiniest bit, and then, in true Malfoy fashion—theatric as always in his displays of affection—he catches her eye and yells “This one's for you, [Y/N]!”, a grin on his face before he hurtles down the pitch, stretching out his hand towards the fluttering snitch—

"Malfoy’s got the snitch!" Dean Thomas screams into his microphone. "Slytherin wins!"

[Y/N] stares, feeling oddly warm despite the wintry weather, as Malfoy spins around in mid-air, triumphantly holding up the snitch for the rest of Hogwarts to see.

"Blimey," gapes Ron, wide-eyed, staring not at the Slytherin seeker but at [Y/N]. "That was—"

[Y/N] looks away from Malfoy to meet Ron's gaze, maintaining indifference. "He’s quite the charmer, isn't he?" she mutters, and hopes that her friends will think that the blush on her cheeks is because of the cold and not because of something—someone else.

But that's ridiculous. It is because of the cold, isn't it?

"It may be Malfoy," says Ron slowly, shaking his head, "But you can't deny that was bloody romantic. Felt like I was watching something out of one of those Muggle films."

"Yeah, we'll have to ask him for tips," says Harry, and starts laughing when [Y/N] rolls her eyes in response.

—

Malfoy may have stopped sending her Howlers, but that hardly matters because he has found every other way to pester her.

This includes consistently yelling out her name and shouting random pick-up lines every time he spots her in the hallway, as well as sending people to do her bidding—no longer first-years, but Crabbe and Goyle, who show up at random intervals everyday presenting her with a batch of different pastries. She always sends the pair off, but only after Ron and Harry accept said pastries for themselves.

"Blimey, this is heavenly!" gushes Ron, taking a passionate bite off of his second red velvet cupcake. "You sure you don't want a bite, [Y/N]? Hermione?"

[Y/N] offers him an exasperated smile. "No, thank you, Ron."

"Don’t thank me, thank your boyfriend."

The four of them walk into the dingy Potions classroom. Snape is nowhere to be seen, but it's only a matter of time before he swoops in all bat-like, so [Y/N] and Hermione quickly take a seat at their regular desk, right next to Ron and Harry.

"Have you done your homework?" asks Hermione, pulling out an assortment of parchment from her bag.

[Y/N] hums in response. "I doubt mine is half as good as yours, but hopefully I’ll scrape an acceptable."

"Oh, you're a good student, [Y/N]. Don't bring yourself down."

"Hard not to when I’m sitting next to the brightest witch in our year," she nudges Hermione’s shoulder, smiling. Hermione huffs, rolling her eyes, but it's clear by the pleased look on her face that she doesn't hate [Y/N]'s honest flattery as much as she lets on.

[Y/N] drums her fingers on the desk to pass time, not quite paying attention to the students filtering into the classroom. Or at least not until one of them calls her name and drawls, "Is someone sitting here?"

[Y/N]'s head snaps around to see none other than Malfoy, gesturing to the desk to the left of hers and Hermione’s. "Mind if I,” he pauses, grinning, "Slytherin?"

She purses her lips into a thin, tight line, inhaling deeply as she fights to keep her cool. Yes, there are times when Malfoy's gestures have her questioning her own hatred for him, but this—this is not one of them.

"That," she says, voice mostly level. "Is your seat, Malfoy. I don’t see why you have to ask me."

Which is a lie. [Y/N] knows why, of course. To get her attention. To woo her. But part of her wishes that Malfoy would realize that everything he is doing, from the overbearing pick up lines to the cupcakes to his constant public declarations of love, isn't something that [Y/N] thoroughly enjoys. Does she want him to stop yelling at her in the hallways? Yes. Does she want Crabbe and Goyle to stop bumbling up to her everywhere she goes (outside of the girl's bathroom is one example) offering cupcakes and pie and tarts? Yes. But does she want Malfoy to stop trying entirely?

Maybe not. Maybe part of her wants to give him a chance. He does seem to truly hold feelings, judging from his confession back at the Quidditch stadium, unless he's a terribly good actor.

And it wouldn't just be him she'd be giving a chance, either. Perhaps she'd also be doing so to herself. Because, over the past month, it's baffled her how quickly her feelings for him have shifted. Or maybe it's not a change of feelings, but rather realization that under all that sneering and pureblood prejudice, Draco Malfoy is a boy.

An annoyingly attractive one.

But there is so much more that [Y/N] dislikes about him. His snootiness. His arrogance. His lack of consideration for other people's feelings. He may be tall and lithe and undeniably handsome, and he may have very soft-looking platinum blond hair and stormy grey eyes like dark clouds, but he is also a prick. And that wins over everything else, no matter how.. visually pleasing he is.

So when a paper bird flutters in front of her halfway through the lesson, when Snape’s back is turned, [Y/N] hesitates. She knows fully well who it's from, despite not having to look to the side and meet his gaze.

From beside her, Hermione whispers, "Get rid of it, before Snape sees."

Exhaling, [Y/N] snatches the paper bird and quickly unfolds it.

She doesn't know what she's expecting to see, but it's certainly not the words "meet me at the Astronomy tower after dinner" scribbled across the parchment. And with a drawing of a face blowing kisses, no less.

[Y/N] sighs.

—

[Y/N] has no real feelings for Malfoy, so succumbing to his mysterious evening request at the Astronomy tower shouldn't mean anything.

Scratch that: it doesn't mean anything. Not to her. (Or so she tells herself.) This is a chance for her to tell Malfoy to sod off and to stop courting her. And for good, this time. No matter what that annoying little voice inside her head tells her, she can't possibly even consider the idea of actually giving in to him. (And to herself.)

So she's going to put a stop to it, once and for all.

"I’m going," she decides over dinner, slamming her palms down on the table.

"Going where?" asks Harry.

"The Astronomy tower," she replies resolutely.

"What, to go star-gazing?" Ron snickers. [Y/N] glances at him and realizes, quickly, that telling them had slipped her mind—she'd been far too preoccupied with her own conflicting thoughts.

She shifts in her seat. She doesn't necessarily need to tell them, does she? It's not as though it's important enough to share. And besides, Ron would only badger her about it. Mercilessly. [Y/N] can already picture him in her head, talking about Malfoy and snogging under the stars and Merlin-knows-what-else.

"Nevermind," says [Y/N], taking a bite out of a muffin and looking away. They don't need to know; it's not as though it's important.

—

After [Y/N] has walked up all of the stairs to get there, only taking one or two shortcuts, she's out of breath, but she creeps into the Astronomy tower anyway. It’s mostly dark save for the faint moonshine filtering in from the open sides, and, well—there he is.

Malfoy’s arms are crossed over his chest, his back mostly turned as he stands dangerously close to the railing, looking out over the dark landscape. Dim light catches on the side of his face, illuminating the grey of his eyes.

The curve of his nose.

Pale skin.

White-blond hair.

[Y/N] finds herself staring, one hand on the doorframe as though for support, brows furrowed in the middle in a slight frown as she watches him.

He looks lost in thought. Even from a few feet away, [Y/N] can see the far-off, distant look in his eyes. Like storms brewing behind dark clouds, she thinks to herself. It’s a quiet little whisper in the back of her mind that has her heart doing odd little flips inside of her chest that she never knew it was capable of.

But then she blinks.

This is the last thing [Y/N] needs. To see Malfoy stripped of his arrogance—to see him as he is, bathed in moonlight, glowing, almost. To look at him and to see a boy with eyes like molten silver and nothing more—it's the last thing she needs to convince herself that she doesn't feel something for him that isn't hatred.

No, she doesn't need this.

She turns around, breath caught in her throat, and starts walking down the steps. Accidentally, stupidly, her foot catches on a metal step and a loud clang echoes around the silent tower.

[Y/N] pauses, eyes wide.

"[Y/N]?" Malfoy's voice says. He can't see her. It’s too dark, and [Y/N] is too far down the steps.

She swallows. But instead of dreading what could come, she finds herself waiting, half-hoping that he'd check the staircase, that he would see her and—

And then what?

[Y/N] rushes down the steps, ignoring the loud noise her footsteps make on the way. This is the last thing she needs.

—

[Y/N] doesn't like Malfoy.

[Y/N] doesn't like Malfoy, and she is determined to make that clear. (Both to herself and to her friends, although the former seems to be taking a lot more convincing.)

"What is there to like about him? He’s nothing but an annoying pain in the arse who has an overwhelming amount of pride and arrogance simply because of his blood—which is not only something that he never rightfully earned but is also something that shouldn't even bloody matter, except he thinks that it does solely because he is an absolute nutter who has nothing better to do with his life other than leech off of his parents' money and shove it in other people's faces."

Ron meets Harry’s gaze from across the table, who seems to be trying very hard not to laugh. Swallowing down a forkful of pancakes, Ron looks back at [Y/N]. "I’m sorry," he begins slowly. "But remind me again why we're talking about Malfoy?"

"I’m not finished, Ronald," [Y/N] snaps, shooting him a dirty look. Ron raises his eyebrows. "As I was saying before someone so rudely cut me off, Malfoy is a nasty little git who finds joy in making other people suffer. he probably has tiny puppies locked up inside his basement just so he can laugh in their faces and revel in their misery because he is that horrible of a person—"

Harry lurches with poorly suppressed laughter.

"An absolute terrible excuse for a human being! He basks in other people's humiliation—mine, for example!—and I would much rather snog the Giant Squid than ever actually consider his—" She pauses, gritting her teeth. "Odd.. requests."

"It’s not like he's asking you to murder house-elves," Ron mutters.

"Something that I would rather do than date him!"

"[Y/N]!" Hermione gasps, looking genuinely offended as she, for the first time since they'd arrived at the Great Hall for breakfast, looks up from the homework she's rushing to finish. (As if her five pieces worth of parchment aren't enough—Flitwick had only asked for three!)

"Sorry, Hermione," [Y/N] says, offering her an apologetic look that she only half-means. This quickly turns into a fierce look of challenge as she swivels back around in her seat to face the redhead sitting next to her. "Honestly, since when have you started defending Malfoy?"

Ron blanches. "I’m not defending him!" he says indignantly, setting his fork down on his plate. "It’s just.. yeah, it's a bit odd that he's declaring his undying love for you out of bloody nowhere, but he's stopped badgering us, hasn't he? Nasty little ferret hasn't said a word to Harry for weeks! And that goes for me and Hermione, too!"

[Y/N] narrows her eyes at him. "So you think it's great that he's stopped annoying you at the cost of my suffering?"

"What suffering!" Ron exclaims. "He’s been treating you like a bloody princess!"

"Oh, why don't you just snog him yourself, then, if you think so highly of him?"

Ron’s jaw drops in shocked offense.

"Alright, that's enough!" Harry announces, reaching over the table to shove the two apart from each other. "Why doesn't one of you switch seats with me before you end up strangling each other?"

"I don't know, Harry," [Y/N]'s lip curls. "I might have to hold Ron back before he goes running off to his ferret prince—or should we just let him? Merlin knows he'd love to, won't you, Ronald?"

Ron’s teeth are gritted; his eyes dart around the food on the table as though looking for the most effective weapon. He seems to be choosing between a green apple and rhubarb pie.

Thankfully, Ron never gets to take his pick. The bell rings, saving everyone in the Great Hall from witnessing what could have possibly been a brawl between friends. "Come on, let's go," says Harry quickly, relief evident in his tone of voice as he ushers the pair to their feet. "Wouldn’t want to be late for class."

—

[Y/N] doesn't like Malfoy.

[Y/N] doesn't like Malfoy, but why does she find herself staring at him whenever she comes across him in the hallway the next day? Why, when Malfoy meets her gaze, does she look away and pretend to be immersed in something else?

And why in the bloody hell, when Malfoy playfully winks at her during Potions class, does she find it very, very hard not to smile?

She walks out of the dungeon classroom in a hurry with Ron, Harry, and Hermione, not wanting to spend a minute more in Malfoy's presence; she doesn't particularly enjoy being suddenly hyperaware of every move he makes, every little glance he sends her way when he thinks she isn't paying attention. It’s as though something in her system has gone awry. Is that why her heart feels like it's about to hop right out of her chest? Is that why she can't stop wondering what would've happened if she'd stayed at the Astronomy tower?

"Hey, wait up!” Harry calls loudly as they walk up the stone steps leading away from the dungeons and into the main hallway, which is bustling with students.

[Y/N], who had been walking far too fast in front of the three, looks back over her shoulder and sees that they're a few feet away. She stops, seemingly flustered, and waits for them to catch up.

"You look like you've wet your pants," says Ron.

"I’m not you, Ron," she retorts.

"Oh, can you two please stop bickering for once?" says Hermione, exasperated.

From behind the three, Draco Malfoy emerges from the potions classroom and begins walking up the stone steps. [Y/N]'s hands clench into fists at her side as she discretely presses her back to the stone wall at her sides.

The blond doesn't even as much as glance at Ron, Harry, and Hermione as he passes by them on the steps. [Y/N], however—once Malfoy has reached the step below the one she's standing on, he pauses, no less than two feet away from her, and quirks an eyebrow.

"What?" [Y/N] scowls, trying not to look at the strand of blond hair dangling in front of his eyes.

Malfoy’s gaze dances over her face. "Was it you?"

She meets her friends' eyes over Malfoy's shoulder. Ron and Harry have their eyebrows raised; Hermione looks concerned. [Y/N] takes a moment to compose herself—tries to force her heart back into her chest—before she folds her arms across her chest and looks at the Slytherin. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"At the Astronomy tower," Malfoy says, and moves up one step so that he's standing on the same one she's on. A foot away. "I heard someone last night, while I was waiting for you."

Oh, Merlin.

"You came, didn't you?" he presses on.

"No," [Y/N] lies, and hates how defensive she sounds. She shifts a little on her feet, her eyes skirting away to look at a random spot behind Malfoy. "I was.. at the library. Doing things of actual importance."

There’s a slight pause as Malfoy's nose wrinkles. "Must’ve been someone else spying on me, then," he finally says through a scoff, but [Y/N] knows disappointment when she sees it. He rolls his shoulders back and puts on his signature smirk, inclining his head towards her as he takes another step up the stairs. "Better hurry and give me an answer, [Y/N]," he tells her, grinning. "Before one of my admirers get to me first."

[Y/N] watches as he walks up the steps and disappears into the hallway.

"The library?" a voice says incredulously. She turns back to Ron, whose face is scrunched in disbelief. "No, you weren't! We were waiting for you there and you never came."

[Y/N] folds her arms across her chest indignantly but doesn't respond, instead walking up the stone steps.

"Malfoy said he was waiting for you at the Astronomy tower," says Hermione slowly as they trail after her; [Y/N] speeds up her pace. "Is that why you mentioned going there during dinner last night?"

[Y/N] emerges into the main corridor first. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did!" bursts Ron, sounding downright triumphant.

"Congratulations, Ron, you don't have the memory range of a teaspoon, after all," [Y/N] mutters, looking around. Malfoy is walking down the hallway a few feet ahead of them, Crabbe and Goyle at his side.

Ron ignores her. "I bet you did go. I bet you did spy on him—" And then he gasps, looking as though he's unearthed the secret of life. "Merlin’s beard, you really do fancy him, don't you?"

[Y/N]'s footsteps falter. Ron, Harry, and Hermione stop right with her.

Hermione is the only one who doesn't look stunned out of her mind. Looking between the two boys, she rolls her eyes and scoffs. "Honestly, is that so hard to believe?" says Hermione, frowning. "I understand that it's Malfoy and he is a prick, but [Y/N] is perfectly entitled to fancy whoever she likes." She turns to [Y/N]. "It’s fine, [Y/N], you don't have to feel guilty about it. Anyone would catch feelings if someone started doing such sweet things for them, even if it were someone like Malfoy."

"Blimey," says Harry, breathless. "Which part sealed the deal, [Y/N]? The pick-up lines? Or was it the cupcakes?"

[Y/N], who had been opening and closing her mouth like a fish blown out of water, finally stops trying to find words that just aren't there and instead drags her palm across her face in frustration. "I don't.." she says, sounding defeated, but really—now that she's faced with such confrontation, it's easier to admit to herself that maybe.. maybe she does fancy Malfoy.

Ron’s lips have split into a jubilant grin. ”I called it!" he says, smacking Harry's shoulder. "Bloody knew it!"

Hermione reaches out to rub [Y/N]'s back. "Don’t feel too bad about it, [Y/N]. I sort of knew—you looked at him differently after he confessed to you on the pitch."

[Y/N] sighs, realizing that no amount  of denying it will convince her friends. Or herself.

She does fancy Malfoy.

Properly acknowledging it—finally admitting it to herself—is oddly relieving. She’s been keeping her feelings cooped up inside of her chest despite the fact they are so much bigger than her, and now that she's letting them burst free.. now that she's coming to terms with them..

Well. It’s not the worst feeling ever.

Ron is still beaming, looking as though he's won the lottery. And apparently, in a way, he has: "Fred and George said it'd take you a month longer to give in. I said it'd take you less—guess I’ve won myself two galleons!"

[Y/N]'s mouth falls open. "You bet on this?"

Ron raises his eyebrows, as though surprised to hear that she didn't know. "Uh, I and the entire bloody castle."

Struck by a sudden burst of both annoyance and confidence, [Y/N], scowling, detaches herself from her friends and strides down the hallway towards Malfoy, full of intent. He hasn't noticed her yet; his back is still turned, but she catches up to him easily. And when she does, she unceremoniously bumps her shoulder into his and grabs his hand, quickly interlacing her fingers through his.

"What the hell—"

Malfoy, obviously taken aback, tries to pull his hand away, sneering, until his gaze lands on [Y/N].

"Keep walking, Malfoy," she says scathingly, not quite looking at him.

Baffled, Malfoy stares at her, then down at their hands, which are now tightly interlocked between them. [Y/N] scowls resolutely at the hallway ahead of her.

And then Malfoy laughs, more out of disbelief than amusement.

"Keep walking," [Y/N] repeats, this time turning to look at him, fighting to keep her gaze indifferent. The last thing she wants Malfoy to know is that there is an onslaught of tiny little butterflies rampaging in her stomach and a tingly feeling spreading from their hands all the way up her spine and into her heart.

Malfoy’s lips tug up into a wide grin—a real one, [Y/N] thinks. Not an arrogant smirk or a deprecating sneer; one that she can't ever recall seeing. But now that she has, she finds herself wishing he'd do it more often.

[Y/N] tugs him along as she walks, feeling the stunned stares of her friends boring into her skull from behind. (Ron is going to have a field day about this.)

"So," Malfoy begins, and she doesn't have to look at him to know that he's still grinning down at her. "Changed your mind, haven't you?"

[Y/N] rolls her eyes; she doesn't fail to notice the way that the students they're passing by are staring at them, eyes wide, whispering to themselves. "Isn’t this what you wanted?"

Malfoy shrugs. "Among other things."

She side-eyes him, muttering, "Does that include snogging?"

He makes an amused sound at the back of his throat. "You said it, not me."

[Y/N] has to grit her teeth to stop the corners of her lips from tugging up. They turn a corner down the hallway, disappearing from both their friends' views (assuming they haven't followed them). At this thought, [Y/N] takes a brief glance over her shoulder—and sure enough, there's a redhead peeking out of a group of very confused Ravenclaws.

Cursing Ron Weasley inside her head, she turns her gaze back ahead of her. ”I have Charms class next."

Malfoy raises his brows. "And what do you expect me to do with that information?"

"Walk me there," says [Y/N] briskly.

She can practically feel the surprise radiating off of the blond next to her. A moment later, he throws his head back in a loud laugh. "And you want me to be late to Transfiguration? It’s all the way on the other side of the castle."

[Y/N] hums. "Can’t even do that for the girl you fancy?"

There’s a beat of silence. His grip on her hand falters a little as he says, voice still nonchalant and yet at the same time holding an undeniable sense of sincerity, "I could if I knew she wasn't leading me on."

"She isn't," [Y/N] says, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

Malfoy is staring at her with his brows pulled in together just slightly at the middle, giving off the impression that he's trying to decide whether or not she's being serious. He slows down his pace until he comes to a full stop, urging [Y/N] to halt alongside him until they're standing in the middle of the hallway, oblivious to the stares following them and the redhead a mere few feet away.

"How do I know this isn't a prank?" says Malfoy, lip slowly curling as he narrows his eyes at her, the first few traces of suspicion etching itself onto his face now that the whole ridiculousness of the situation has finally sunken in. [Y/N] can't blame him; her antics—suddenly marching up to him in the hallway, grabbing his hand and walking with him as though they've been doing it for years—all of it is uncalled for after having ruthlessly turned him down so many times before. But [Y/N] can't delve into a discussion of her conflicting emotions—at least not right now—so she hopes, at least for now, that he will take her word for it.

She clears her throat.  "Well," she begins, looking down at their hands; Malfoy’s grip has gone slack. "If I wanted to hold your hand, I’d do it because I wanted to. Not because I wanted to get a rise out of you." She lets her gaze go back up to his, brows rising in familiar challenge. "I don't stoop that low, Malfoy. You’ve been in love with me for years—shouldn't you know that by now?"

There are a few seconds in which the blond standing before her still looks at her with a scrutinizing gaze, lips set into a thin, hard line and his eyes swimming with conflict that [Y/N] wouldn't have been able to see from afar, but sees in perfect clarity now that she's standing a mere foot away from him. But then, after what feels like ages, Malfoy nods, slowly, frown smoothing out into an expression of—could that be relief?

"I will be late for Transfiguration, you know," he says, lips quirking up into a grin.

[Y/N] laughs. (A real one, Draco thinks to himself.) This time she doesn't try to stop herself from smiling; just lets her lips do so of their own accord. It feels nice. Freeing. "Better just one of us than two, don't you think?" she says, mirroring his playful grin. "And besides, Goyle can stand in for you. You two do have quite the resemblance."

"Oh, sod off."

And it really is very odd, because everything about this shouldn't feel right; they've been enemies for the longest time, and a year ago, [Y/N] would have been revolted at the mere idea of ever coming close to Draco Malfoy—but it does. That is, it feels right. Like they've been this way for ages and this playful, harmless banter is the most natural thing.

Draco isn't perfect—Merlin, does he have a long way to go—but if he means to stop being a prat as long as [Y/N] is at his side, then she is willing to venture into whatever has formed between them.

And if this little bond is going to involve any more of this—this being her and Draco exaggeratedly swinging their arms between them as he walks her to Charms class with their fingers still intertwined, snickering, waiting for one of them to start complaining about their arm sockets hurting—then maybe it isn't the worst thing ever, after all.

[vocalyunho]

company.

pairing — Yunho x reader (f) x ATEEZ

genre — smut [hand kink]

word count — 2.8k

warnings & tags — fingering, clit play, spanking (once), handjob’s mentioned briefly, attempts on being quiet, exhibitionism, voyeurism, masturbation, slight degradation, choking, cum eating.

synopsis — Yunho would’ve never guessed that his friends’ company would get you bothered, to this extent.

a/n — this fic is only connected to ‘skilled’ when it comes to Yunho being aware of his partner’s hand kink.

To say that Yunho took advantage of your special interest towards his hands, would be an understatement. The delicate and toned down boy who didn’t even give the right to his friends to make sexual jokes about what he and his girlfriend could be into inside the bedroom, got replaced by a man who didn’t value anything. The place, surroundings or situation didn’t matter to him anymore as long as he could receive a flustered or even embarrassed reaction from you that would lead you to being needy of him even in the most unsuitable occasions.

And speaking of unsuitable occasions, the fingers on your thigh flattened slowly… once again. The exposed flesh, under the blanket, got squeezed inside Yunho’s palm nonchalantly, as if no one was around. You side-eyed him, knowing very well he probably saw you through his peripheral view, but that wasn’t enough to stop him. His eyes never left the tv screen and neither did the eyes of his friends who didn’t seem to care about anything other than the interesting plot of the action film that was getting unrolled before them. 

Taking advantage of their ignorance, Yunho grazed the soft skin and your eyes widened. The scratches of his nails on your thigh usually get followed by a harsh slap that produces a loud noise… and, right now, there are no margins for loud noises and especially ones that don't come from the tv! So, you instantly moved your hand on top of his and turned it so his palm faced upwards before intertwining his fingers with yours.

Yunho smiled at that. A smile that was nowhere close to an innocent one or one that proved pure happiness that his girlfriend took his hand inside her smaller one. It was rather a smile that professed knowledge and determination. However, to your surprise, that action made him stop and relax in his seat while still staring at the tv. 

When a couple of minutes passed and you thought you had successfully gotten away with the abrupt inappropriate mood of your boyfriend, he suddenly shifted from his previous position and brought his lips close to your ear. A sharp breath was the only thing that prepared you for what he had to say.

“you know...those could be inside you right now”.

The long fingers tightened and untightened around yours, almost instantly, and so did your body which got into pilot mode from the fear that someone could’ve heard him. 

“stop”, you whispered back and Yunho chuckled quietly through his nose.

It, partly, wasn’t his fault for acting this way right now. It, actually, wasn’t his fault at all since you had caught him completely unprepared, earlier. Half naked and with his erection in your hand was he when the door in his bedroom got knocked. Hongjoong spoke up, from the other side of the door, asking for what your take-out orders would be for later when you all watched a movie together, and waited to write them down on his phone. Yunho’s eyes widened at his friend’s voice coming from so far yet so close, and his breath hitched when you didn’t stop pumping him and, instead, did it faster. You stared into his eyes as your hand tightened around his cock, making him groan as quietly as possible.

“come on, answer him”, you had whispered in his ear… sweetly abusing the stretched skin and feeling it hotter than ever before against your palm.

You had thought he’d be embarrassed to do as you’d told him, knowing that he never wanted his friends to know anything about his and his girlfriend’s sexual relationship, but what you didn’t know about was the recent need he had to brag to them.

“h-hyung can we tell you later?”

He had responded and you couldn’t believe he indirectly gave away that something sexual was happening inside the room… and that along with the fact that you left him hanging afterwards were the triggers for what he was doing now. He yearned for revenge and that revenge didn’t value the fact that all his dorm-mates were around.

“Yunho stop”, you warned him again when he changed the position of your hands, taking yours inside his and guiding it to his crotch. Your voice was calm, unlike his cock, and quiet enough not to overpower the sounds coming from the tv. But Yunho didn’t care. He guided it under the grey sweats and the underwear he had on until your small fingers could feel his wet tip. This shouldn’t affect you in any way, but knowing that he was hard while all his friends were around, made you feel something you’ve never felt before. You wrapped your hand around the width, without much thought, and squeezed him just enough for his eyes to shut softly and his head to fall back. 

The view was too good and the feeling too but, as much as Yunho would love to receive a handjob from you right then and there, he knew he’d love it more to see you getting all needy for him when you shouldn’t. 

He didn’t stop you but when his hand headed to the white rubber band of your shorts and slid under your panties, you momentarily stopped pumping him. The blanket remained immobile until his fingertips teased your folds making you forget about him and, selfishly, concentrated on yourself. He caressed and spread them for nothing but his mere amusement, giving complete attention to your face which had already morphed into a needy one.

“oh ggod”

Your face fell forwards, not really seeing anything other than the blanket that covered your bodies but what happened underneath it, was too much to process now.

“we shouldn’t-”, you managed to say but before you could finish, his pointer and middle finger teased your hole “Yunho...they-”

And in a finger was. Your brows raised pleadingly, not sure yourself if that meant that you needed him to continue or stop for the sake of his friends being around.

“they’re gonna know only if you don’t keep quiet”, he finished your sentence the way he wanted and pushed the digit in, knuckle deep.

At this point, not receiving any complaints for ‘too much talking’ by the other men was weird, but it relieved you...partly. Partly because the rest of you was getting turned on by the risk of getting caught by them. And the fact that Yunho had already turned you on by his shenanigans, didn’t help at all because now you didn’t want him to stop.

A trembling lip got trapped between your teeth when he started pumping the finger rhythmically. You wanted to close your legs to feel it more intensely but that would cause unnecessary movement to the blanket that could possibly bring all the attention to you, and that shouldn’t happen.

“i’ve only used a finger, how can you be so wet already?”

He didn’t receive a verbal response but your glance towards the people scattered on the other couches and on the floor in front of you while you and Yunho sat on the couch on the back, was enough of an answer. 

“you like risking it and i’m only finding out now?”

You nodded simply, eyes begging him to give you more and heart beating too fast from the effort not to make a sound. He should’ve known from earlier that you were into that, otherwise why would you have kept pumping him while Hongjoong was on just the other side of the door? 

The reminder of what happened a while ago made the veins on his arm more prominent as a second digit accompanied the first. He’d get you on the verge, no matter what. The new stretch was too sweet for you to bear not showing it. It seemed like the need to cry out travelled throughout your body and the way it found to get externalized was by gripping on the couch. Yunho smirked and kept penetrating the, now two, ‘heaven senders’ a little faster than before. 

His routine to fingering you was always the same, except for tonight, yet you hadn’t even noticed. It always started with him caressing you, then feeling your silk and spreading it all over, teasing your clit and, finally, giving you what you wanted… but tonight it was all messed up. The second and third steps had disappeared completely and so had the teasing of your clit which was necessary for getting you wet. But tonight, you’d gotten wet without the need of it…

Your back arched when he curled them and the grip on the couch tightened. 

“f-faster”

It was so embarrassing to think that you had no idea what was going on in the movie anymore and even more embarrassing the fact that you longed for him to give you every inch of his hands right then and there.

Taking advantage of your command, he hammered them faster. The soft silk made it feel like you sucked him in with every insertion and you couldn’t lie… you kinda did. Every withdrawal meant the slackening of your walls and every insertion, the complete opposite. The wetness had almost started creating a squelchy sound when, suddenly, a number of synchronized gasps resounded. Both your eyes widened and with a quick move, you brought your head up.

“what the fuck?”, Wooyoung shouted in disgust.

Yunho halted everything. It took you a long moment and several quick heartbeats to notice the weird looking creature that had come up on the screen and had gotten everyone’s attention. But you were glad it was that that Wooyoung was taken aback by. 

You didn’t control the palliative flattering of your eyes that followed, neither the sudden force of the long fingers that had your lips hanging open in a second. 

Yunho huffed out a quiet laugh and let his head fall forwards in an attempt to hide the mischievous smile. The continuous convulses made him scissor the digits and you almost lost it. That was when a low whimper left your throat, fortunately not too loud for anyone to hear, but still audible.

“keep it down if you wanna come”, he warned.

The secrecy of it all, the risk of getting caught and the fact that you completely depended on Yunho, as a whole, drove you mad. The knot on your belly had already formed. He had to continue.

In a second, you planted your feet on the couch and pushed your hips against him. You started grinding back and forth, in perfect synchronization with his pumps and it felt magical. That spot, finally, started getting teased, you could feel it getting repeatedly hit and with the increase of your grinding rhythm, he picked up the pace of his fingers too. Your eyes rolled back, your hands held on the couch for dear life as you moved along him. The burn was getting hotter inside you, you thought you had everything under control, including your moans until...Yunho pressed on your clit with his thumb and started circling the bud fast. 

And that’s when you completely lost it. 

The heavy breaths and low whimpers that had been struggling to keep down louder noises, lost their power and got replaced by a sudden -too loud- moan and a shudder on your lower back. 

Seven heads turned towards your direction. 

“what the fuck?”

“Yunho? y/n?” 

The men were lost with eyes wide and minds full of confusion. All they could see was you and Yunho cuddling (at least that’s what it seemed like) under a blanket. Everything under it, was hidden from them.

“what the hell’s going on?”

“you needed their attention so bad, huh?”, Yunho spit out, the cockiness in his tone more than noticeable.

“well, now you got it all”, he pushed the blanket off your bodies with his free hand exposing your position which was far from a normal one. The embarrassment you felt was instant but what he did next had that embarrassment getting mixed with something more. He pulled his hand out of you and sat on his knees in front of you, quickly man-handling you to pull the shorts and panties off your body. 

Your naked lower part had the seven boys gawking at the scene before them, some mouths were hung open but they only remained there, staring at what they had never expected to see...or had they?

“come on, spread your legs”, Yunho grumbled “just like you did before. you wanted them to see, didn’t you?”

You gasped when he spread your legs himself and pushed your knees close to your chest before stepping aside. The sticky silk felt both uncomfortable and in need to be used somehow. His fingers found your core once again but, instead of pushing in, he spread your folds exposing what the others weren’t meant to see but the fact that they were, drove you madly horny. 

“i’m so sorry”, you spoke softly “I-”

Your neck and back arched violently. The three digits went knuckles deep, emptying your mind instantly and filling your pussy instead. Yunho pumped them as if he hadn’t stopped previously, leaving zero space for embarrassment or apologies to his friends. 

Showing them his girlfriend losing her mind over something so insignificant to others as his fingers, was a confidence boost he only recently realised he needed. Now, everyone could witness the effect only he had on her and her body.

The squelchy sounds took over. Someone had paused the movie, thus now you were the center of everyone’s attention and Yunho bit his lower lip at the thought of everyone’s eyes being glued to you.

“tell the boys how good you feel”, he growled.

Your eyes, even though droopy and tired, met San’s whose cheeks were flushed from the view in front of him. You’re sure your own cheeks match the colour of his but the little tent between his legs that had started getting too prominent, got you uncontrollably confident out of nowhere. 

“s-so good, so fuckin’ good”, San’s eyes widened more. 

Yunho slapped your clit and San instantly lost contact with your stare as your brows raised and your head fell back. 

“please”, you cried “wanna come”

“you broke the rule”

“i’ll be g-good next time”, a sharp breath followed “y-your good girl- please-”

“PLEASE-”

You had him when you called yourself ‘his good girl’, he didn’t need anything more to abuse the swollen bud mercilessly. Random shapes on your clit accompanied the appearing and disappearing digits that fucked the wetness into your cunt repeatedly. Your lips parted, letting out moans needier than the one that had gotten everyone’s attention ab initio. 

Yunho loved this more than he should. He hammered them relentlessly making the silk produce sounds the boys would take long to get out of their heads. They reached deep, like every other time, but now it felt like he gave his all...scissoring them, curling them just for the sake of the reactions he’d receive.

“fuck yesyesyes”

One hand gripped on the couch harshly to keep you steady. It helped but what he did next was much more of a help. The hand from your clit, wrapped around your throat with force as the other didn’t stop abusing your hole. 

“you got them all worked up d’you see that?”

Your eyes couldn’t focus at first but when they did, your heartbeat quickened more. Wooyoung and Mingi were already stroking themselves at the scene before them and San’s head had fallen back as white ropes of cum had painted his naked abdomen. Only then did you realise that your voice wasn’t the only one echoing in the room...the groans and hisses of the men in front of you along with their actions, created a scene almost pornographic. 

The knot on your lower belly tightened uncontrollably  when Yunho’s fingertip reached the most sensitive part. 

“g-gonna come”

Your lips opened agape, one hand caught Yunho’s wrist that held on your throat and your eyes lost complete focus now. You cried out as a wave of electricity travelled from head to toe and with sudden flinches, you came over his fingers forgetting everyone else’s existence.

He didn’t pull out until the overstimulation got unbearable and then, again, he waited for you to get back to your senses before he licked the digits clean of your cum. It didn’t feel real. When you managed to think clearer, the fact that he had let his friends see all of this, see his girlfriend naked, vulnerable, getting fucked, didn’t feel real… and if that didn’t feel real, what happened next must be something taken from fanfiction.

“Yunho...”, Seonghwa’s voice resounded from behind everyone “c-can I lick her clean?”

[darkenedreaper]

I deleted the anons post because I’m dumb but have it stored in my mind.

More requests coming soon

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader, Laura Barton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, sorry.

Summary: After reader confesses her feeling to Natasha, Natasha choose Bruce, but she starts to regret her choice after the reader starts moving on.

Masterlist

Don’t Move On Without Me

You and the Russian, always had a special connection. Maybe it was because yoiu knew each other from the very start and knew about each others pasts. Maybe it was because when one if you was in the dark, the other would be the light. If one of you had a nightmare, you’d be running into each other room to have a peaceful rest of the night in the others arms. Natasha always came to you, no matter what the reason. The media and paparazzi had always tried to pose you off as a couple, and of course the fans shipped you. 

However, away from friendly things were romantic glances, or holding each other in front of the others the way Tony and Pepper would hold each other. If you were cooking, because Natasha can’t, she would be rubbing your arm, or rubbing your shoulder blade while telling you about her day. And on movie nights, she begged you not to miss it because of work. So it was instinct to brig your laptop along to movie night and while you would be typing away while the others watched the film, she’d snuggle up into your side, occasionally glancing at your screen. 

Everything was going fine and you thought you were getting closer and your confidence was building to ask Natasha out, but that all changed when Bruce had started to ‘hit’ on her. He would tell her stupid science jokes, and each time, her smile would grow wider, and her laugh became more from the heart, differently from when you made her laugh. If you woke up from a nightmare4, you’d do your routine thing by knocking on her door before gently opening the door there, only to see her bed was empty. Nights like that, you’d ask Jarvis where she was and he would constantly reply with, ‘Ms Romanoff has taken vacancy in Dr Banners room’.

Your Natasha had changed towards you. All of that was confirmed when her ad Dr Banner became an item. Tony of course threw a couples party but you chose to spend the night in your office. You’d doubt anyone would notice because they were too busy swooning over the mismatched couple. Bruce would stand awkward and slightly hunched. whilst she would stand ever so perfectly. Like the statue of a goddess, a smile plastering her face now and then. Ever since they became an item, you’d been overworking yourself, much to Steve's dismay. And so you wouldn’t think that anyone would notice you slipping out. Your raised your head at the sound of soft shoes on the harsh tiled floor, looking up to Clint wife, Laura. She was the only one who knew about your infatuation with Natasha. Laura would invite you over frequently, to take your mind of Natasha for a few hours. And every night, she would send a reminder to get to bed by an appropriate time, along with a loving message. Laura cared enough ot see how your habits had changed. She cared enough about you enough to just send a text. So she sat with you until it was time for Clint to take her and the kids back. Natasha didn’t care. Although you never knew what she really felt. 

Ever since Natasha and Bruce had coupled up, she has started to see less of you. She knew it was cruel of her to ignore you, but she didn’t want to face you and pretend she was happy with her boyfriend. She didn’t want to stay in his room night after night. She wanted to be by his side when she was scared, or anxious or when she had something funny today. But she wanted to do that with you. She had snuck out of the scientists arms to enyer your room only to see you weren’t there. Your phone was. She decided to check if you had anythig connected to it. She found what she was looking for on the icons at the top right, but she also saw 2 new messages from Julia. She put herself upright and at the thought of this Julia, she felt a pang of jealousy rise in her chest. She didn’t even know the woman or who she was to you, but she didn't like her. Nat missed having you by her side in movie night, but she didn’t get the chance to save your seat because Bruce lobbed himself next to her. She wanted to tell the team to wait until you’d arrive, but you’d missed the last 3 movies, so they played it anyway. Natasha didn’t care about the action on the screen because she got up in searrch of you. And during the first half of the movie ,she had actually removed his arm around her neck.

Natasha asked Jarvis where you were and he told her you were in your office. Natasha stalked the corridor to your office quietly, and before she could see you, she heard the keyboard and mouse clicking away. She smiled to herself for a second remembering how she called you a workaholic but enjoyed watching you concentrate. But seconds after her smile turned into a frown when her ears heard Jarvis say, ‘Ms L/N, you have an incoming call from Julia. Would you like me to connect it to your laptop?’ She heard your voice a little clearer and her heart sank a little when she heard you answer it. 

‘Hey babe, how's work?’, the voice she assumed the voice was Julia's. It was the first time in weeks, that she had heard your voice. She slowly walked off, not wanting to hear anymore. She had silently walked off to your room and slumped herself onto the floor outside your door. Maybe you’d wait for her. But all she’d tell anyone know was that she’d be waiting for you. You were happy talking to another woman. And it was evident this woman was closer than Natasha will ever get. 

[wdwmarveldisney]

She’s gone

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Summary: Peter and reader are dating when she finds out she has hodgkin lymphoma and makes a few videos for Peter.

Masterlist

A/N: I don’t know why I wrote this but I did. I was also emotional when doing so, so that’s probably why it turned into angst. This idea has probably been done before but eh.

Tw: Talks about Hodgkin Lymphoma (a type of cancer) and death of a character.

(Gif isn’t mine)

The camera was unfocused, the bright light that shone in the background making her a blurry silhouette. Slowly everything became clear, the girl in the driver's seat tapping her fingers on the steering wheel and staring ahead. From what was passing by the window, the people seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, passing the nothingness as they went. The last few seconds of a song faded out and another began, the girl immediately smiling to herself and reaching it over to turn it up and scream the lyrics. For You by Why Don't We was a great song but not exactly the best with her out of tune screams of the words. "HEY! SHE SAID 'I REALLY MISS THE OLD YOU'! THEN FOUND SOMEONE BETTER!" A laugh had escaped the lips of whoever filming, camera shaking as the girl finally turned to face them. "Peter, put it away! I swear to fucking god!" She reached over, the car seeming swerving every so slightly making Peter laugh at her panicked expression. "Stop being such a dick! Stop recording!"

"No, it was adorable," Finally Peter spoke before the camera flipped and moved so both of them could be seen. His eyes were practically glowing in the light, his brown hair reflecting in such a way the ends looked golden. He pouted slightly at her when she held up her middle finger to him. "Fuck you Parker," her little annoyed mutter made him smile as he faced her, intertwining their fingers and resting them on the compartment in between. "You do," the girl's jaw literally dropped as she glanced between him and the road, stuttering out responses that were really just noises strung together to make up nothing translatable. Peter's laugh echoed once more but this time his grin was captured in the shot too. It was wide and as bright as the light that filled up the car with this vintage kind of vibe. Finally, his laughter subsided, his eyes going to her and then the camera. "Anyways, I'm recording because I think it's cool to document moments like this. So future us and anybody else watching this video, me and my wonderful girlfriend here," she pulled a stupid face to the camera, tongue sticking out and nose scrunching up, before looking back to the road, "Are on a road trip. We just visited her extended family and are on our way back to her apartment where her mum is waiting and the roads are basically empty,"

"And Peter almost killed my grandma!" This time his jaw dropped, a blush making its way to his cheeks as he shook his head repeatedly. "I didn't, I swear. All that happened was that I gave her a hug and with my super strength, it hurt her like a tad," she shook her head this time, looking to the camera as she spoke, "She has bruises," Peter had a guilty and sorry expression on his face that made her laugh as she continued, "And yet, he still got more birthday cake then me. On my birthday!" They both laughed this time, the camera zooming in on her perfect grin before the video ended.

~

This time, the camera was on Peter who sat leaning against the headboard of a bed on his phone, no doubt scrolling through some form of social media. The camera was moved so it became propped up against something and once again the same girl was in the shot, sitting next to Peter whilst glancing between his screen and his concentrated look. She moved to rest her head in his lap, the boy moving the phone to see her cheeky smile. He grinned back, turning his phone off and immediately playing with a strand of her hair. "Hi," she mumbled and it seemed to make his grin go wider as he leaned down and pecked her lips, "Hey," the girl sat up and reached over to the camera to stop the video, Peter's arm going round her waist as she did so.

~

It was the same place as before where the camera was propped up except this time it looked like a sunset or sunrise, Peter sleeping whilst his girlfriend filmed herself. "Hey Pete. Okay so, I want to just quickly point out how fucking adorable you are for starters," her hushed tone was a clear sign that she didn't want to wake him up but the over the top pointing could of easily hit him in the face. "But what I really wanted to do is say I love you. I've got a secret from you but by the time you see this, you'll know and so this is just me, telling you again, I guess. I know I'll tell you soon because I can't lie to you," tears had welled up in her eyes, a small sniffle being heard as she faced the sleeping Peter, "Oh god. I don't want to leave. You deserve so much better than this. Ok," she took one deep breath, calming herself as she looked to the camera again, new tears already flooding down her face like an overfilled river. "Um, I recently found out that I, er, I have," there was a pause, the next bit being too hard to say, "I have hodgkin lymphoma. It's a, um, a type of cancer," she took a shaky breath, her focus on her fingers that had reached across to a sleeping Peter's hand and began to fiddle with his, "And I'm having treatment but, it's bad," Peter began to stir and she had been quick to wipe at her face and shut off the camera, cutting off the her actually telling him.

~

Peter was shown having a slushy, holding hands of the person holding the camera. He smiled brightly, face scrunching up, no doubt thinking it was another picture and not a video. "Ok, we are going into that store over there and you are picking out clothes for me and some for you and I'll pay for all of it," the girl from behind the camera spoke and Peter's face immediately dropped as he finished his slushy and chucked into a bin not too far away, "You will not pay," the camera flipped round to face her, her chapped lips twisted into a teasing smile, "And they say chivalry is dead," she was suddenly standing up, half of Peter's face visible in the shot before he placed a peck to her cheek and hugging her, the girl simply continuing to film over his shoulder. "I love you," his calm whisper into her hair was muffled but she could still hear it, responding in a small voice, "I love you too,"

When they got into the shop, he disappeared with a small "Bye," and his girlfriend moved to the side, sitting down in the shoe area and holding the camera up. "So a public place isn't the best area to do this but I wanted to have happy moment before each of these because that's what we are. And this is the first video of a few. I love you and I know you better than anyone else. Maybe not May, but still. The point is, I know when I'm gone you're going somehow flip the blame onto you. You've already started doing it since I told you and I hate it. This isn't your fault and it isn't mine. These things can happen and I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry that it's happening to you. Because I know and have excepted that I'm going to the unknown but you, you have to live with this and you are so strong. You been through so much and you're still the best fucking person I know and I can't believe that had the privilege to know you let alone love you. You are everything that is good in the world rolled into this little package of adorableness and no matter how many punches you take, you always get up and laugh with people and make jokes and be the best human being to ever exist. So this first video is me telling you, don't blame yourself and move on. Because you deserve more than anybody can give you and I want you to be happy for the rest of your life," she was full on sobbing, looking extremely weird to passers by. "I need to go so then you don't know I did this because I cried my fucking eyes out," and once again the video stopped.

~

A loud bang followed by a frustrated scream was the first thing that filled the speakers. Peter had the camera on him, staring off at something out of shot with this dopey grin on his face. "You okay there?" He asked cautiously, hand running through his curls. Suddenly his grin was wider, rushed footsteps in the background, and he stumbled as if just pushed or hit by something. The camera lowered to show his girlfriend hugging him. "School fucking sucks," She looked at the phone, pouting slightly as she snatched it out of his hands. "That's mine," he laughed, hugging her from behind as she aimed the camera towards them, "Yeah I stole it. I was texting Ned on there 'cause mine's out of battery," the girl gave a small nod, moving her head to snuggled closer to his neck as he pecked her cheek.

Another bang was heard from elsewhere and Peter sighed, glancing behind him. "That's May. I've gotta go help her," one quick kiss to her forehead and he was gone and her smile slowly faded. "This isn't exactly how I planned to do this one but I'm gonna go with it. Hi again, this is the second one and I want to start again with I love you. I want you to do something for me. I know I live with my mum and I've rarely met the Avengers but I also know you deflect pain. Most of the time it's to helping people but when it's all too much, you get angry and you yell at people at random points 'cause you're bottling it up and I know that it's just going to be those heroes who get it. So I want you to, every time you want to scream and shout and blame someone for some small meaningless thing, I want you to tell them how you're feeling. I want you to talk about everything because as much as I love you, your dumb as fuck to not see how many people care for you and are willing to hear you out. I don't care if you don't want to burden anyone, okay? 'Cause you're not. They are there for you so be a man and talk about your feelings. I'm sure they'd prefer helping you than being at by you, okay? You're probably going to get back soon so I should go but, um, there's only one more to go and I love you,"  The camera shut off, her wobbly smile and tear stained cheeks being the last things to be seen.

~

The camera zoomed in on the intertwined fingers before going to the ridiculous amount of snacks and finally to the movie playing on the screen. Then it faced the side where Peter was shoving a hand full of popcorn into his mouth and trying not to choke when he saw the camera on him. He had a buzz-cut now, no doubt recently shaving his hair off. "It's movie night! Put it away!" The camera flipped to show his lovely girlfriend who now had no hair. And yet, she was still smiling and laughing despite things not exactly being okay. She then turned to get them both in the shot, a massive grin on her lips. "Look what this amazing human being did for me! How am I so lucky?" Peter snatched the phone, turning the video off. 

~

There was a lot of shouting in the background, laughter mixed in. the camera faced the cream ceiling, pieces of hair visible every now and then."You can't Peter! It's bad luck! Get out!" His laughter became muffled after the slam of a door and the camera finally showed the girl, no different to the time before except maybe slightly paler and she had a little bit of makeup on. She smiled brightly to the camera and moving over to some sort of desk to prop her phone up. "Ok, so no happy moment before this one because if you can't tell by the dress I'm wearing or the me just kicking you out my room, it's the non official wedding," Her hands went to the waistband of her white dress that ended at her knees and looked like something you'd wear to a prom. "You're a terrible husband if you don't remember that and I want a divorce," She let a breathy laugh leave her lips, placing her hands on her head. "In case you actually don't remember or there's someone else watching this, MJ did the ceremony, Ned walked me down the aisle and was best man and Harry was the maid of honour but he refused to wear the pink dress I got him because it didn't work with his eyes so he's got that blue dress that he's wearing. Right, this is the third and last one. I can't believe you set this up. I told you that I was so upset that I wouldn't spend the rest of my life with you and wouldn't get to have a wedding with you and you set this up because legally we can't get married so we're getting fake married. My mum and May are literally the only guests and they are getting flowers so I'm alone right now in my room until they get back and fuss over me," 

She sat down in the swivel chair, smile still present on her face. "Alright, this one is pretty much what I've been saying the last two videos except I'm actually saying it this time. I want you to look after yourself, okay? I don't want you doing anything stupid when I'm gone like getting yourself hurt overworking as Spiderman. Take a break, there are other heroes out there who are more than willing to help you if you can't do it. Move on, please. I know that it's going to be hard but I'm always going to be a part of your life, whether I'm there or not and you just have to accept that. Also, I know this probably won't help with the move on but can you check in with my mum every now and then. She's trying to act all strong but she's just like you and she's losing a daughter so just, keep her happy, for me? Please. Just be good to yourself  and move on. Ok this is the last one and I'm about to talk to my mum about sending you these when I'm gone so, I love you," And the camera stopped, catching the girl's broken expression rather than bright beautiful smile.

~

There was cheering, the video focus on Peter and his girlfriend kissing, whilst the few people around them clapped and cheered for the 'married' couple. Peter was lightly brushing away tears from her face when they pulled away, her doing the same to him. He suddenly smiled wide and picked her up bridal style, kissing her once more. "Ok Parker, you can stop kissing my little girl now!" Her mother shouted, Peter smiling sheepishly towards her but was soon brought into another kiss. When they pulled away, she stuck her tongue out to her mum before turning to Peter and pointing down the makeshift aisle. 

~

The lights were dim but the video was still clear. It was the two dancing, swaying to the slow song as Peter rested his chin on the top of her head. She was clearly crying as was Peter, the two looking like they were holding on for dear life. Sweet whispered 'I love you's were shared and then the video stopped.

~ 

Peter wiped at his eyes harshly. It was the third time watching them since... And he still sobbed his eyes dry. I mean, of course he did, it was his first love. He hadn't even told the Avengers, whenever they asked if he was going to bring her to another party or if they'd get to meet her again, he'd just walk out. Go try not to break down somewhere where no one could see him. But he felt okay watching this on the big screen in the living room of the compound because no one was home or at least that was what he thought. And to begin with, they weren't. Actually it was the time he took to set up linking his phone to the TV that they all walked in quietly. That they all saw everything on those videos. That they finally understood why he was holding back from missions or patrolling every night. Why he wasn't free for dinner every Wednesday because 'he and May had dinner with someone important'. Why he wasn't spending his entire day talking about you anymore. They had thought it had been a break up, like a really bad one but it wasn't. So Peter sat sobbing on the couch, the superheroes crying behind him, yet to make their presence known. Even Natasha and Bucky were crying.

"Hey kid," Tony finally managed to say, Peter jumping up and spinning round to see them all there. "Um, how long have you been... there?"Just from their faces he knew, trying to cover up the fact he'd been crying but Tony immediately held his hands out as if it would stop him. "Wanna talk about it?" He looked like he was going to say no but then his eyes met Tony's and he had launched himself at the man. "She's gone," He cried into the man's shoulder, holding on like he was a lifeline. 

"Y/N's gone,"

[nutty1005]

Exclusive Visit of 72 Hours! Full Record of “A Dream Like A Dream” Behind the Scenes

Original Article: https://mp.weixin.qq.com/s/yI4arm9P9nJwE3RMSUW-5Q Original Author: 杨晋亚 Translator’s note: The original author is part of Yuli Studio, this article is published in Yuli Studio’s Weixin Official Account on 23 Apr 2021 as a part of “Behind the Screens” Volume 640.

On 22 Apr, “A Dream Like A Dream” Wuhan Charity show was still in the midst, countless related topics were already on Weibo Hot Search.

This is probably the hottest play on the internet till date.

A big intellectual property that lasted for 21 years, and now with the addition of the hottest celebrity, debuted for the first time as a Charity Show in honor of the heroes of the pandemic last year, “A Dream Like A Dream” contained stories on stage and backstage.

Before the official start of the play, Yuli Studio walked into the backstage of “A Dream Like A Dream”, and entered the dream in advance.

“A Dream Like A Dream”

Celebrity Cast

On 19 Apr noon, 15 minutes before the first full dress rehearsal for “A Dream Like A Dream”, there were not much audiences, they were all in the lotus pond seats.

Overall producer Wang Keran was suddenly notified that there was someone recording secretly, he immediately called the executive producer Da Shan to check, who had already expressed multiple times that audiences were not the take pictures. Wang Keran face turned gloomy, loudly accused Da Shan of incompetency, stood up, “Trusted friends who are currently seated, I hope that everyone would protect the actors, stop filming.”

Afterwards Wang Keran told us, his anger then was actually “for show”, that situation needed him to make a stand, scold Da Shan so as to alert everyone else, “I needed to kill two birds with one stone, control the scene, protect the actors.”

Xu Qing, Xiao Zhan, Zhang Liang, Huang Lu… the addition of many celebrity actors, caused the interest in “A Dream Like A Dream” to increase.

Protecting his actors, was something that Wang Keran always did ever since he built this group.

Yanghua Theatre and Baoli Theatrical Center collaborated and did some massive and intricate work, in order to ensure that protection project was as per usual, “The theaters put in a lot, the meager profits that this project is giving them, can’t completely cover their massive investment.”

Wang Keran also helped to block countless signature and photograph requests for Xiao Zhan, his good friend had came from afar to Wuhan just for a photograph with Xiao Zhan, but Wang Keran did not agree, “I promised a clean creative environment for my actors.”

The “A Dream Like A Dream” group tried their best to give all the actors an equal, harmonious creative environment, and in here, there is no celebrity actor Xiao Zhan, only Patient No. 5 B.

In the backstage of the Wuhan Qintai Theatre, the plaque on the door of Xiao Zhan’s resting room was not labelled “Xiao Zhan”, but “No. 5”.

Director Chen Limei and Zhang Rui said that the group did not treat Xiao Zhan specially as a celebrity; Actress Huang Lu, who portrayed the role Jiang Hong, had the most scenes with Xiao Zhan, she said that everyone was just actors.

Privately, Xiao Zhan would treat Huang Lu fruits, as well as recommend good motives to her, Huang Lu said, working with Xiao Zhan was not much different from working with other partners, the only difference was that there were suddenly a lot of Xiao Zhan fans leaving messages on her Weibo, most of them were messages of encouragement and support.

“A Dream Like A Dream” , Xiao Zhan, Huang Lu

During the very initial rehearsals, the director closed Huang Lu and Xiao Zhan into a small practice room, in order to cultivate tacit understanding.

“When we were rehearsing the French portion of the play, I knew he was from Chongqing, I would suddenly use French translated to Wuhan dialect to talk to him, what d’ya wanna eat what d’ya wanna eat, and then he would suddenly reply me in Chongqing dialect.”

Huang Lu remembered, when Xiao Zhan entered the group, he had already memorized all of his lines, the tacit understanding between them were built up within 3 or 4 days, and on the details of the performance, they would also inspire each other.

For example, the biggest reaction from the audience in the Wuhan show was the scene in the Parisian apartment, actually contained Xiao Zhan’s designs, when they spoke the lines “Monday Wednesday Friday Tuesday Thursday Saturday and Sunday”, Xiao Zhan suggested that the two of them would lean their heads on each other, so as to give a better effect.

When the two of them were conversing in comedic Japanese scene, there were traces of the old version of the play, but there were new creativity as well, “Pikachu” was from the old version, whereas “sleeping” was an idea that Xiao Zhan came up with.

“A Dream Like A Dream”, Xiao Zhan, Huang Lu

The duration for “A Dream Like A Dream” was long, the lines voluminous, there was once during rehearsal, one of the actors had a sudden breakage and his lines became more and more scattered, voice lower and lower, that day Director Chen Limei gave him a stern talking to, but in the director’s memory, this problem never occurred to Xiao Zhan.

“Xiao Zhan was very serious, we could all feel that, every night after he went back, he definitely thought through his scenes once more, so that he would not make this kind of mistake.”

Xiao Zhan expressed that his familiarity with the lines had gone to the state that he could say it “whenever”, he was more focused on the “current feeling and the chemistry with his partners.”

Xiao Zhan was very strict with his own expectations, on the 19th after the first full dress rehearsal, there were many audiences who gave his performance good reviews, but he said, “I’m not quite satisfied with today, it wasn’t as good as yesterday.” Although the audiences did not spot any problems with the lines from the scene ”Monday Wednesday Friday Tuesday Thursday Saturday and Sunday”, but after the performance ended, Xiao Zhan himself felt that there were some slight flaws.

“A Dream Like A Dream”, Xiao Zhan

The lotus pond seats in “A Dream Like A Dream” to Xiao Zhan was a challenge, it made it easy for him to lose concentration, and once you had lost it, it would be easy for the scene to scatter, he described, “the feeling in concerts is that you need to interact simultaneously, plays to me meant that I need to make myself lonely”, so he needed to make sure he could ignore the audiences.

Wang Keran invited theater critics to view the play for the 19th’s full dress rehearsal, after the upper half ended, they were exclaiming in praise of Xiao Zhan’s acting, Wang Keran also proudly recommended this newly found actor to people around him: “He had a different layer of creativity process, the first day we’ve finished the script, he surprised me onstage the second day, it was green but came with a lot of accurate instincts. He constructed the character to be intricate and abundant, but yet layered, not just emotional scenes, everyone could burst into emotions, but he was intricate, lively and entertaining, he conveyed the soul of the character, his sense of pace was this good.”

“A Dream Like A Dream” Performance Stage

The story of “A Dream Like A Dream” and Xiao Zhan had to begin with the Cao Yu 110 Anniversary Special Event last year.

In 2019, Wang Keran heard of Xiao Zhan’s name, but he quickly forgot about it. “Then I was in Wuxi, there was a large excited crowd of people, said that the hottest actor, Xiao Zhan, was in there.”

Until 2020, a psychiatrist friend told Wang Keran, to take note of this actor Xiao Zhan.

“Before then I was an older person, I’ve always picked actors above 35, but after the psychiatrist finished talking, I started subconsciously noticing this person, and then I found out that this person was really interesting.

How interesting? There were a lot of people attacking him, I thought I’d understand what these attacks were, I found out that these people were a contradiction of the most realistic things and most hypocritical things, this era’s idols were different from 5 years ago, they are now placed on a pedestal as a symbol, as something to be fought over or stepped upon. Via Xiao Zhan I noticed the new pulse in the development of society, understood this movement, art should be something that is most compatible with the times, my personal view on plays is just like this, plays should be the current drama action of this moment, and the emotional relationship of the people here and now.”

“A Dream Like A Dream”, Xiao Zhan

The commemoration event for Cao Yu, Wang Keran needed to find a young guest who could have a conversation with Wan Fang, a colleague suggested Xiao Zhan, Wang Keran suddenly realized, this was perfect, “The complexity on Xiao Zhan would fully represent the complexity of plays.”

The first time he met Xiao Zhan, Wang Keran captured the mysterious sense of fate behind his back, but yet he also gave a sense of youthful obtrusiveness, gentle and warm. Wang Keran gave Xiao Zhan a list of books and asked him to go back and read, after which Xiao Zhan finished the books in a few days, even wrote some 10 over questions to Wan Fang, the questions were simple but deep, and moved Wang Keran.

On the Cao Yu Commemoration Event, Wang Keran studied Xiao Zhan, and found that his sense of stage was fantastic, and immediately invited him to join “A Dream Like A Dream”.

To Wang Keran, the similarity between Xiao Zhan and Patient No. 5 was that they were both trapped in the uncertainties of fate.

Xiao Zhan’s portrayal of Patient No. 5 gave Wang Keran a pleasant surprise, as to whether he would continue as Patient No. 5 after this year’s shows, they had not spoken about it, but Wang Keran felt that “A Dream Like A Dream” already gave Xiao Zhan some rewards, “I feel that via this play, he can prove that he is a good actor, I feel that ‘A Dream Like A Dream’ gave him a power.”

“A Dream Like A Dream”, Xiao Zhan

Entering the Dream Again

Not only Xiao Zhan was a new addition, the Yanghua version of “A Dream Like A Dream” had almost a brand new cast.

Zhang Liang and Yanghua had collaborated for 2 plays, they were old friends; Huang Lu was recommended by Xu Qing, she was also the only actress that was confirmed without meeting Wang Keran.

Director Zhang Rui was in-charged of arranging actors, but because of the pandemic, the Taiwanese actress who was supposed to play the role of the wife could not arrive, another actress had to take on this role. “A Dream Like A Dream” had a total of 31 actors and actresses, many times one would take on multiple roles, any adjustment of actors would have big ramifications.

Zhang Rui created many versions of the casting chart, “This casting chart was an intricate process, move an actor, we might need to reallocate every scene, whether they could make the scene in time, whether they were suitable, reasonable, I’m so frustrated my hair’s dropping.”

Starting from 2013 when “A Dream Like A Dream” premiered in Mainland China, Director Chen Limei and Zhang Rui grew with this play for 9 years. Chen Lipai previously also handled the role of Stage Executive, Zhang Rui was with the crew everyday, there were the two who were most familiar with “A Dream Like A Dream”.

In their memory, the first rehearsal for 2013 lasted 3+ months, after which if there were not much changes with the actors, repeat rehearsals would last 1 week. Some years they had to change an actor, but yet they did not give sufficient rehearsal time and almost drove the actor insane, “Because the crowd actor had to act as multiple roles, the management of every role was complex, he needed to remember his position, his clothes, and he had to depend on himself, there would be no one backstage to inform him, he had to take care of himself.”

“A Dream Like A Dream”

This year, more than half of the cast was changed, theoretically they needed one and a half months, but to gather 31 actors to rehearse at the same time was not easy, the group merely squeezed out 17 days for practice time.

Practice time started officially from 9 Mar, the group settled in Hebei Tangshan, the time was tight, the mission was heavy.

Lai Shengchuan, who was faraway in Taiwan, gave instructions via video conferencing to the actors, to help answer their questions. Wang Keran, Chen Limei and Zhang Rui handled the task of direction.

Wang Keran mainly handled the mini classes to the new actors to the group, every actor had different classes to attend.

Huang Lu was a movie actress, her method for lines was to say to herself, but “A Dream Like A Dream” was to say them to 1200 audiences, Wang Keran gave her a training method, “He made me rehearse only with Xiao Zhan, each of us would stand at the furthest corner, but we must be able to hear each other’s lines, that is we needed to get used to speaking loudly, I felt that this method was actually quite crucial.”

“A Dream Like A Dream”, Xiao Zhan and Huang Lu during practice

When he first entered the group, Zhang Liang was tortured by the role of the Baron for 3 days, he totally could not find the sensation, Wang Keran gave him 3 days of progressive classes. The first class was to control the micro expressions and movements, “For example, the first day I reached Tianxian Court, he requested that when I did gestures, my hands could not be higher than my chest, when we normally spoke my palm would face up, but he said that the Baron could not have a moment where his palm was facing up, his palm would forever be facing down.”

The second class was culture class, discussing European culture, politics and artistic background, so as to understand the motives behind Baron’s actions. “Baron would not let Xianglan draw abstract art, made her start from still life, it actually had political connotations. Classical realism represented calm and control, whereas abstraction and symbolism, etc, developed from the lowest of the masses, represented the destruction to order, Baron hoped from the bottom of his heart that Xianglan would live with him, if you liked something he didn’t like, that represented betrayal to Baron, that’s where the cracks in their relationship started.”

Chen Limei and Zhang Rui understood every detail of “A Dream Like A Dream”, when the actors gave any small questions, they would immediately solve them.

For example, how to swiftly get into positions, what to wear after changing out, both directors could immediately give the correct answer, “We found that this time round that one of the new actors was slow in moving, he would say he could not make it, I would say you definitely could make it, you tell me why you couldn’t make it, I would know where you did wrong. He said it was very dark and he couldn’t find his bag, and he needed to take the gun from 2nd floor to the 1st floor, I said there’s another prop gun downstairs, you don’t have to carry it down, he said he didn’t know. We actually spoke to him after observing him for a few days, because we knew that the 2nd floor was very dark, we definitely had to ensure the safety of our actors first.”

“A Dream Like A Dream”, Xu Qing, Xiao Zhan, Zhang Liang, Huang Lu, Lan Nan, etc.

The time left for the directors was not much, rehearsal, costume, positions, etc, all had to be done simultaneously, the volume of “A Dream Like A Dream” was supposed to be large, there were pressures on progress, the experience for the whole group was basically demonic scheduling.

For example, for 22 Apr Charity Show, the schedule for the actors that day was like this —

10:30 to 11:30 Actors and actresses would set of from their hotels to the theater for make up and costume; 12:30 Lunch; 12:30 Microphone testing; 13:10 Warm up; 13:30 Audience entry; 14:00 Start of Charity Show.

After nearly 8 hours of performance, when the actors were having their media session it was already 30 minutes past midnight.

Everyday they worked for around 12 hours, that would be the normal hours for the group for the month, during practice they did not wear their make up and costume, but they still had to set out by 12:00, practice starts 13:00, 17:00 was dinner, 18:00 was practice again, and they end at 22:00.

“This time round we really went for it, we didn’t work this hard previously, because we changed very few people then, we could probably get to the practice at 2pm,” Chen Limei said.

“A Dream Like A Dream”, actors practicing

The tight rehearsal schedule was a challenge physically to the actors, as they practiced day and night everyday, even Huang Lu felt lost once.

“Because we would be acting the same thing everyday, everyday when you went in, it was day, but when you left, it was night, that period of time I really craved a normal life. There was once we were video conferencing with Teacher Lai, I just said that after this play, I suddenly feel that plays, movies weren’t that important, what’s important was our real life, I especially wanted to experience communicating with people, the feeling of being with family, friends and loved ones.

When you filmed dramas, you would still be outside, after you knock off you could be in touch with a more realistic life. When I was in the same play group as Zhang Ruoyun, we practiced in Beijing, everyday we practiced for around 3 hours, we could still meet friends in the afternoon and night, but this play was concentrated practice, when we left it would already be midnight.”

“A Dream Like A Dream”, Xu Qing and Huang Lu during practice

Wang Keran could foresee, that actors would experience this type of lethargy, so the arrangement from the very beginning was that after the 17 days of practice, the group would briefly rest for a period of time, until a week before the Wuhan Show, where he would recall them.

This method of working was not easily seen in plays, but to actors, this was a good time to rest and digest.

“The first day we returned, Keran said that was the best time I’ve acted with Xiao Zhan,” Huang Lu said. “Perhaps in-between I had time to digest, get in touch with real life, and had a new understanding.”

In comparison with “A Dream Like A Dream” from 8 years ago, besides the changes in actors, this year’s Yanghua version also shortened the script by around 15 minutes or so, without affecting the foundation of the script.

The adjustment was mainly on the pace of the actors. For example, at the end of the upper half, the housekeeper of the castle would talk about the past of Baron and Gu Xianglan, it used to use a slow and narrative tone, Wang Keran felt that it was not right, “This type of expression seemed to cause Grandpa, who just arrived at Shanghai, to seem unfamiliar with his surroundings, but in fact, Grandpa was very familiar with the castle, he could have returned frequently, like the feeling of a tour guide,” so he adjusted the tone and pace, and made the play richer and more layered.

“A Dream Like A Dream”, Xu Qing, Zhang Liang, Lan Nan

Every improvement in detail, came from written notes from everyday.

When rehearsing, both directors would sit in the middle of the lotus pond, with a small table, and a faint table lamp, the actors would be acting while the directors discover problems and mark it in the script, or write furiously on white paper, after the end of a day’s rehearsal, the paper would be littered with over 200 to 300 notes.

After the rehearsal ends, actors would sit together in the lotus pond and listen to the directors reading the notes one by one, every actor would record down their respective portions.

Xiao Zhan’s phone memo was full of everyday’s notes, for example there were around 10 notes for 19 Apr, Xiao Zhan’s note taking method was simple and concise, note down the scene, or a point, with the remarks of watch out for emotion or pace.

In Zhang Liang’s memory, with regards to his notes, there were up to 20 notes a day, but later on as the problems lessened, the notes also reduced.

Director Chen Limei said, some actors would be confused, why were there always 200 to 300 new notes everyday during the note session, did that mean that they had not improved, but actually everyone was getting better on the basis that they were already getting better.

“A Dream Like A Dream”, the directors at the rehearsal

There was a process in practicing, at the start you might not have memorized all the lines, that note would be about lines, when the lines passed, it could have been about wrong position or movement, at the last part when the acting was getting better, I might notice intricate details such as costume, hairstyle, which you needed to notice carefully. Every stage had its own set of problems discovered, only when you walked from Step 1 to Step 2 that I can see the problems of the current step, otherwise my focus would not be that.”

For example, on the last day before the official show, the note for Xiao Zhan became “the singing before the curtain call, stand slightly westwards” this type of small details.

After experiencing the full dress rehearsal of 18, 19 and 20 Apr, the last day of rehearsal became “note rehearsal”, that is to repeatedly rehearse based on the problems in the notes so as to affirm the scenes that could easily cause issues, including the group scene at Tianxian Court, the scenes between Baron and Young Xianglan, etc. For Xiao Zhan and Huang Lu, the scene they rehearsed was the propless scene around the staircase, which needed to take note of the eye contact as they two of them went up and down the stairs, entering by pushing the door.

After the premiere on 22nd ended, the notes continued, so as to have new improvements for the consecutive shows.

“A Dream Like A Dream”, Xu Qing, Zhang Liang, etc.

Idealism

After the full dress rehearsal ended on 19 Apr, all of the actors gathered backstage, surrounding the directors, quietly standing, it seemed like a special ceremony.

For the new actors who joined this year, this was their first time witnessing this ceremony, but to the actors who had been with “A Dream Like A Dream” before, this had already became a habit.

Director Chen Limei introduced that this ending ceremony was called “Echo”, it was a habit from Lai Shengchuan — a habit that existed since the first premiere in 2013, “When we finish a show, and gain the applause from our audiences, as well as new empathy for our roles, we must return this feelings out, give them to more people, you can imagine that there was a large crowd of people, we would send out these blessings and share them.”

After “A Dream Like A Dream” came to Mainland China, it had always been well acclaimed, it used to show in Beijing and another specific city. Starting the 9 Cities Tour, especially adding the Wuhan Charity Show, was also a form of “Echo”, to share this play with even more audiences.

“A Dream Like A Dream”, Wuhan Charity Show inside view

2 years ago, in Chongqing Theatre, Wang Keran came up with the idea to get more people to understand theater, experience theater. He started conceptualizing the 9th Anniversary 9 Cities Tour for “A Dream Like A Dream”.

When they heard of this plan, Chen Limei and Zhang Rui thought it was an impossible wish.

“Because ‘A Dream Like A Dream’ was such a large play, we would actually lose money by doing a tour. Such a big group, there’s about 130 people in the group, so many people’s living expenditures, including putting up the set for each location, it takes a week to put it up, only for a few shows.

Until the start of last year, Keran told us that we would still do it, I said we really had to do it? How could we do this in the pandemic? Last year he said that we could definitely do it the next year. This might had to do with his view of life, he would do what he set out to do, just like then when he did his first play, he sold 4 houses.”

In comparison with previous “A Dream Like A Dream”, the investment of this tour was obviously bigger. More touring cities meant that there was more costs with transfer of set, when they rehearsed in Tangshan it was not as good as Beijing, all the actors had to be in Tangshan with their living expenditures.

On the other hand, the seats in the theaters were fixed, there’s a ceiling to the ticket prices, in the face that it was not profitable, Wang Keran included a not-for-sale charity show, “The cost is too high, after completing the charity show, we basically have no profits for this stop,” Wang Keran said.

“A Dream Like A Dream”, Xu Qing and Xiao Zhan during rehearsal

Early last year during the pandemic period, Wang Keran already thought of doing a charity show in Wuhan.

Then, he spoke on the phone with the person in-charge of the theater, and asked about the situation in Wuhan, “He had always stuck to Wuhan, and told me that if you really cared about us, then you should bring your best show over, I asked which one did you mean? He said ‘A Dream Like A Dream’. I just felt that if ‘A Dream Like A Dream’ did not come, it would not fully express our special respect for Wuhan, and we would do a charity show, free.”

The actors had the same idealism.

Wang Keran said, theater would definitely be tough, the rehearsal time was long, and while they would perform for 3 days in every stop, they had to allocate 1 week for practice, a popular artist’s time would be calculated in days, but they were willing to allocate their schedule for the play.

Sun Zhongyi, who played roles such as the old housekeeper and professor, was one of the core actors for Yanghua Theatre, he was given the rare opportunity for a lead role in a movie, it was very important to him, but the schedule collided with one of the shows for “A Dream Like A Dream”, and for the play, he gave up this rare opportunity.

“A Dream Like A Dream”, actors rehearsing.

Plays do not earn as much as dramas and movies, no matter how popular the celebrity is, the profits from plays will never match up with the value of the drama, an actor’s rehearsal fee for “A Dream Like A Dream” is 100RMB a day, but all of the actors cooperated seriously.

Huang Lu said, sometimes we would joke that we “missed money making opportunities”, but everyone felt that this was especially fine, it was rare that we had a whole year to focus on doing one thing, the period where we practiced in Tangshan was very much like return to school.

“Everyone basically didn’t come here for money,” Huang Lu said, she viewed “A Dream Like A Dream” as a rare opportunity, it was a training for acting, also like a chance for self improvement.

After the “A Dream Like A Dream” Wuhan Charity Show ended, Huang Lu came to the front lobby for a photo.

Every actor gave their best performance.

Newly added actress for Young Gu Xianglan, Ge Xinyi, worked hard to match her senior; seasoned actress Feng Xianzhen controlled her character with grace and power, all 3 Gu Xianglan had an overall soul; Zhang Liang performed a Baron who was different from Jin Shijie’s version, but it was still accurate and layered; Fu Xing as the representative of the original group, became the foundation, their steady and down-to-earth performance assisted every new actor in building up their steady and accurate system of performance.

After performing for 9 years, Xu Qing had already embodied the blood and soul of Gu Xianglan, she also followed the progress of the group, and participated in all of the practices. Wang Keran expressed his thanks to Xu Qing once in Tangshan, “I say I really thank you for appearing in the practice, because your every practice would always accurately complete every detail, even if it was the most basic practice, you always put your heart to it, never held back, completely constructing the character.”

Xu Qing constantly improved her performance, frequently discussing how to handle every word with Wang Keran, for example after Baron had his car accident, Gu Xianglan would run up hurriedly to the police to say “I saw your incompetence” that kind of transition scenes, she would repeatedly try different expressions, after 9 years of “A Dream Like A Dream”, she is still pondering over it repeatedly, searching for the best method to handle every detail.

“A Dream Like A Dream”, Xu Qing and Zhang Liang during rehearsal.

During the rehearsal in Wuhan, Yuli Studio also witnessed how Xu Qing gave all of her emotions in every rehearsal, especially the important scene where Gu Xianglan took off her Cheongsam and walked through the lotus pond in sleeping garments, everytime Xu Qing finished that performance, her eyes would be filled with tears.

Xu Qing told Wang Keran one sentence later, and hoped that he would share that with the new actors, “Just tell them this point, 1 minute onstage, 9 years of effort offstage.”

Theater people always had this persistence in idealism and passion for the stage, with so much interest in “A Dream Like A Dream” this time round, Wang Keran hoped that with this play, more audiences would understand plays and love plays.

He especially prepared a live broadcast after the charity show ended, so that people beyond that 1200 audiences could see “A Dream Like A Dream”, hear the words from the actors’ hearts, he hoped that the other actors besides Xu Qing and Xiao Zhan would also be noticed.

“I know that the rules of news broadcast, if it wasn’t live broadcast, you would definitely cut away the people who weren’t important, right, but I hoped that everybody could see everyone’s effort. Xu Qing, Xiao Zhan, they were also very happy to have this method, I think that this is also a faith in collaboration equality built upon plays for them.”

“A Dream Like A Dream” would continue to tour 9 cities, Wang Keran hoped that through this play, it would encourage more youths to enter theaters, “I had this thought a long time ago, I just needed to find the right opportunity. For all of our lives we had hoped that plays would have more influence, could have more people entering theaters, if this worked out, then actors and actresses such as Xu Qing, Xiao Zhan, Zhang Liang etc, would have great contribution.”

[princessofguineapigs]

skater!tom x reader, smut, fluff

warnings: unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, oral (m receiving), fingering, spitting kink, degradation, bdsm elements, yeah so, read with care

summary: Tom is a skateboarder trying out for the X Games, Y/N is his supportive girlfriend. Mostly, I wrote this for the sex. Tom is both a dom and a simp for his princess.

words: 2.4 k

Tom was reviewing the footage his friend had shot of him skating at the park. For months, he’d been trying to capture his skills on camera so he could submit them to the X Games. He’d worked his butt off to master the laser flip and finally caught it on camera. The trouble was, Tom was now obsessively playing the recording back and nitpicking his own form.

You draped your body over the couch from behind so you could rest your head on your boyfriend’s shoulder and see what he was watching.

“Can you show me how to do that?” you asked.

“Mmmm, if you want.” Tom twisted around to pull you over the side of the couch. You snuggled into him, inhaling the scent of clove and bourbon that made up his cologne. Tom rewound the video again, focusing on the placement of his feet when he pressed play again. You watched with him. “Wow. Babe, you really are good at that.”

Tom sighed and dropped his head into his hands. “It’s not good enough. It’s sloppy. I should be practicing more right now.” He stood and you admired the way he looked. His gray sweatpants hung low on his hips, his t-shirt showed off his muscles, and his snapback was giving you the urge to drop to your knees.

Tom threw on a pair of sneakers and his Thrasher hoodie, then grabbed his board that was propped up in the hallway. “I can show you now, if you want? I really feel like I should spend a few more hours at the skatepark. Then I’ll be able to relax with you.”

“Let’s go,” you said, eager to learn about Tom’s passion.

At the park, Tom popped one earbud in, letting the other hang down and took to the half-pipe. You watched him do a few tricks, which never failed to leave you in awe. His concentration was intense and Tom was completely in the zone. 

When he was finished showing off for you, Tom gave you his board to try. With a bit more confidence than you should have, you got on and pushed off to travel a few yards. And then you promptly fell on your butt. Tom was at your side in an instant. “Are you hurt?” You shook your head. “Only my pride.”

Your boyfriend helped you to your feet and pretended to brush dirt off your butt. It was obvious to you that Tom just wanted to touch your ass. Sweetly, he kissed the knuckles on your left hand as if he weren’t just having sinful thoughts.

Tom steadied you on the skateboard, then stepped lightly onto it with you. He placed one foot in between yours and the other on the outside of your right foot. His shaggy hair is a bit sweaty, and the ends stick to his forehead, but he’s still adorable. To keep your balance, you rested your hands on his chest and his arms snaked around your lower back.

You tilted your head up, eagerly seeking a kiss. Tom was a step ahead of you and his lips were already poised to meet yours. He tasted sugar sweet and the kiss was gentle. You sank into the heat of his embrace before he broke the kiss.

“Now, this time, bend your knees a bit. The lower you are to the ground, the better control you have of your balance,” Tom advised, stepping off the board.

You absorbed the tips Tom gave you and over the course of the next few hours, you reached the respectable skateboarding level of only falling off every other time. By the end of it though, your thighs, knees, and feet were aching. Tom actually carried you back to the car.

Watching Tom do something he was talented at really turned you on. For Tom, getting to share the hobby he was dedicated to and having you be interested in it was super hot.

“You looked really cute on my skateboard,” Tom said when you walked through the door.

You bit your lip coyly and said, “There’s something else of yours I’d like to ride.”

“I think you should take your clothes off, darling,” Tom commented. Once you had stripped, Tom gently guided you to a seat on the couch. Once you were naked, Tom knelt down in front of you. With soft, slightly moist lips, Tom kissed up your ankle to your calf to your thigh.

“What do you want?” he demanded.

You whimpered, totally desperate in your aroused state. “Can I please suck your cock, sir?” It was humiliating to ask to pleasure him, but it only served to make your wetness drip onto the cushions.

“Because you begged so nicely,” Tom said, pulling down his sweats.

You opened your salivating mouth to invite him between your lips. In the next moment, your mouth was full of cock and your tongue tasted saltiness.

“Good little whore,” Tom praised. He plunged in and out of your drooling mouth. “Get me wet so I can stretch my pussy.” Tom’s dick explored the depths of your mouth and ventured slightly into your throat, causing you to gag. The tightening sensation pulled Tom right to the center of pleasure. “That’s enough. I want your cunt,” Tom said, pulling out of your mouth and slapping your face with his cock. “Bedroom.”

You took up your usual position for doggy style, right in the center of the mattress. “Looks like my pussy is already wet,” Tom noted, running a finger through your folds. “Stay right like that.” You found yourself clenching while you waiting for his thick cock to enter you. The air was knocked out of you and you fell to your elbows when Tom pushed inside. His tool was formidable and the bulbous tip stretched you open an inch at a time.

While Tom railed you from behind you were overwhelmed with pleasure. His cock head nudged your spot over and over, sending you to euphoria. “You like that, princess?” Tom asked with his hand lightly on your throat.

You lost yourself in the waves of pleasure and soon it was too late. You came without permission or remorse. Since Tom’s dick was pounding you from behind, you didn’t see the cruel grin that overtook his face. He thought about what wicked punishments he could inflict on your for your bad behavior.

Nipple clamps were an option. So was the clit clamp. That one would be worse now that your clit was engorged and oversensitive. The thought made Tom cum on the spot.

He filled you quickly, then pulled out and flipped you onto your back.

“Do you know what you did wrong?” he asked you.

Did wrong? You thought you had been pleasing to him. He had just orgasmed.

“I’ll tell you. You came without asking. What does that mean for you, Y/N?”

In a small voice you answered, “I need to be punished.”

“That’s right.” Tom opened the top drawer of the nightstand to search for his preferred torture device. He held the clit clamp up for you to see and your eyes widened in fear.

“No! Tom, no! Please,” you begged.

“You can take it. It’s just for a few minutes.” His tone was slightly mocking. You instinctively closed your legs, but Tom pried them apart. It was evident that no amount of begging was going to save you. Sinking into subspace, you humbled yourself and submitted to your deserved punishment. The clamp bit into your sensitive bud and you screamed out.

“I have work to do and I’ll need my full concentration,” Tom said. “So I’ll need you to be quiet.” He attached a ball gag to your head and forced it between your lips. The tears leaking from your eyes mimicked the saliva already dripping down your chin. Tom kissed your forehead softly. “Thanks for the fuck, baby. Be good now.”

The second Tom left the room you wanted to beg him to come back. Unfortunately, your mouth was occupied. The minutes dragged slowly while you endured your punishment.

At long last, Tom returned. He reached to undo the clit clamp and said, “This might hurt a bit, love.” The second he removed it, you squealed into the gag as blood rushed into your clit.

“You took it so well, baby,” Tom said, unbuckling the gag. “Bet you even learned your lesson.”

“Yes, Tommy.”

Tom stroked your face. “I didn’t even have to restrain you. I’m so proud of you, angel.” He kissed your cheek. “Did you have fun at the park today?” he asked as you put your clothes back on.

“Yeah, I like when you teach me things,” you answered.

“Next time, I’ll show you how to ollie,” Tom said.

You walked to the edge of the bed where Tom was seated and circled your arms around his neck and shoulders. Tom pulled you close and placed a tender kiss behind your ear. “I finally figured out what I was doing wrong,” he said. “I played the video back a few more times. I wasn’t popping my ankles up at the right time, so the tricks weren’t as clean.”

“Do you want me to film you for your X Games submission tomorrow? Now that you’ve figured it out?” you asked.

Tom smiled. “You’d do that?”

“Of course. It’ll be good practice for my future film directing career,” you teased.

He placed a kiss on your temple. “You’re the best, babe. I want to spend every day with you. Hell, I’d give up skateboarding if it meant I could do that.”

“Tom, I never want you to give up your passion. You can half both. Besides,” you slide your hands down his chest, “there are more practical ways to ensure you see me every day.”

Tom’s lips curved upward and he moved his hands lower on your waist. “Are you proposing to me, princess?”

You shoved his shoulder lightly. “In your dreams. You’ll have to do the work for once.”

“But I do the work in bed, darling,” Tom quipped.

You straddled his lap. “That you do.”

Tom left adoring kisses on your neck. “How bout a cup of tea, angel?”

You shifted in his lap and giggled. “Do extreme skateboarders make their girlfriends tea?” you quizzed.

“Only when the tea is poured in flowery china.” Tom’s fingers rubbing soothingly on the small of your back made you melt. He leaned in for a passionate kiss and your fingers made their way to his soft hair. You could feel the love pouring out of Tom as he kissed you possessively and held you protectively. His hands snuck under your hoodie and you pulled away. “I think you’ve had enough for today, mister,” you chided.

Tom whined and made a pouty face. “You said I could have tea,” you reminded him. He rubbed his hands up and down your arms. “Of course, darling. Gotta give my pretty girl what she wants.”

Abruptly, Tom stood and the legs that had been straddling him wrapped around his waist. He carried you to the kitchen and set you on the counter with his palms flat on the marble on either side of you. He leaned in for yet another kiss, trapping you between his body and the cabinets. His large hands moved to the tops of your thighs, exposed beneath the hoodie. “How’s your little clitty, princess?” “Better,” you whispered.

Tom left his spot between your legs to put the kettle on. Then, he sauntered back to you and said, “Where were we?” Boldly, he snuck a hand under the hem of your hoodie and fished out your panties, sliding them over your thighs. He pressed the pad of his finger between the folds of your heat and tsked. “Already wet?” he questioned.

“I’m always wet with you, Tommy.”  You blushed madly. “Whenever I look at you or think about you and it’s not even sexual thoughts. I’m just so damn attracted to you, babe. You’re so sweet and kind.”

Tom dipped the finger from your folds into his mouth and sucked briefly to savor your taste. “So you’re not just a slut that’s constantly wet.”

“No, Tommy, only for you.”

This pleased him. “My personal slut then.” He grinned. “So many holes for my exclusive use.” Your pussy trembled at that. Tom tapped your lips with his finger. “Open.” You obeyed and he spat a large glob of saliva onto your vulnerable tongue. “Hold it in your mouth until you cum,” he commanded.

At first you were confused, but then Tom worked two fingers into your core. He expertly dipped them in and out slowly to get you worked up. Steadily, he massaged your g-spot, causing you to moan behind your closed lips. A tingling warmth spread from your cunt out to your lower abdomen and thighs.

Tom’s fingers danced from you pussy hole to your clit. You wanted more, needed more. He gave it to you, rubbing figure eights on your bud with his wet finger. Your toes curled when he got in a rhythm on that spot before returning to your opening. One stroke at a time, Tom coaxed your orgasm from you, opting to keep his thumb on your clit while his other fingers moved in and out. Your walls felt so sensitive and they tightened on his digits.

“So responsive,” Tom praised.

 Tom gave you a cocky smile and you were conscious of his spit still on your tongue. “Make your pretty pussy cum now, I want to feel it on my fingers,” Tom said. He forced his fingers deeper and you erupted on them, soaking him to the knuckles. Simultaneously, you swallowed the gift he’d left in your mouth just as he’d instructed.

“Fuck, baby, you squirted,” Tom said, thoroughly impressed with himself. He helped you off the counter and grabbed a dish cloth to clean up the mess. When he’d finished wiping up, the tea kettle whistled. He went to tend to it as you picked your panties up off the floor and slide them back into place over your satisfied cunt.

When you turned back to your boyfriend, he presented you with a steaming cup of earl grey. The two of you sat down with the warm beverages and you said to him, “You know, I have a good feeling about this tape. I think the judges will be impressed.”

“You think so?” Tom looked at your hopefully. Even doms needed reassurance outside the bedroom.

“Tommy,” you took his hand in yours. “You’re an incredible skater and you work really hard. Anyone who watches your tape will see how talented you are.” You squeezed his hand. “Plus, there’s no way they won’t pick you with my filming skills,” you teased.

Tom kissed you firmly and lovingly. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, skater boy.

[unholyhelbig]

Triple Treble High school AU??

Read on AO3 | Request prompts here

The darkroom wasn’t originally in the blueprints for the high school. It was a small space that was wedged between the back stairwell, something that still smelled so thickly of drain cleaner, and sawdust, that the developer only added a twinge of vinegar to the mix.

Beca had pestered and persisted until the school board agreed to convert the unused storage area into a place for the yearbook committee to soak and hang their film. It could fit about four people at a time and left her blinking away the red light when the bell rang, load and enough to vibrate the whole room.

She leaned against the table that woodshop had constructed, mindful of the surface that could splinter at any moment. She was putting the finishing touches on her book report for Mr. White’s third-period English. She was cutting it close, but the photos from the pep rally the day before still had a good three minutes left of the egg timer.

She twisted the dial and listened to the satisfying click that accompanied it.

Beca had learned a long time ago that it was better to be unseen than seen by the whole world. There were no standards that way, if this batch of photos didn't turn out, or darken fully, that would be okay- because it wasn’t like they had noticed her, other than the small flashes of light, or the click of her Nikon.

She scribbled the finishing touches on her interesting take of “To Kill a Mockingbird” and shoved the crinkled lined paper into her backpack. She hadn’t put much thought into it- having read the novel more than once and never finding it as moving as it was intended to be.

The timer sounded off and her heart caught in her throat. It always did, even though she was the one that set it. She knew it was going to hiss eventually, and her hands moved before her mind could catch up. She peered over the edge of the basin at the photo that developed fully.

Chloe Beale beamed charismatically, her arm around Kaylee Eli, brow glistening with sweat. The logo of the cowboy shining under the lights. Beca was a damn good shot, but Chloe was an even better model. She stared right into the lens like she actually saw Beca- she noticed and posed and smiled with the same type of vigor as always.

The second warning bell sounded off and Beca fished the photo from the solution with her tongs. She shook it once, then twice, before clipping it on the line. She shouldered her bag and then emerged into the hallway, breathing in to clear out the sharp acidic scent from her lungs.

She nearly collided with a warm body, also trying their hardest to get through the hallways and into homeroom in time for the third and final bell to sound. Her sneakers squeaked against the floor, and her shoulder did make contact with something soft, and hot, and she stumbled with an apology before even realizing who it was.

Posters, and buttons scattered across the floor with a deafening clatter, and a pile of books were soon to follow. They were obnoxiously red, white, and blue. And Beca was on her knees, very suddenly, scrambling to pile them into a stack that they had once been.

“I’m so sorry,” She said, her own backpack forgotten.

“Were you in a supply closet?”

Beca glanced up, meeting hard and ripe green. The girl in front of her was a mass of blonde hair and lip gloss. She shoved her bangs back and gave Beca an inquisitive look. The posters were stacked now, and the two raised to a standing position.

“No, I mean, yes.” Beca frowned “It’s not a supply closet anymore, though. It’s a dark room. For photography.”

The girl studied her. She looked vaguely familiar. Those posters did too- Aubrey Posen for Student President. She realized she was still gripping them, reading them. She flushed and handed them over.

“I’m afraid I’ve made you miss the final bell.” She said.

“Don’t worry about it. Have a fantastic day.” Beca replied, even if she didn’t’ mean it. She grabbed her bag from the floor and maneuvered her way around the girl and walked off towards her first class- one that she wouldn't be paying much attention to.

Aubrey glared down at her posters. The word Fantastic was outlined in blue and slanted in a way that screamed desperately. She swallowed back the suddenly queasy feeling in her stomach and pulled her shoulders back. It didn’t’ matter if the candy-cane stripes and the blue lettering were tacky. It would win her the vote.

She felt disheveled, the pink late slip in her pocket burned like dry ice. She hated breaking the rules, and even this, even having the permission to skip the first half of the morning to work on her campaign, made her feel like some kind of common criminal.

Aubrey walked all the way to the gym.

She was meant to set up the ballot tables for the three lunch periods. She hadn’t thought that many people would skip out on the greasy scent of fried chicken and the brothy greens that were slopped next to them to vote for student council. Not many people cared about the election, and sometimes Aubrey questioned her own dedication to the cause of no cause at all.

The gym always smelled thickly of sweat and floor wax. It’s bright lights seemed to be the only thing in the school that ran on an automatic timer. The last moments of morning cheer practice had just concluded, and Aubrey waited dutifully by the double doors for the girls to clear out.

Most of them- she knew cordially. She was nod at them and say hello, and even give them a button to strap to their bags. So they smiled kindly as they exited past her, and wished her luck on today's vote. She figured she needed it.

“Are you nervous?”

“Huh?” Aubrey had started to study the sound system in the corner, but her focus was suddenly on the one remaining cheerleader in the gym. Her voice echoed, and her smile radiated. “Oh, uh, no my opposing candidate is a gerbil so.”

“he’s got a solid campaign.” She replied, walking across the seal in the center of the floor. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re going to do great. You’ve got my vote.”

Aubrey hadn’t been this close to Chloe Beale. Not in school- they usually avoided one another after Bumper’s Halloween party, two semesters ago. She didn’t remember, much- the fowl taste of beer, the flashing lights, a kid in a skeleton mask, and Chloe Beale’s lips on hers. Cherry, and tart with alcohol.

Her cheeks reddened at the thought, all-encompassing. “Right, I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to tell me that.”

“Oh?”

Chloe took a few steps backward before turning completely and walking towards the double doors. Aubrey struggled to avert her eyes, knew that she had to, but couldn’t find a way to do it. Chloe could feel them on her- swinging her hips intentionally.

She found herself letting out a trembled breath once she exited into the hallway. Her arms were burning, and so were her cheeks. Aubrey M. Posen had always been intimidating; in her fancy blazers and thick reading glasses. Her lips tingled, and she pressed two fingers against them to quell the sensation. The girl probably didn't even remember her on Halloween night, that stupid skeleton kid, drenched in fake blood, and the flashing lights that spurred her drunken stupor.

Chloe pressed her back against the painted brick wall and let the coolness drip through her sweaty t-shirt. She hadn’t slept well the night before, and practice before the day had even begun made her bones ache and her stomach turn.

She was going to be late for class, she knew that before they had even finished listening to coach Morris reminding them (for the third time that morning) about the pep rally on Friday. She peeled herself from the wall, blinking away the light from the trophy cases, before slinking into the locker room. It was empty now, the remaining scent of body spray and lotion clouding her lungs.

Chloe quickly changed and pulled her bag over her shoulder. She didn’t’ have a pink slip, not as she should, but figured that Mrs. Gordon would excuse her this once. She would slide into first-period Chemistry and try her best not to disturb the room more than she had to.

“Miss Beale,” She felt her heart seize, Mrs. Gordon’s eyes on her, lifting from the workbook that she was struggling to flip through. The rest of the room had taken to staring at her too, roaming eyes and giddy for a distraction, no matter how small. “Take the nearest seat.”

It would certainly be easier than working her way around the room, through the bags and the lab stools. She glanced sparingly at the empty seat closest to her. Beca Mitchell lifted both of her eyebrows and shifted the camera bag to the floor, allowing her to take a seat.

“Flip to page seventeen, The building of Electron’s and Neutrons”

Chloe reached for her bag, but before she could Beca shifted the textbook towards the middle of them, letting her scan her eyes over the annotated version of the paragraphs. She had never expected Beca Mitchell, resident outcast and photographer, to go through the nightly reading and actually absorb it.

She smelled thickly of cloves and chemicals. It was earthy but comforting. It almost relaxed Chloe from the morning, brought her down to a familiar buzz after sharing a conversation with Aubrey in the gym. She blinked through her lack of focus and tried to concentrate on something other than how close the alt girl was, and how their knees almost met under the lab table.

Beca reached up and turned the page, Chloe realized she hadn’t read a single line.

[softholand]

gingerbread kisses - t.h

pairing: tom holland x youtuber!reader

warnings: a lot of dialogue and some good old festive fluff

words: 2.5k

a/n: this is like a part two of my youtuber!reader series, it can also be read on it’s one but if you haven’t read chocolate kisses yet, you can do it here i really hope you guys enjoy it and please let me know what you think!! ✨

It was another normal workday at your flat, you had all your lights and camera set in your living room, ready to start filming. Today’s video was going to be a Q&A with a special guest, Tom Holland.

It was expected that your baking video with him was going to be one of the most successful ones, but you weren’t expecting the number of views that, to this day, a whole month later, kept coming.

With so many comments almost begging you to bring him to your channel again, you finally gave in and asked him to do a Q&A with you, but since it was the end of the year and Christmas was just around the corner, you decided that, while you answered your viewer's questions, you two could build gingerbread houses.

“Tom, where are you? I’m about to start this without you!” You shouted from the living room floor, where you were seated. “I’m coming, I just had to get something before,” Tom answered, appearing in front of you, wearing a ridiculously ugly Christmas jumper, making you burst out laughing.

“Oh my God! Where did you get that?” You asked, trying to recover from your fit of laughing. “Oh, don’t worry, darling! There’s one for you too!” He stated, taking an identical jumper from behind him.

“You’re not letting me get out of this, are you?” You questioned, sighing when you saw him shake his head. Once you took your (his) hoodie out, replacing it with the ugly sweater, you were finally ready to start recording.

“Hi guys, welcome back to another video! This week we have a special guest that you guys have been asking since our last video together.” You said, giving Tom time to sit next to you. “It’s Tom!”

“It’s me!” He exclaimed, smiling at the camera. “This time we’re not baking anything but, since Christmas is almost here, I thought it was a good idea for us to build some gingerbread houses!” You said, pointing to the kits you had bought on your last trip to the grocery store.

“It’s been so long since I’ve done this!” Tom smiled, clearly excited to start. “But, instead of just sitting here, I asked you guys on Instagram to send some questions so we could answer while doing our houses. What do you think?” You questioned, looking at him.

“Dangerous… but fun!” He said, making you laugh. “So, we have the Christmas tree with the lights on, it’s starting to snow outside, I’ve made us some hot chocolate and of course, we cannot forget our ugly sweaters, courtesy of Tom.” You grinned.

“You’re welcome!” He praised, making you roll your eyes. “I’d said we’re ready to start.” You announced, to which he gave you two thumbs-ups.

Once you had taken the house out of its package, you laid all the biscuit parts in front of you, Tom doing the same beside you.

“So, the first question is “What’s your best/worst memory together?” You let them know while putting the baking glue on your biscuit. “Do you wanna start?” Tom offered, to which you shrugged. “It’s okay, you can go first.” You said, seeing that he already had the answer at the tip of his tongue.

“Best memory is your twentieth birthday party.” He stated, without taking his eyes out of his project. “Why?” You asked, also concentrating on building the house.

“C’mon, y/n! You know why!” Tom finally looked up, making kissy lips to you. “Tom! It’s supposed to be a surprise for the end of the video!” You whined, earning a chuckle from him. “Okay, fine! I’ll behave!” He said, making you laugh this time.

“I think my favorite memory of us is at the Far From Home premiere party! We had so much fun!” Tom declared, making you smile. “Yeah, that was nice!” You agreed, thinking about your favorite memory with Tom. “Mine is probably when we went to New York, I loved that trip!” You confessed, remembering all the crazy things you and Tom did back then.

“Yeah, that was a good one!” Tom agreed, smiling at you. “Worst one has to be the time paparazzi locked us outside of that restaurant. It was awful, I honestly thought I was gonna die that day.” You remembered, feeling chills cover your body. “Yeah, same!” The boy next to you answered, clearly feeling down just thinking about that event, so you made sure to quickly change the subject and ask the next question.

“So, the next question is, what was your best trip?” You asked, motioning for Tom to go first. “Mine has to be Bali, I loved that place and I’m dying to go back.” He stated. “Tell me about it, I was so jealous when you guys went there!” You whined, remembering the photos he kept texting you. “What about you, y/n?”

“Oh, 100% Christmas in New York!” You told him, without even having to think. “It was magical!” You smiled, remembering the trip like it was yesterday.

“Nice! I never spent Christmas in New York!” Tom commented, before going for the next question. “What’s the other Starbucks order?” He asked, taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

“Yours is tea!” You said, rolling your eyes. “Hey, I drink coffee too!” Tom uttered. “Rarely! Most of the time is Chai Latte or a Royal English Breakfast Tea.” You stated and of course, Tom had to agree.

“Yeah, you’re right! I should try more of their stuff. But you also always get the same, White Chocolate Mocha or Peppermint Hot Cocoa at this time of the year.” Tom listed, making you smile knowing that he knew your drink orders.

“But it’s just soooo good! I can’t help it!” Tom chuckled, before passing your phone back to you for the next question. “That’s a good one, who’s the messier one?” You questioned. “I don’t even think I have to answer this, you guys realized that from our last video together!” You declared, making you both laugh.

“Ok, I’ll give you this one. I’m pretty messy! But I’m trying to get better at it, I promise!” Tom added, to which you chuckled. “My house is built, now I just have to decorate!” You announced, making Tom gasp by your side. “What?! There’s no way! I’m still trying to make these walls stick together.” He whined, making you chuckle.

“That’s because you’re not using enough glue, look, you have to put a straight line across the whole biscuit, otherwise it won’t stick.” You told him, showing exactly how to do it. “But the glue it’s showing on the other side.” He reasoned. “It doesn’t matter, Tom! We’ll just make it look like snow. See?” You pointed to your own house and he nodded, going back to work, focused on finishing it so he could start decorating.

“Next question, what’s the most useless talent you have?” Tom asked, already laughing. “Mine is really stupid but I can put my feet on top of my head,” Tom stated, demonstrating exactly what he was saying, almost knocking everything that was on the table in front of you off.

“That’s not a talent, you’re just flexible.” You rolled your eyes, to which he laughed. “You’re only saying this because you’re jealous you can’t do it.” He smirked, clearly trying to get on your nerves. “Shut up, I have a much better one, I can lick my elbow.” You said, also showing your completely useless talent. “That’s… weirdly impressive.” Tom expressed making you both laugh.

When Tom was finally done building his house, he joined you and started to decorate. You told him and your viewers that you were going for more of a white Christmas theme, while Tom expressed his desire to make the house as colorful as possible.

“Tom, I think the next question is for you.” You gave him a look, before continuing. “What is the dumbest way you’ve been injured?” He gasped, putting one of his hands over his chest while you laughed. “Why are you coming for me today?” The brown-haired boy asked, pretending to be offended.

“I’m sorry, but how many times have you broken your nose while filming?” You asked once you had stopped laughing. “Three, actually, two and a half, the last one wasn’t a complete fracture.” He explained, trying to not make a fool out of himself.

“Well, I’ve never injured myself badly, just some paper cuts, which for me it’s very dumb.” You mentioned. “See? Your answer is dumber than mine and still, I get the title.” Tom shook his head, making you laugh. “So, taking a break from the questions, what are you doing with your house?” You questioned, taking a moment to observe his work.

“I’m gluing some gummies on the roof.” He exclaimed, putting the icing on the sugar-coated candy before sticking it on the house. “And you?” Tom asked, stopping his movements to look at yours.

“I’m putting shredded coconut on the roof and a little bit on the floor, to make it look more like snow.” You smiled, happy with what you had done so far. “Uhh, bougie!” Tom uttered, sticking his tongue out.

“Shut up! Okay, question number… I don’t even know what number we are, so… weird habits of each other? Oh my God, Tom makes SO much noise to eat, it’s ridiculous!” You blurted, to which he immediately complained. “I do not!” He exclaimed. “Yes, you do!”

“You never said that to me!” You laughed at Tom defending himself. “I have told you, at least, a hundred times!” You stated. “Well, at least I have control of my own body, you can’t stop bouncing your leg for literally two seconds.” He exclaimed.

“That’s because I have anxiety and you know that! I’m always moving a part of my body!” You practically yelled. “Still annoying!” Tom said. “Well, I can’t help it!” You interjected. “Neither do I!” He replied. “Next question?” You asked. “Please!” He shot back, making you both burst out laughing.

Once you stopped, Tom took your phone and asked the next question. “Do you have nicknames for each other?” He smirked, making you panic. “Hey, you said you’d behave!” You warned, pointing a finger at him. “I will, promise!” He told you, but that didn’t stop you from being nervous about his answer.

“I sometimes call her cherry, because she can do that trick with the cherry stem, it’s unbelievable!” He smirked, making you blush. “That’s actually pretty easy to do!” You said, trying to make light of the situation. “Oh yeah, it’s totally easy to tie a knot with a cherry stem with your tongue. Super chill!” Tom added, without taking that stupid smirk out of his face.

“Stop it! I don’t think I have a nickname for you, I call you spider-boy sometimes but just to spite you.” You smiled, sticking your tongue out. If Tom wanted to play, you could join his little game.

“I wish I could tell them all the other names you call me in bed,” Tom whispered, making you almost choke on your hot chocolate. “Thomas!!!” You screamed, trying desperately to clean the mess you’ve made. “Fine…” He replied, taking a sip of his drink.

“Ok, since we are almost done with the houses, the second to last question is: If you could, what would you change about your first kiss?” You asked, immediately regretting choosing the question. “Oh, that’s cool! Let me see… no, I don’t think I’ll change anything about it, maybe the place. It was a little too crowded.” He replied, not even trying to hide his smirk.

“Really? That’s all you’d change?” You asked, giving him the chance to take back his answer. “Yep, that’s all! What about you, y/n?” You shook your head, feigning disappointment that he didn’t choose to make you his first kiss. “I’d change the person, you idiot!” You answered, throwing one of the icing packages at him.

“Hey, that hurt!” Tom protested, throwing it back at you. “Stop it! We have to finish these so we can end the video.” You warned, pointing an accusing finger at him. “Oh, I’m done!” He announced, showing off his finished gingerbread house with a very colorful roof, windows, and door. “Already? I still wanna do a garland on the door. I even bought special sprinkles for it.” You stated, rushing yourself. “Of course you did!” Tom mocked, to which you simply flipped him off.

Once you had also finished your house, you and Tom did a quick cleaning of the table, before going back to filming. “We’re back!” You said, to which Tom added. “And we’re finished!”

“I’m really happy, they turned out so pretty!” You beamed, looking at your finished works. “They did!” Tom agreed, smiling widely. “So… before we end this video, we do have a last question, one that was the most asked and that is: are you guys together?” You said, finally acknowledging the elephant in the room.

You and Tom shared some guilty looks before blurting it out together. “Yes!” Tom’s smile was so wide that it made you smile too. “Yes, guys! You were all right! Tom and I are in a relationship now and we are so happy to finally share this with all of you!” You grinned, looking at your boyfriend, that of course was looking back at you.

“Yeah, I feel like the luckiest guy in the world and I honestly couldn’t be happier,” Tom murmured, making you blush. “Stop it!” You smiled, now completely lost in his eyes. “I think you have to finish the video now, darling!” He joked, bringing you back to earth.

“Oh, yeah, right! So… that was everything for today’s video, I hope you guys enjoyed it! Don’t forget to give the video a thumbs up and subscribe to my channel! Please, let me know what you guys thought in the comments section down below and… I think that’s it. Do you wanna say something?” You asked, shifting your eyes to Tom. “Thank you for having me again and I hope to come back soon for another one!” He said, giving the camera an adorable little wave. “Bye guys! See you next week!” You cheered, getting up to stop the recording. “We did it!”

“Yay! Can I eat now?” Tom quipped, before smashing his house in half. “Thomas!!!!” You shouted, not believing what he had done. “What?! We’re not supposed to eat it?” He wondered, putting one of the cookie pieces in his mouth. “I mean, yeah, but not… like that!” You tried to reasoned, to which he scoffed.

“C’mon, you didn’t think I wasn’t going to make a mess, right?” He smirked, signing for you to come closer. And you did, sliding right in front of him, straddling his waist.

“You’re an idiot!” You teased, clasping your arms behind his head. “Hmm, c’mere!” Tom lifted your chin and there was nothing more to do other than kiss his lips, so you did, only this time, instead of chocolate, they tasted like gingerbread.

tagging some of my mutuals ✨ @stuckonspidey @definitely-not-black-cat @missnxthingg @bi-writes @uglypastels @screamholland @peeterparkr @wazzupmrstark @tomhollandthing @lauras-collection @tommybaholland @mrs-hollandstan @duskholland @allyz @hazinhoodies @hollandcreep @worldoftom @whatevsholland @geminiparkers

[the-silentium]

Murphy day

Masterlist - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Pairing: Bad Batch x Reader

Words: 3726 words

Warnings: Nothing really.

A/N: This is pure madness! @shadow-hyder this is your fault! Also, this will be a 3 part story so stay tuned for what'll happen next!

Fors is an Original planet. I do not give permission to people to use it for their own fics, the planet, the animals, the Nightmares, the lore or anything related to Fors. Thank you.

Right now, you didn’t know why you ever thought that getting out today was a bad idea. Sure, it was kinda against the rules and there was a long list of reasons as to why it was against the rules, but seeing the two armored clones dangling upside down meters above the ground, their limbs entangled in the thick lianas, their whines reaching your ears, you quickly forgot all the consequences that were waiting for you if you got caught. This was worth any forced work and fine thrown at you.

You stood there, a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from exploding into a fit of laughter, hidden on a large tree branch above the two soldiers. You listened to them insulting the foliage and thrashing around like it would change something. Clearly, they’ve never come to your planet before, or else they would know that the more they moved the lianas would squeeze them tighter into their grips. 

Despite your amusement at their expense, you kept an eye out for any predator lurking around. It would definitely darken your day if they were to be attacked. But then again, Murphy day spared no one. Your hand wrapped around your hunting knife, its carved wooden handle reassuring you that you weren’t defenseless and that luck was on your side. 

You ducked under an enormous leaf when you registered a movement in the corner of your eye, but not before making sure that it wasn’t a loth wolf or something more unfriendly. It definitely wasn’t a loth wolf, but you weren’t sure if they were friendly. One of the two new clones was way too big for your liking and the custom paint of his helmet didn’t put you in confidence, as opposed to the one with the glasses.

“Sorry for the wait Sarge!” A booming voice almost made you jump and lose your balance on the branch. “We got lost for a bit there!” 

“At least you made it. Now get us out of here. Being upside down is giving me a headache and I can't concentrate.” The trooper with the half black, half white helmet answered, wriggling around to try and see the newcomers. “Those things can’t be cut.” 

You smiled to yourself, the voice of your dad echoing in your mind. A sharp knife will not always help you. But a sharp mind will. And so, you chuckled silently to yourself, before sitting on the branch, your back to the trunk and head tilting to the side so you could keep sight on the bunch of soldiers. 

One of them walked forward while typing on something on his wrist rapidly, the bigger one following suit. 

“Tech, how do we get them down?” 

“Genlisea filiformis is a carnivorous plant-”

“A what?!” The second one that dropped the sniper rifle earlier yelled. You rolled your eyes at his panic. 

“A carnivorous plant, Crosshair. Now stop moving. The lianas will continue tightening every time you move.” His head moved slightly from side to side, seemingly reading. “Oh, this is interesting. They eat their prey by dissolving the flesh with an acid oozing from the lianas. Now, you guys should be okay with your composite armor. Don’t worry.” 

You snorted, a bit too loudly. Your hands flew to your mouth, whilst the rest of your body froze in fear that someone heard. Against all odds, you were still off the radar, your sound escaping them completely under Sarge's grunts of pain and the insults of the slim guy who you assumed was Crosshair. 

“All we have to do is to find the head of the plant. The weak point of the lianas is at the base of the head, where the lianas start.” 

As he finished his sentence, you pushed the leaf covering you aside so you could be at the front row of their realization. This was going to be gold.

“Hear that Sarge? We just need t-” His voice stopped as soon as he tried to take a step forward, his feet stuck under 15 cm of the stickiest artificial resin found on this planet. 

Just to make it better, his companion spotted the head of the plant and with all his determination behind his step, he tried to lift his foot, only to lose balance when it didn't move an inch and fell on his hands in the resin. 

That's when your laughter erupted, loud enough to cover the whines of the smallest soldier, bouncing between the trees and stopping each Bad Batcher's heart in surprise. Tears quickly gathered in your eyes, almost making you fall off your safe spot when you lifted your hand to wipe away the droplets. 

"You! Get down here!" Sarge barked, causing you to chuckle as your laughter died down. 

"Are your panties in a twist, Sarge? Did one of the lianas get in there?" You sassed, putting your knife back in the side pocket of your boot and carefully jumping down your branch to another one below. 

You made your way towards them, moving from tree to tree, avoiding any liana that was courageous enough to grow that far away from its roots and stopped just where the branches ended and the mess of lianas started. 

"Hey there!" You smirked, waving innocently at the upside down trooper two meters away from you. 

"Get us down." Growled Crosshair. 

"Oh sure. I love helping people who are as abrasive as sandpaper." You tilted your head to the side, putting on your best innocent expression. 

Once again, he trashed around, surely trying to get a hand free so he could grab… something? You were too far off his reach so he couldn't possibly want to grab you. Maybe a blaster? Unfortunately for him, you saw them fall on the ground earlier. 

"Listen. I-" His grunt of pain made you frown in concern. Your father always told you that you were way too empathetic for this big bad world. "We need help. Please." He sounded out of breath and it was more than you needed to get working. 

With a nod, you walked the length of your perch, jumped in another tree, climbed down to the jungle floor and avoided every puddle of resin the kids of the village had dropped around to prank passers by. 

"She's good." The booming voice surprised you again. 

"She's native and knows what she's doing." You said, putting on your gloves and reaching for your knife. "Ready?"

The two suspended clones grunted in approval. 

You made sure they wouldn't fall head first in the resin and with a few quick motions, you slashed the head off the rest of its body, sticky pale green juices oozed from the cuts and created a small film of smoke where it touched the blade. 

Two yelps reached your ears, but you couldn't care much, instead you jumped to the nearest patch of grass where you removed most of the acid from the smoking blade. 

"Are you alright?" At the question, you turned to assess if one of them broke their neck in the fall. For once, luck seemed to be on their side as they were both seating on their ass, helmets off massaging their heads where you were sure they could feel their heartbeat. 

"'m fine Tech." Sarge answered. He looked worse than his sniper friend, who glared at you when he felt your eyes on him. 

"You trapped us." He accused, getting on his feet to make his way towards you. 

 "What? No!" Jumping backward to avoid his hand, you tumbled to the ground but quickly rolled over to get back on your two feet. "Don't touch me!" You yelled, still avoiding his attempts at grabbing you. You didn't want to threaten him with a knife because you were sure to lose and he would touch you, but your mind did think about it. 

"Crosshair." Sarge barked, calling back his sandpaper soldier. 

If possible, the grey haired clone's glare intensified, burning a hole into your head, freezing you in place. Damn was he scary. You almost regretted cutting the lianas. 

"Won't hurt you." He muttered, still glaring. 

"Says you." You circled around him so you could go back to the rest of the clones, more importantly closer to Sarge who seemed more reasonable. You positionned yourself behind him, you know, just to be sure. 

"Can you get them out too?" Sarge asked you over his shoulder, giving you a perfect view of his tattoo. You were impressed. Never did you think that a facial tattoo could look so good on someone. Seemed like you were wrong. So so very wrong. 

You nodded. "On one condition." 

Frowning, he turned around to face you completely. 

"What?" 

I wanna touch your tattoo.

"No one touches me." His eyebrow shot up in an inquisitive manner and oh damn you wanted to touch the dark ink. 

"We won't hurt you." He reiterated Crosshair's words. You shook your head. 

"Not like that. I don't want your bad luck on me. Because clearly, you guys" You gestured around them with your both hands. "emanate bad luck." Your hands fall to your side. "The baddest bad luck I've seen in my life." 

"We don't have bad luck! We are lucky! We have a 100% success rate!" Bigger guy in the resin barked before laughing. 

"100% success rate eh? That's bad luck." You took a step back for your sake. Too much success always bite you in the arse one day. Looked like their elastic broke today. Lucky them. 

"You know that superstitions are not true, right? It's irrational." Smaller dude who removed his gloves to stand told you. Tech, if you heard right.

Wait. What? 

"Do you guys know what planet you're on?" You were baffled by the lack of knowledge they had on your planet. For sure, you would have thought that they would get as much information on a planet before getting there and running around? 

"Fors. A jungle planet of the Outer Rim. Rich in resources but not exploited because of the thick and dangerous flora." 

You nodded. "So you should know that here, what you all call superstitions are the real deal, right?" Your eyes found Sarge's brown one and you sigh at the lack of recognition. "Ok. If I were you, I'd get away from Fors real' quickly. You're all wearing black which represents death and your perfect success rate very probably attracted the curse of evil eye on y'all. Plus, we are today." 

You walked to a nearby tree, crouched to search the ground around its roots for a particular cavity. 

"What's wrong with today?" Sarge finally got on his feet, fetching his fallen blaster in a bush. 

"Today's Murphy day. The 13th day of the month. Usually there's a good balance between luck and bad luck. But today, it's only bad luck. Laws forbid anyone on the planet to get out of their home for the whole day to prevent accidents and other stuff." 

After your third tree, you found the hole you were looking for. Without a thought, you stuck your hand in the hole, searching around for the container the kids always leave near the traps. 

"So you're breaking the law." Crosshair pointed out, to your exasperation. 

"Exactly. But I don't intend to get caught so I should be fine." You huffed. "Thank you."

"You don't seem affected by bad luck." Tech quirked. 

"Knock on wood!" You said while knocking the trunk of the tree you were searching. 

Your hand found the bottle and pulled it out with a victory cry, the dark blue liquid shining in the sun like the night sky illuminated by its stars. You grinned, shaking the bottle. 

"Now, do we have a deal? Keep your hands to yourselves and I free the two remaining dudes from the kids' trap." 

With his hands slightly in the hair, Sarge nodded. "We won't touch you. Go ahead."

"Okay! Let's do this." Taking a deep breath, you opened the lid and dropped half the bottle at the big one's feet, the other half on Tech’s. 

The resin started dissolving on itself at the liquid's contact, freeing the troopers in under a minute. You backed off so they had room to join the rest of their squad. At a good distance, you allowed yourself to breathe again. 

"Thanks miss! I'm Wrecker." The biggest guy lifted his helmet a bit so he could wear it as a hat, a smile almost splitting his face in half. You immediately noted the scar on the side of his face as well as the cybernetic eye, but something inside your mind told you he wasn't as bad as you initially thought. He seemed too childish to be bad. 

"Nice to meet you Wrecker. The name's Y/N." You waved with a smile of your own. 

"I'm Tech." He removed his helmet, a smile of his own curving his lips. The name definitely suited him to a T. You waved back.

 "Sarge and Crosshair, right?" You asked, pointing to the remaining ones. 

"Sergent Hunter." He corrected as the other merely grunted in response. "Thank you for helping us." It wasn't a complete smile, but the corners of his lips perked up so you'll take it. 

"You're all very much welcome. I hope you all get back safely to your ship!" You put back your knife in its pocket and turned around to climb back into the tree next to you. You jumped to the closest thick branch, used your strong arms to pull you up on it and stand without much of a problem. You climbed a bit more until you found a branch big enough to walk its length. 

"Have a nice Murphy day and good lu-" The words died in your throat, instead morphing into a surprised yelp when your foot didn’t quite go where you wanted it to and caught in a tiny branch that totally refused to break, interfering with your balance. Your hands flew to your face to protect yourself from the smaller branches and leaves scratching at your skin, a quick peek informed you that the ground was coming way too quickly for your liking, your eyes closed in anticipation of the inevitable face plant impact. 

The pain wasn’t quite as you imagined, instead of hurting your front, hands, face and very possibly your spine, strong arms caught you in the air, the abrupt stop causing you to hit your chin onto a hard piece of armor, clattering your teeth together in the process. Thank the Maker, you didn’t bite your tongue off.

Confused, hurt and out of breath, you tried to comprehend what happened by looking around at the best of your capacity, being trapped between two arms as large as trunks. Concerned mismatched eyes met yours, seconds before the ground finally touched your feet delicately. Your eyes went wide as soon as your brain finally registered what happened and who cushioned your fall, panic making you push the large chest away from you so suddenly that you fell on your behind in a patch of tall grass. Wrecker tried to catch you in your fall again, missing your arm from an inch. 

“You okay?” He retracted his arms and stood tall again, Tech and Hunter approaching behind him, concern written all over their faces. 

“Yeah”. You sighed, letting your head roll backwards. Shooking your head, you watched the treetops, all the leaves and mazes of branches, the rare brave birds still watching you from above. Maybe they had the answer as to how you could survive this day. “Thanks for catching me Wrecker.” One of your hands massaged your aching chin.

“No problem Y/N!” His smile came back as soon as he was certain that you were fine, although it was short lived because you soon let yourself fall onto your back in defeat.

“This day starts so badly.” You muttered. You remember leaving your home at 6, early enough that a very few people were awake, but late enough so you could use the first rays of the sun to guide yourself. “I should’ve stayed home.” You snorted. “I’ll probably die from something very stupid.” 

“Well, if you hadn’t come out today, we would still be trapped, so the least we could do is help you  survive the day. How does that sound?” Hunter’s gravelly voice almost made you shiver. 

You shot back up, immediately extending a hand toward the Sergeant from your seated position. “Very fair. Deal.” 

With a nod, he grabbed your hand and pulled you up to your feet. Maybe he was used to pulling up his brothers or he simply miscalculated, but the amount of force behind his pull was unnecessary, propelling you right into his armored chest where you hit your face. 

You yelped in pain, hands reaching for your nose in a hurry. No blood. No broken bone. You sighed in relief.

“Sorry for that.” He seemed so confused it was almost hilarious. You definitely would have laughed if only your nose wasn’t ready to explode.

“It’s fine. ‘s not your fault. It’s today! You lose control of yourself a little and end up creating accidents all around you.” With a last check up that your nose wasn’t bleeding, you took a step aside to create a bit of space between you and the rest of them. “So, where’s your ship?” 

“Latitude 45.400972. Longitude -75.79851.” Tech answered while typing on the screen on his wrist. 

You were deeply confused despite having completed all mandatory classes in your village school. He was speaking a whole different language, you were sure of it. Did clones have a language? They were the first ones you ever encountered, not a lot of people liked to venture out into the Outer Rim where the planets weren’t very significant to anyone. Now that you thought about it, you’d love to see a battle on Murphy day. You were sure it would be catastrophingly funny to watch. Minus the fact that people would really die. Okay. Not so fun after all. 

“About an hour of walk this way.” Tech clarified, his eyes scanning your too deeply thinking face. 

“Okay!” You turned in the direction he pointed and started walking, jumping over the resin puddles. "You made it this far, I'm sure we can all make it back there without dying on the way!" You said, crossing your fingers. 

"Stop talking." Crosshair growled beneath his helmet. 

Duly noted. At the rhythm the day was going, you knew he'd regret his comment at some point. All you had to do was wait. So with the fakest smile you've ever had to use on your face, you turned around quickly and mimed to zip your lips before turning back around to watch your steps. 

Maybe it was a bad idea to follow them. You didn't know them until 10 minutes ago, they were four trained soldiers with blasters and military training, three seemed friendly enough and the last one was as cuddly as a porcupine. On your end, all you had to rely on was your excellent knowledge of the environment, your hunting knife and your precious tap. 

You tapped your pants pocket to ensure that it was still in your possession when quick steps alerted you of a clone keeping you company. 

"Don't listen to him. I'd love to know why luck has that much importance on this planet." Tech joined you at the front, helmet back on his head. "If you don't mind." He added when he met your questioning gaze. 

"People really don't know much about us, do they?"

You didn't blame them though. Who would want to venture on a planet where you didn't have the power over yourself, but something as volatile as luck did? 

"I'm afraid there aren't much more information on Fors other than datas about the minerals that can be found in underground caves."

"I'm not surprised." You scoffed. Your planet was extremely rich in precious minerals that the republic and the separatists would love to have to help found their war expenses, if it wasn't of the dangers passing as defenceless flora, adorable killing creatures and bewitching deadly smells. 

"Okay. Where to start…" You taped your chin, disentangling the different events and remembering your history classes. "You see, Fors is alive, like any other planet, but the difference is that it feeds on beliefs. It eh… apparently it's a field cast a very long time ago that enveloppe the planet and would cause all the luck, bad luck stuff."

Your hand shot up to push back against Tech's chest just as he was about to step in a prank trap,  falling in with him anyway when he tripped on his own feet. With a yelp, your other hand flew out, wrapping tightly around the first thing available, meaning nothing. 

Fortunately for you, Tech fell first into the phosphorescent mixture, saving your front from a disastrous quantity of disgusting liquids to come in contact with your body. You got away with only your pants in the mixture, so all in all, this was a good outcome. Although, with a silent gag, you hurriedly pushed yourself off the completely covered clone, away from the nasty smell and the oily prank. 

"What is in that? And why is there so many traps here!?" Tech yelped indignantly once he was on his feet, removing the most of the pale yellow thing out of his glasses. 

"Believe me, you really don't want to know what's in there. And for your second question, the kids love to trap strangers!" You pulled on a big leaf behind Hunter who dodged out of your way so you could remove a layer of the substance from your pants. 

"What's in that?" Whispered Hunter once he moved to your side, slightly bending to be closer to your ear. Wrecker's roaring laugh drowning his smaller brother's curses. 

"Phosphorescent bird poo mixed with loth wolf puke." You snickered. Poor Tech. It would have been much more hilarious would it have been the glaring tooth prick who fell in the trap. On the bright side, predators should stay away from your little group now. 

"R.I.P." You finally exploded in laughter. 

This was going to be the best yet the worst day of your life!

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Victor’s Return Home Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

The date begins in a conference room, where a meeting has been going on for almost three hours

When LFG invested in an online video platform called SE, LFG held a press release stating that it was a strategic move for the international film and TV market

However, just within two years, SE found itself racking up billions of dollars in debt due to its poor project management

As such, people in the know have been secretly ridiculing Victor for making an error of judgement

Fortunately, LFG’s connections with the media prevented this information from leaking out

But it doesn’t change the fact that LFG messed up this time

Victor hasn’t slept in two days - he’s been poring through documents, project materials, and would sometimes sit in the conference room alone for several hours, forgetting to eat :

When Victor returns to the hotel, there are over a hundred unread notifications on his phone. 

He doesn’t pay attention to such information, but taps on the only pinned message amid the countless lists of prompts.

Unsurprisingly, it’s filled with insignificant idle talk, coupled with several different emoticons.

Victor loosens his tie slightly, reading through the messages from top to bottom. 

“I made an improved version of omurice. Want to try it?”

“What is Goldman talking about in his Moments - something about being angry and tired. Is the meeting not going smoothly?”

“Remember to eat...”

“And remember to sleep!”

Victor’s finger pauses at this line, and there’s a gentle emotion flowing in his eyes.

“The internet celebrity lawyer you mentioned the other time agreed to my invitation for an interview, so I’ll be rushing out the proposal this Saturday. Want to be a supervisor?”

Victor opens the dialog box. Once he sends an “ok”, the other party immediately responds with an emoticon of a winking cat. 

Thinking of the time right now, he arches his brows slightly. 

-

Nestled in my quilt, I’m just about to embark on a long speech regarding the weekend’s schedule, but the phone in my hand suddenly vibrates, surprising me. 

Victor: Did you not sleep, or did you wake up?

MC: Haha...

Victor: What are you laughing at? 

MC: It feels like that is something I often ask you. Why is it now your turn to ask me?

Victor: It’s only 5am now. 

MC: I didn’t get a reply from you, so I couldn’t sleep...

I turn over, changing to a more comfortable position against the corner of the quilt. I press the phone tightly to my ear. 

MC: What project are you busy with this time? Is it going smoothly? 

Victor: Smoothly. It’s still early, you can sleep for a while longer.

MC: ...I can’t really sleep now. Are you still coming back on Thursday as you said last time? 

Victor: Before Saturday. 

MC: It’s only Tuesday today... and the sun hasn’t come out yet. 

I hear Victor laugh, his low tone mixed with some tiredness.

Victor: You find it too late? 

MC: I wouldn’t dare to. If it weren’t something important, you wouldn’t delay returning. However... even if it’s because of work, you did go back on your word, so you have to promise me one thing. 

A deep and slow sigh enters my ear, revealing a faint sense of fatigue.

Victor: You can say it. 

MC: You have to eat, and you have to sleep.

The other end of the phone call grows silent for a few seconds. 

Victor: Mm, I promise you.

The misty morning light is on the curtains. In the midst of my quiet grogginess, I close my eyes, wanting to feel the frequency of his breaths. 

MC: ...it has been raining continuously in Paris these two days. 

Victor: It’s like that during this season. 

MC: Is... is it very cold...

Victor: No, it isn’t. 

My consciousness grows increasingly darker, but I can still clearly capture his voice in my bizarre dream world. 

Victor: [in the gentlest of gentle voices] Sleep if you’re tired. I’m hanging up. 

MC: N-not tired... don’t hang up...

Victor: You can’t even speak clearly, and you’re still unwilling to sleep?

MC: ...

I just need five more seconds to be clear-headed--

I let out a sound of agreement, unsure if I managed to say this aloud.

Very soon, only Victor’s long and steady breaths at my ear remain in my world. It’s very, very close. It’s a closeness that gives one a peace of mind. 

Victor: Are you asleep?

MC: ...

Victor: Sleep then.

Victor: ...

Victor: Sleep peacefully. 

-

On Saturday afternoon, I lift my head towards the wall clock for the nth time. When the needle points to the number ‘3′, I can no longer help myself, and give Victor a call. 

After the dial tone, the notification that the other party is unable to answer the call sounds. Before I can react, the doorbell rings. 

Victor is standing at the door and just about to put his phone back into his pocket. In a daze, I look towards at his empty hands. 

MC: Your luggage...

Victor: Goldman took them back. I still have to return to LFG tonight. 

As he speaks, he enters and changes his shoes in the hallway. After that, he walks straight into my bedroom.

Victor: What have you been doing these two days? 

He walks to the coffee table, picking up the messy outline I was working on for an interview. He takes a glance and then lifts the corners of his lips. 

Victor: You said you were working seriously for several days, but you just did a few outlines? 

MC: Don’t underestimate me! I’ve looked through quite a number of materials. Look!

I point at the stack of trending societal topics and legal-related books on the floor. 

MC: Preparatory work speeds up the actual process. Also, didn’t I recognise my inadequacies and ask you to be a supervisor? 

I hurriedly drag a chair to the coffee table and place a headrest on the back of it. 

MC: Please sit. I guarantee that from this second onwards, I’ll concentrate on the proposal. Before the sun sets, I’ll definitely have the first edition out. 

Victor can’t help but laugh. He hangs his coat on the clothes rack in the corner, then pulls the chair over to himself. After sitting down, he seems to recall something and lets out a faint sigh. 

Victor: Lend me your laptop for a while.

I hand him my notebook computer, and a thought flashes across my mind -- how could he not have brought a laptop out?

MC: Victor, when did you get infected by my scatterbrained habits? 

Victor: Only this time. I forgot to take it with me after leaving it in the backseat.

Victor avoids my teasing gaze. With his expression unchanged, he starts approving documents on the LFG intranet. 

Victor: The sun is setting in two hours. 

MC: Who knows - maybe the sun wouldn’t feel like going home today. 

I return to my seat, resting my chin on my palm while looking towards Victor. 

The light golden sunlight streams in from the window, slowly enveloping Victor. The quiet, warm rays of light are coupled with a calming woody scent, and are very pleasant. 

Victor doesn’t speak. His fingers tap against the desk from time to time. In this quiet room, the sound of our breathing is amplified.

After an inordinate amount of time, he finally lifts his eyes and meets mine.

Victor: Staring at me can help you finish your proposal?

MC: I’m not staring at you. I’m silently conceptualising ideas.

After my words are out, a short “ding” sounds.

MC: Wait for a moment~ 

In a flash, I rush to the kitchen and retrieve the aromatic cookies from the oven. After carefully placing them on a cooling rack, I bring it back to the room along with two cups of warm drinks. 

MC: Afternoon tea time!

Victor casts a glance at the cups and arches his brows slightly. Steam floats from the hot cup of milk, and strands of warmth merge with the sweetness in the house.

MC: Your dark circles are so deep, so don’t drink coffee, all right?  

Victor: I’m fine. 

I thought Victor meant that he wouldn’t drink this, but he holds up the cup after speaking. 

Once I sit down, I push the plate filled with cookies towards him. 

MC: Look at my new mold - isn’t it cute?

I point at the cookies, which are shaped like cats with different expressions on them. 

MC: This one is yawning, this one is full of grievances, this one has already fallen asleep, but I like this one the most. It keeps having an angry face. I called it “Qi Gu Gu”.

[Note: Names don’t translate well into English, so I left it as it is. The original name is 气鼓鼓, which means “seething”]

Victor’s eyes sweep towards my fingers. 

Victor: Looks like you. 

MC: Is that so?

I puff my cheeks, mimicking the cat on the cookie and squinting my eyes to look at Victor. 

As predicted, Victor ignores me. There is a measure of speechlessness in his eyes.

I laugh and bring “Qi Gu Gu” to his lips. 

MC: Give it a try? 

Victor takes a bite straight from my hand, then returns his gaze to the laptop. 

MC: Aren’t you going to evaluate it? 

He purses his lips slightly, and I can’t tell if he’s smiling or not. He leans forward a little, then finishes the remaining half of “Qi Gu Gu” in my hand. 

His warm lips brush against my fingertips, leaving behind a soft, lingering warmth. A fluffy, light, and sweet sense of happiness stirs up slowly in my heart. 

Contented, I sweep the crumbs off my hands and take up my pen again. 

Soon after, MC’s mind starts wandering to how fine the weather is

And how fine her man is 👀

He doesn’t show much emotion while working, and his expression looks as calm as always. But the deep look of concentration between his eyebrows is a little different from usual.

As for what exactly is different...

It’s probably how one just can’t look away.

Victor: It’s only been a few minutes. How many times have you lost focus? 

I hurriedly retract my gaze, pretending to be scribbling on the paper like an “obedient” student who got caught doing something improper by a teacher.

But my ideas have not been completely formulated, and I can’t think of anything to write. The only thing I can do is draw a small heart at the top right-hand corner of the paper. 

Sensing Victor’s lingering gaze on me, I continue scribbling until it becomes a solid heart, then attach a tilde at the end.

After pausing for a moment, I let out a soft sigh and lift my head slightly. 

Victor: Why are you sighing.

MC: ...I can’t help it.

Victor: Can’t help what? 

MC: Can’t help looking at you. 

I cross my arms together, changing to a more comfortable position and plopping onto the table. I tilt my head towards Victor. 

He lets out a barely audible laugh. Just as he’s about to speak, a familiar ringtone sounds from his pocket. 

Watching Victor pick up the call, my messy thoughts instantly vanish, and I feel slightly downcast.

Victor: The time now is...

While speaking, Victor looks at the bottom right corner of the laptop. After a slight pause, he looks at the phone. 

Victor: 4.30pm. Have them give me a reply by 8pm. 

His words are concise. After he hangs up, I ask him a little hesitantly. 

MC: Do you... have to go back to LFG now? 

Victor: I'm not leaving. 

While saying this, he sets his phone on silent mode and places it at the corner of the table. Meeting my hesitant gaze, there’s a sense of resignation in his calm eyes.

Victor: Your laptop is set to Paris’ timezone. 

I fail to understand the implication behind his words, so I just nod subconsciously. 

MC: Mm, it’s easier to tell the time like that. 

Victor doesn’t speak. He sweeps another glance at the laptop. At this moment, the system sends a report of the weather forecast in Paris over the next five days - there will be continuous rain every day.

He smiles faintly, then closes the laptop slowly.

Victor: ...you’re really becoming more and more dumb.

MC: ...yes yes yes, taking care of a dummy like me is really a bother for Mr CEO. 

I deliberately pout, but can’t help but smile along with Victor. I stand up and retrieve our two empty cups.

MC: I'll go wash the cups. Is there anything you want to eat?

Victor: No need. Are you treating me as you? 

I let out an indignant “hmph”, then turn around and head to the kitchen. 

I originally thought it would only take a few minutes to wash the two cups. But by the time I cleaned and tidied up the tools I used for baking earlier, half an hour has passed. 

When I return to the room, Victor is lying on the bed, my incomplete outline in his hand.

I soften my footsteps and walk over, leaning close to his ear and whispering:

MC: Victor, are you asleep? 

Victor doesn’t respond, but has a shallow intake of breath, his eyelashes quivering gently under the twilight. 

MC: Are you really sleeping or just pretending to sleep? 

Very lightly, I climb onto the bed, inching towards him.

MC: Victor? 

I call his name again softly, but he still does not respond. But the corners of his lips curl up slowly, revealing a smile.  

MC: You aren’t asleep, are you.

I lean one hand on the bed, and use my other hand to lift up a few strands of his hair. 

Looking at his smooth and sharp jawline, my fingertips unconsciously rub the tips of his hair. 

MC: ...have you been very tired recently?

Victor: No.

His words carry with them a certain sleepiness - perhaps he hasn’t had rest in a few days, so he gets drowsy once he relaxes just a little. 

MC: Didn’t you already look at my interview outline? Why are you looking at it again? 

Victor: To see what exactly you were scribbling. 

I think about that heart with its little tail, and am left speechless, as though I got caught having a bad idea. 

Victor: You specially got me here to supervise you, but you only wrote these few sentences the whole afternoon? 

MC: Yeah. Next time, I won’t ask you to be a supervisor! When you’re in front of me, my work efficiency takes a nose-dive. 

I reach out to take my notebook from his hand, then cover him with a blanket. Victor turns his head, his half-closed eyes meeting mine. 

It’s very rare for me to see such a burnt-out look in his eyes. Right now, I can only feel the emotions in my heart towards this person becoming a hundred times more tender. 

MC: Sleep for a while before going to LFG? I’ll wake you up at 7.30pm.

With the rigour of Victor’s schedule, several important meetings were cancelled at short notice so he could fly to Paris. After that, his return was delayed twice.

We already agreed that he’d return before Saturday, but it suddenly changed to Saturday itself...

This wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t an extremely troublesome matter. 

...and he still stubbornly said that he wasn’t tired.

I place my forefingers on his temples, making slow circles. After a while, a soft laugh drifts from his lips. 

Victor: [releases a sigh which sounds like a moan lol]...

Victor takes my right hand and encloses it in his palm, wordlessly pulling me closer to him. 

With this distance, every one of his breaths mingle with mine. I can’t help but bend down, pressing the corner of my lips to his fringe.

In the quiet darkness, I hear the frequency of our heartbeats and breathing mingling and becoming more and more synchronised.

Victor: ...there’s no need to worry about me. I haven’t reached the point where a dummy has to worry about me.

MC: Mm, I got it. 

I respond softly, but can’t hide the touch of peace in my smile. 

MC: ...I just can’t help it.

Can’t help but worry if you’re hungry or not, whether you're cold or not, whether you’re tired or not. 

Can’t help but want to see you, whether you’re in front of me or not.

Can’t help but reveal the smile in my brows and lips just because you surface in my mind. 

I look out the window - the clouds spread across the dim twilight and the stars are looming. The golden sunset and the quietness of the night meet at the end of the sky. 

The sun is about to set.

MC: Victor, I didn’t finish the interview outline before the sun set. Are you going to punish me? 

Victor: ...

The only response I get is the sound of his steady and peaceful breathing. 

I lower my head and look at his sleeping face. This familiar side profile has gotten slightly thinner over the span of just a few days. I reach out, stroking his cheek in mid-air.

Afraid to disturb him, I silently watch him.

MC: Sleep then.

MC: ...

MC: Sleep peacefully. 

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

He Used to be Mine

Modern!Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 3186 of pure sadness.

Warnings: mention of divorce, marriage break down, drink, infidelity, angst. I’m really sorry again Poe. There is NO happiness to be had here!

With a sigh you shut the front door, the house was dark but you didn’t need lights as you made your way upstairs. This was your house and it had been for the last 10 years, when you bought it with your…..husband. You pushed the door open to your bedroom, the moonlight shining through the window as you sat on the bed, your hand trailing over the bedsheets, the ones you’d bought with him. You’d been on a date tonight and you reeked of perfume, his favourite perfume. It made you feel like a fraud, nasty as memories of his voice echoed around you. Whispers of his declaration of love, whispers of how he’d never leave you and you closed your eyes as you tried to stop the tears from coming but they leaked out your closed lids regardless. You ripped the dress off you had on, the mascara burning your eyes, you hated yourself for dressing up, for attempting to look pretty for anyone other than him. It made you feel cheap, like you were cheating, but you weren’t. You were single and free to do what you liked but it wasn’t a feeling you liked. You stalked towards the shower hoping to wash off the stench of your evening out, the smell of thrice cooked chips and steak stuck to your hair and you hated it, a reminder of another man who wasn’t your husband. Ex husband. Not quite though, still got to sort the house and all the financial mess before you were completely free of him. You leaned on the cold tiles as the hot water washed over you, running down your body and you imagined it washing away your troubles but when you stepped out you felt even heavier than before. You slipped on some pjs before getting into bed, you only ever got in your side, you couldn’t get in his side, it was ingrained in you to sleep on the right and his side was always the left no matter where you were. You tried not to look at the empty side of the bed but your gaze was drawn to the still made half of the bed as you sat there, your light bathing you in the warm glow just accentuating how alone you really were. You hastily shut the light off feeling the familiar despair creeping up on you as you shivered alone in the big bed all by yourself, you scrunched your face up as you tried not to miss his arm thrown over your hips, his face burying in your hair, the way he whispered good night before falling asleep, his body pressed against you keeping you warm. You moved your pillow with a jerky movement as you tried to contain the tears but they spilled from you silently as they did every night since you told him he should pack up and go.

‘Poe? You home?’ You dumped the bags in the kitchen.

‘Yeah I’m home.’

‘I was thinking about salmon for dinner, pesto sauce, some cheese and veg then we can watch that film you mentioned the other day….’ you paused as you tried to remember the film he said and you shook your head as the name evaded you completely, he’d tell you anyway. You unpacked the bags of shopping, putting food in the fridge and cupboards, you looked up and smiled as he came into the room. ‘Hi husband,’ you stepped towards him and kissed his cheek before opening the fridge.

‘We need to talk.’ You looked at the block of cheese in your hand as you ground your teeth together.

‘Oh yeah? What about?’ You said cheerily as you slowly placed the cheese in the door, not quite ready to close it yet, not quite ready to look at his face. He said your name and you closed your eyes refusing to believe this was happening, you slammed the fridge door shut and moved straight onto the pasta on the side opening the cupboard and placing it in there.

‘Can you just stop for a second?’

‘I can’t if I want to get dinner on.’ You said and even you noticed the edge to your voice as you grabbed something else, refusing to turn round and face him, refusing to acknowledge what you knew he was going to say. He didn’t know but you’d seen the messages, all of them.

‘Come on I need to talk to you, please?’ His voice tugged at you and slowly you turned, your hands gripping the kitchen counter in a death grip as you refused to look at his face. He didn’t come near you, choosing to stand the other side of the island as he fiddled with his phone and you noticed his wedding ring was off. Already. He wasn’t wasting any time. He sighed and your eyes flickered up to his face, his hand ran through his salt and pepper curls as he tried to look for the words he wanted to say. You pulled your eyes away from him hating how your heart swelled every time you looked at him, how you felt that rush of love even after you knew what he’d done.

‘I’ve seen the messages.’ His hands stilled and his head snapped up to look at you, his gorgeous face wearing an expression of surprise.

‘What…?’

‘I’ve seen them. Not very well hidden, messaging her on your signed in email account.’ At least he had the decency to look ashamed, you thought.

‘I’m sorry….’

‘I suggest you go and pack.’ You turned away grabbing a tin of tomatoes tightly in your hand as your eyes filled with the tears you’d been fighting for days.

‘You ok, I guess I’ll go and do that now,’ his voice was soft and it felt like a stab in your heart as he left the kitchen, no fight, no denial, just pure acceptance of what he’d done.

You wiped your eyes, still refusing to make a sound as you stared at the open bedroom door, he’d always come to bed after you making sure you were comfy and settled before sliding in behind you and you hated how much you missed him. Had you not been a good wife? Had you done something wrong? Thoughts tumbled around in your head tormenting you every single day, every time you slowed down your brain dragged you down into the pits and you hated how it made you feel. You were sick of crying yourself to sleep, sick of going on rubbish dates because none of them were him. None of them even came close, they all looked promising on paper but not a single one matched up to your Poe.

‘Mrs Dameron?’ You looked up at a smartly dressed receptionist as she beamed at you, her blonde hair in a tight bun and her red lipstick was perfect. Her figure was one to die for wrapped in a tight white blouse and a pinstripe pencil skirt and you couldn’t help but feel hideous and frumpy in her presence.

‘Mr Hanson will see you now.’ You smiled as you gathered your bag to you and followed her down the quiet corridor, her high heels thudded gently with smart steps as she led you to the office of your lawyer.

‘Mrs Dameron!’ He came round the desk taking your hand in his and sitting on the edge of his desk as he sat down in one of his plush leather seats. ‘Thank you for coming, how are you doing?’

‘Oh, you know,’ you shrugged not really knowing what to say, did you tell him you cried every night? Or did you just smile and pretend you were fine? The latter was more socially acceptable, right?

‘Right well, we have a meeting in just over 5 minutes, do you need a drink, tea, coffee?’ You raised an eyebrow as you really thought you could do with a gin and tonic. ‘A coffee will be great.’

‘Great, oh Daisy!’ The receptionist paused at the doorway that disarming beaming smile dazzling you again. ‘Be a dear and get Mrs Dameron a coffee? Extra creamy, yes?’ You nodded, not really caring.

‘I’ll bring it into the conference room.’

‘Thanks Daisy! Right, we should head there as they will be here soon.’

‘’I’m sorry, who’s this meeting with?’ He looked up at you with a pity filled expression on his face.

‘Mr Dameron and his lawyer will be joining us today to talk over the marital assets.’ You nodded, of course they were. ‘Come on, it looks good if we beat them to the table.’ You rose and followed him back down the corridor, your feet dragging slightly as you wished you could be anywhere but here. About to face your ex husband who cheated on you. About to split your entire life between you like all those years meant nothing.

You slipped into a seat as your lawyer got his papers out of the briefcase, your eyes were drawn to the door as it opened, the receptionist showing in the other lawyer and her eyes dragging suggestively over your husband. You felt a flush of jealousy as she asked them what drink they wanted, all smiles and teeth as she gently placed a hand on your husband's arm promising to be right back. Ex husband. Your eyes followed her out of the room before dropping back to look at Poe. It had been a few months since you’d seen him and he hadn’t changed, you weren’t sure what to expect but his suit was crisp and clean and you felt a stab that maybe she had done if for him. You stood smiling and shook hands with Poe’s lawyer. You went to sit back down when Poe’s hand grabbed yours before you had a chance to pull away completely. His deep brown eyes looking earnestly at you as your hand automatically gripped his in return.

‘Hi,’ that lopsided smile you knew and loved so much toyed at the corners of his mouth until you snatched your hand back, clearing your throat as you sat back down trying to concentrate on what was being said. Most of it went over your head and the lawyers did the balk of the talking, you coasted your way through trying not to think about how good your husband looked across the table, how good his curls looked today or the stubble on his face. Ex husband.

Finally the meeting came to an end and you shook hands with everyone again, slipping out of the room you swiftly heading to the lift pressing the button a few times hoping it would come quicker even though you knew it wouldn’t work.

‘You know it won’t come any quicker…’ You tried not to look at him as he stood so easily next to you, his hand fiddling with his tie as he looked up the numbers above the lift doors. Thankfully it chimed its arrival and you slipped inside but he followed you and you both reached for the ground floor button at the same time.

‘Oh I’m sorry,’ you gasped in surprise and pulled your hand away.

‘No I’m sorry.’ You stared at the button.

‘You should push it,’ you said softly.

‘Right. Yeah,’ he hastily pushed it and you watched the doors slide shut, silence stretched between you as you both stood awkwardly in the small space together. ‘See you…’ you smiled automatically and nodded politely as the doors slid open, you let Poe exit first trailing after him as he cut a path through the busy foyer and out onto the street. You saw him pause just to the side of the doors pulling a packet of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and lighting one. He took a long drag, his eyes surveying the busy street as he blew the smoke up into the air.

‘I thought you gave those up.’ He looked down at the floor as he rested a foot on the building, leaning against the wall. He took another drag before looking at you.

‘I did.’ You backed up a step, what were you doing? Did it really matter if he was smoking? He wasn’t your problem anymore. You went to walk off but he called your name and your heart skipped a beat. ‘Can I stop by later and grab some more clothes?’

‘Sure, they’ve been bagged up in the garage for weeks.’ This time he let you go, your heart like a heavy weight in your chest as you walked back to the car.

It got to about 6pm when you heard the garage door go, you stared at the gin bottle on the side and the empty tonic cans, ah shit. Maybe you’d had one too many. You slipped off the stall, the floor shifting slightly and you frowned as you headed to the front door, your bare feet padding lightly on the floor. You could hear him moving stuff, putting bags in the car and you placed a hand on the door wishing with all your might this wasn’t happening. You jumped at the knock on the door and you took a shaky breath before opening it, he stood there his curls flopping over his forehead, his hands were shoved in his pockets and his brown eyes wide as he took in your appearance.

‘Can I come in?’ You nodded leaving the door open and heading back to your glass in the kitchen, you downed the last of it before dumping it in the sink wishing he’d just take his shit and go already. The sound of your name made you jump slightly and you turned, using the counter to stop you losing your balance.

‘What do you want Poe?’ Your voice sounded harsh and you refused to look at him.

‘We haven’t talked….since it happened.’ You shrugged.

‘What is there to talk about, you decided I wasn’t good enough anymore and you moved on.’

‘Oh gods, is that what you think?’ He asked, his hand rubbing his face as he looked at you. You took a deep breath trying to stop the tears from flowing.

‘Yes. That’s what I think…’

‘It wasn’t like that at all.’ He took a few steps towards you but you moved round to the other side of the island, keeping distance between you.

‘It doesn’t matter now…’

‘Of course it matters!’ You flinched slightly at his raised voice and he clenched a fist at his mouth as if he regretted his tone. ‘It matters to me, that you know the truth.’

‘I don’t want to hear it…’ you began to head upstairs but he stopped you.

‘Yes you need to hear it…’

‘No!’ You felt the tide begin to wash over you as you stared into those brown eyes you had adored so much. ‘You should leave,’ you whispered.

‘No, not yet.’ You backed away from him slowly making your way up the steps.

‘Please…’ you begged, wishing he would just leave.

‘Just hear me out,’ he said stepping forward.

‘Poe!’ It came out almost as a scream and he halted at the bottom of the stairs. ‘You’re tearing me apart!’ Your shaking hands rose to your face as your vision blurred with tears.

‘Sunflower…’

‘No! You have no right to call me that anymore…’

‘Baby please just let me talk!’ You turned and sprinted upstairs but he caught you before you could lock yourself in the bathroom and you dug your hands in the carpet as you cried loudly at the top of the stairs, he lay next to you, his hands covering yours as he whispered your name, his own pain evident in his voice.

‘You broke my heart!’ You cried against the floor, the sobs coming thick and fast but you still managed one last question. ‘Was she worth it?’

‘No, no she wasn’t.’ You felt yourself crumble, the sobs wracking your body, you had no more fight in you as he gathered you to him, whispering words you couldn’t hear as he held you tightly. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry I did this, I broke us I’m so sorry,’ he kissed the top of your head as you cried into his top, your fingers clutching at the leather jacket he always wore. His warm hands moved to your face tilting you up to look at him, his thumbs gently wiped the tears off your face as you tried to contain yourself, his eyes were red as he gazed down at you, his own tears spilling down his face.

‘Poe…’

‘I’m sorry. I have nothing else to say.’ You nodded slowly pulling yourself away from him, you sat back against the wall too exhausted to move any more than that. He leant against the bannister at the top of the stairs opposite you, his legs stretched out next to you and you noticed he had taken his shoes off.

‘You didn’t have to take them off,’ you said softly. He sniffed and gave a small laugh.

‘Are you kidding? You’re always on at me about my shoes indoors…’ he trailed off as he realised you wouldn’t be nagging him anymore.

‘Did you get your stuff?’ He shrugged as he pulled at a piece of skin on his hand.

‘For now.’ You both sat in silence almost like you didn’t want the companionship to end but knowing it had to. You tried to find something else to say but all words failed you as you looked at your husband. Ex husband.

‘You should go,’ he nodded, not looking at you as he stood up, you used the wall as support leaning against it wishing you could go to bed.

‘Can I…..’ his eyes rose to meet yours as he stepped towards you. ‘Can I kiss you goodbye?’ His voice cracked slightly as his hand captured yours, his warm fingers intertwining with yours as he stepped even closer. Your eyes were wide as he dipped towards you, his hand tensing in yours and his lips met yours gently. You could taste the saltiness from both your tears as you let him in, his tongue taking possession of you completely. His other hand slid up your neck and your hand dug into his soft salt and pepper curls that you loved so much. He stole the very breath from your lungs as he kissed you with a need you hadn’t felt for such a long time and as he pulled away you wished it hadn’t ended. He started making his way down the stairs, his fingers slowly sliding out of yours, the last lingering connection between you both and you watched as it slowly disintegrated right before your eyes. He put his shoes on and opened the front before casting one last look up at you, he held a hand up in a farewell gesture and you did the same, the sound of the door closing echoed around the empty house and you felt more alone now than when he first left. It was over, your marriage was over.

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 4. Low Flying Stationery

Summary: Steve realises that the only way out of the seeming hole he’s dug himself into is to come clean about his feelings to Katie, only that’s easier said than done.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Language! Angst and a pair of total dumbasses in love… A/N: Once again, a huge thank you to @angrybirdcr​ for her lovely little edit.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 3

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist 

   “I went under, the world was at war, I wake up and they say we won. They didn’t say what we lost.”

“Yeah, well we’ve made some mistakes along the way. Some very recently…”

Steve woke up with a start, taking a deep breath as he blinked, coming out of his sleep addled haze. It didn’t take a genius to work out why his mind had taken him back to that particular moment in time, and it wasn’t wasted on him either that this time he was the one who had made the big assed mistake the night before…

Glancing at his clock, he decided that 5:00 am wasn’t too early, so he changed and headed out for a run, pounding his frustration out on the wet ground beneath his feet. He was so annoyed at himself for simply letting Katie walk out with no protest at all. He should have stopped her, gone after her, he realised that now.

It was official, he was the world’s biggest moron.

He knew now that the only way to salvage anything from this mess was to be honest, regardless of how she felt or didn’t feel as the case may be. So, as he thundered round past the Lincoln Memorial for the fourth time, he started to plan out exactly what he was going to say. By the time he got home an hour and a half later, and climbed into a scalding hot shower, he was feeling slightly more positive. 

He just hoped she’d hear him out.

***** After a night of tossing and turning, alternating between being angry at herself and pissed at Steve, Katie had also been up at a ridiculous time, but unlike Steve she had curled up on her sofa with a film, counting the minutes down until it was an acceptable time to call her brother.

“Seven thirty AM?” Tony drawled as he answered. “You wet the bed?”

“Fuck off” She shot back “No, just had a shitty end to yesterday and thought I’d call to hear a friendly voice. Beginning to wonder why I bothered.”

“Bad day?” Tony’s voice softened “Ok Kiddo, I’m all ears.”

“Nah don’t wanna talk about it.” Katie said, and she didn’t. There was NO WAY she was telling Tony about Steve and whatever the hell nearly went down. That was a whole shit storm she didn’t want landing at Steve’s feet. “So what’s new with you?”

“Nothing much.” Tony sniffed.

“How’s things with you and Pepper? Still behaving?”

“I’m insulted you even asked me that.”

“I know you too well.” She chuckled.

“Well, if you really wanna know they’re going great. I’m thinking of taking her out to the Island in a couple of weeks. A dirty week away…”

“Ok too much information” she grimaced as Tony’s chuckle hit her ears “You’re nasty”

“I’m in love!” He said in a sing-song voice, making Katie roll her eyes.

“I never thought I’d see the day where you love someone more than yourself.”.

“What is this, Kiddo? Insult Tony day?” He scoffed making her laugh. “I love lots of things more than myself.”

“Yeah, like what?”

“You, Pepper…” the line was silent for a few seconds before he finished “Nope, that’s it.”

Katie laughed “I’m honoured.”

“So you should be, it’s a very hard list to make.”

They talked for another half an hour about all sorts of crap, Katie simply happy to hear her brother’s voice as it had been weeks since she’s seen him, far too long in her opinion. Eventually they both had to get ready for work so after breakfast and a shower she felt a little better although her stomach was still flipping slightly at the thought of seeing Steve. He’d messaged her a few times last night but she’d completely ignored him, and was feeling a little shitty about it now, if she was honest.

But, there was nothing she could do except apologise and hopefully they could move on and in time forget it.

When she walked into the Tactical Ops Office,  Clint and Natasha were already in there, eating a pastry each, both with a coffee in hand and she was touched, as always, to see one waiting on her desk for her. But not touched enough to let Barton get away with using her desk as a foot rest.

“Get your feet down…” Katie slapped at his legs.

“Rude,” he muttered, removing them and placing his feet on the floor. “I bought you coffee.”

“Which is both appreciated and needed.” she pecked him on the cheek. “Thanks Hawkeye”

“You look like you aint slept all night.” Nat eyed Katie shrewdly as she shrugged off her coat “Who is he?”

“I should be so lucky” Katie mumbled dropping into her chair. She didn’t tell them that the reason she hadn’t slept all night was thanks to a certain blue eyed super soldier, but not because he was in bed with her, more so because he wasn’t.

“Better take a nap this afternoon then.” Clint pointed at her. “Want you on good form for the party.”

“What party?” Katie frowned.

“Rumlow’s 40th…”

She groaned. “That’s tonight?”

“Yeah.” Clint nodded, before he let out a snort as he looked over his shoulder at Nat “Now this is gonna be interesting.”

“What?” Katie frowned

“He’s referring to the fact I’ve been planning an outfit for a few days…” Nat yawned, examining her nails.

“Yeah and seeing you try and figure one out in a few hours, Nova, is gonna be amazing…”

 “Not like I’m short of options,” Katie shrugged “I mean half the shit in my closet hasn’t seen the light of day in years.”

“You can always gift it to me.” Natasha quipped back

“Speaking of gifts, has anyone done a collection for dearest Brock?” Clint looked around. “I mean it is his 40th party after all, we should probably get him something…”

 “Like what?” Nat asked.

“I dunno. What’s he into?” Clint pondered.

“I know what he’d like to get into.” Nat responded with a smirk. “Nova’s pants…”

At that Clint let out a bark of a laugh just as Steve walked through the door, expertly catching the pencil that Katie threw at the Archer.

“Beware low flying stationery.” Steve quipped as casually as he could, tossing the item onto the desk in front of Clint who leaned back in his chair, putting his feet back on the surface. Steve locked eyes with Katie for a second and he saw her take a deep, steadying breath before she looked over at Clint as he responded to Steve’s joke.

“It wasn’t flying, it was thrown.” he smirked. “Just Stark here getting a little upset about Nat’s joke.”

“I wasn’t upset, it was just a shit joke.” Katie rolled her eyes

“But it’s true, that’s what’s so funny!” Clint snorted “Admit it, you know he’s after a bit…”

“Can we just change the subject, please?” Katie groaned, turning to the keyboard on her desk. She could feel Steve’s eyes burning into her back as she tried to concentrate on the screen, ignoring him.

“You coming tonight Cap?” Clint asked

“Rumlow’s 40th?” Steve asked and Clint nodded

“Did everyone remember except me?” Katie looked round.

“Pretty much.” Nat nodded

Katie scowled.

“You’re a proper little ray of sunlight today.” Clint snorted at the expression on her face.

“I told you I’m tired.”

“Try going to bed and sleeping.” Nat quipped and this time it was a highlighter pen that flew across the room.

“Carry on and it will be a stapler.” Katie frowned. “I was alone, thank you. Unless you count my pillow.”

Steve looked down at his feet

“Was the pillow good?” Clint asked, and she glared at him, picking up the stapler as he laughed, holding his hands up.

“Anyway, Romanoff…” Steve deftly changed the subject as Katie slammed the stapler back down.  “You ready for ops drill or…”

Nat groaned and pushed her chair back across the floor with a scrape. “Slave driver…catch you later Stark”

“Yeah see ya…” Katie didn’t bother turning round.

“I’m due on the range in 10 with the new recruits so…” Clint stood up and followed Nat before he stopped and turned back, glancing over his shoulder again before he spoke.

“Listen, don’t tell Widow I asked this but what’s the dress code for tonight? I better start sorting out what I’m wearing whilst I get chance…”

Katie stopped before she turned slowly in her seat and smirked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

“You hypocrite! It’s smart casual and if you don’t want me to tell Nat, it’ll cost you a beer”

“A beer for your silence… why haven’t we done this trade before?”

“Fuck off!” she flicked him the finger as he disappeared out of the office leaving Steve and her alone.

 “Hey.” He spoke gently, testing the water “You alright?”

“Yeah” she nodded, looking up at him and he smiled, that fucking smile again and she cleared her throat. “Honestly I’m just tired.”

“You ran out on me.” he pointed out, studying her face.

“You didn’t exactly stop me Steve.” she shot back and he sighed.

“I know.” he swallowed “But you could have messaged me back.”

“Sorry, I was just…” Katie ran her hand over her face. “Actually, I don’t know what I was to be honest.”

There was a pause, a little awkward silence filling the room before Steve took a deep breath.

“Listen.” he began, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “About last night, what…well, what nearly happened. I err, I wanted to say that I-”

“It’s fine.” Katie cut him off quickly. “I get it, it was an emotional day and there was a lot for you to process and deal with. I mean, I was all over the place so I expect you were too. Guess we just…”

She trailed off and something inside Steve died a little. She’d felt sorry for him, that was the only reason they’d shared that moment.  He struggled to keep his face straight as he shrugged, looking down at his hands, all thoughts of his planned speech flying out of his head.

“We’re okay, right?” Katie looked at him, and he glanced up, smile fixed on his face.

“Sure” he nodded, hopping off the desk. “Listen, I need to…” he pointed to the door.

“Yeah, course. I have a tonne of stuff to do anyway. I wanna get home in time for a nap”

He chuckled. “So I’ll err, see you tonight?” he asked.

“Yeah, see you there.”

Katie watched him leave and as soon as he was clear of the room Katie took a shaky breath trying to stem the tears that were threatening once more to pour down her cheeks.

****** 

A wave of sound, both music and the noise of chatter hit Steve’s ears the minute he opened the door. He spotted Nat and Clint leaned against the bar and after saying hi to Rumlow and anyone else who greeted him he made his way over to the other two avengers and smiled.

“Hey Cap” Clint said, clapping him on his shoulder. “Beer?”

“Thanks Barton.”

Clint ordered his drink as Steve glanced around the room, looking for that familiar shock of brunette.

“She’s not here yet.” Nat drawled and he looked at her.

“Right.” He nodded simply, accepting the beer.

“Nice shirt” Clint grinned and Steve glanced down.

“Very modern.” Nat said,

“Romanoff,” Steve rolled his eyes. “You’re a pain in my ass…”

“She’s a pain in everyone’s ass.” Clint shrugged and Nat simply quirked an eyebrow at him as Steve gave a small chuckle, taking a slug of his beer.

“It’s one of my more endearing qualities.” she quipped.

Clint opened his mouth to say something but stopped as his eyes fell on someone and he smiled. Steve turned slightly to follow his gaze to see Katie making her way over towards them and boy, he had to stop his mouth falling open because she looked amazing. Tight black jeans, patent red heels and a sleeveless red top that plunged down her cleavage and tightened in to her waist before flaring out slightly. Her make up looked different, it was still light but she’d done something to her eye lids as they shimmered with a gold colour that made her eyes stand out even more.

Clint dropped a kiss to her cheek when she reached his side and Steve got a sudden hit of her perfume, the underlying floral tones that he associated with her, and he took a deep breath.

“About time…” Clint smiled at Katie. “We thought you had got lost.”

“Yeah, sorry I needed a nap.” she shrugged, nodding to Natasha and Steve.

“You want a drink?” Clint turned back to the bar waving at the tender.

“Yeah, I’ll have a gin thanks.”

“I like this.” Nat mused, her hand toying with the hem of her top. “New?”

“No, I dug it out from the doldrums of my closet.” she smiled, thanking Clint for the drink as he handed it to her. “I told you, I forget what’s in there sometimes.”

“Must be hard being so rich you can afford that many clothes you forget what you have.” Nat smirked, and Katie flipped her off drawing a snort from the red head.

 “Table over there.” Clint spoke, nodding over to the right. “Shall we?”

The four of them made their way over and settled into a comfortable conversation as normal, but both Katie and Steve were ridiculously aware of one another. The smells of cologne and perfume, the feel of his shirt clad arm as it brushed against hers when he moved, her laugh which rang out over the table…

It was torture for them both.

After four rounds of drinks however, Katie had started to relax a little, dare she even say enjoy herself, so it was bound to be a matter of time before something else went wrong.

And it did, in spectacular fashion.

“Who’s round is it?” Clint announced “I’m ready for some shots…”

“Mine, I think.” Katie glanced round for one of the guys who was providing table service, when someone talking to Rumlow caught her attention. Tall, short dark hair, dark denim jeans and a white shirt. To most of the people in the room, the back of that man could have been anyone. But to Katie, well, she knew instantly who it was.

And her good mood sank as fast as it had been rising.

“Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me.” She mumbled. Steve, who had felt her tense next to him, looked down at her as Natasha frowned.

“What?”

“Ward’s here…”

Clint’s hand slipped and he almost sent the remainder of his beer flying as he scanned the room, his eyes narrowing.

“Ward as in, your ex Ward?” Steve asked, feeling the heat rise in his neck. She nodded and across the table Clint started grinding his teeth in a combination of anger and irritation.

Katie watched the back of her ex’s head, and then he turned to look around the room and their eyes locked. His mouth fell open slightly before he composed himself, and turned back to talk to Rumlow, running his hand through his hair, the way he always did when he was trying to act cool.

Katie snorted and turned back to the table.

“Want me to go punch him?” Clint leaned over towards her. “Because I’d really like to.”

Steve found himself thinking that was a great idea but Katie shook her head.

“Just ignore him. I am.”

*****

After three further gin and tonics and two tequilas had worked their way through her system Katie excused herself and headed out to the bathroom. Once she was gone, Clint shook his head.

“I cannot believe that fucking prick showed up.” He growled, waiving the waiter over. “Damned it I hate him.”

“I gathered.” Steve smirked as Clint ordered another round of drinks.

“I mean…what the fuck…why is he even here?” the archer continued to rant and Nat gently laid a hand on hi arm.

“Clint, don’t you think you’re overreacting a little?” She soothed.

“You didn’t see her Nat, that night when she caught him…she was a mess.”

“So was his car.” Natasha grinned and Clint snorted.

“His car?” Steve asked.

“Yeah…” Clint gave a small laugh. “She smashed up the body work…and I left four arrows in his tyres.”

Steve felt a surge of affection the archer as he took a deep breath, looking around. There was no sign of Katie, or Ward. Something seemed a little off, like things weren’t quite right…

 “I’m gonna go check if she’s okay” he stood up, missing the glance that Natasha and Clint shared.

As it happens, Katie wasn’t ok. Nothing about walking out of the bathroom and bumping, literally, into your cheating fucker ex was ever going to be ok.

 “Hi K.” Ward said, as his hands gently grabbed round her arms steadying her, his familiar smell washed over her senses. She pulled back immediately, shaking off his grip.

“Don’t call me that.”

He sighed “C’mon…”

“What do you want, Grant?”

“Hey, you bumped into me.” He chuckled. “You look amazing by the way.”

She snorted, and looked away.

“Look, I just wanted to say, well, I hate how we left things, you know? And I…”

“How we left thigs?” Katie’s eyes locked back onto his as she let out a sarcastic laugh.  “The only thing I left was your apartment after finding you in bed with some blond bimbo.”

“The biggest mistake of my life.” Grant sighed, “I honestly mean that…”

“Is this the part where you say sorry for cheating on me and beg for my forgiveness?” Katie watched as the dark brown eyes that she had once found irresistible bore into hers and she felt the anger simmering again. She’d worked so long to get this man out of her system, but here he was, daring to try and smarm her into accepting an apology.  The sheer audacity of it was making her want to scream.

“I am sorry. I genuinely am…”

“You’re sorry you got caught. There’s a difference.”

“No, that’s not it.” Grant shook his head. “There hasn’t been a single day where I haven’t thought about you and how I fucked up.”

He ran his hand through his hair and Katie shook her head.

“Let’s be honest, she wasn’t the first was she?” She looked up at him. Grant dropped his head and that was all the confirmation she needed. “Our relationship, it was a car crash.”

“I loved you.”

“Seriously? You’re trying that one?” She looked at him, and then burst out laughing. “Oh Jesus…” She shook her head in disbelief and made to walk round him but he grabbed her arm.

“What’s so funny?”

“Let go of me.”

“I asked you a question…”

“And she asked you to let her go.” A familiar voice said and Katie looked up to see Steve stood in the corridor, hands on his belt buckle as the door to the main bar area swung shut behind him, causing the loud background noise to fade slightly. “She won’t need to ask again.”

“Sorry…I…” Ward, let go of her arm as he composed himself and extended his arm in greeting.  “Captain Rogers. We haven’t been formally introduced. I’m-“

“I know who you are, Agent Ward” Steve looked at him, not even moving to take the man’s proffered hand, and he saw Ward’s jaw twitch, as his arm dropped back to his side, fist balling and unballing.

“I see. ” Ward raised an eyebrow, looking from Katie, to Steve and he took a deep breath and nodded. “I meant what I said. I really am sorry.”

Katie didn’t reply, simply watched him leave as he brushed past Steve who moved to the side to let him pass, but only after shooting him one last contemptuous look before the Captain turned back to Katie.

“Are you ok? Did he hurt you?” Steve asked her, stepping forward, noting she was rubbing the place on her arm where Ward’s hand had gripped.

“Hurt me?” she frowned.

“Yeah, your arm.” He nodded to it.

“Oh, no.” she said, shaking her head as her hand moved. “That was just weird.”

“Weird?”

“Yeah, I mean, well for so long I thought about what I’d say to him when I eventually did see him again, you know, how much he hurt me, broke my heart, but right then when I got the opportunity, I realised I actually don’t give a shit anymore.”

Steve smiled. “Good, I’m glad he didn’t upset you.” There was a pause before he gestured over his shoulder. “You err, you wanna go back in?”

“Do you think anyone would notice if I left?” She shrugged. “I don’t wanna be here anymore and there’s a bottle of wine and a pint of ice cream at home with my name on it”

“What Ice cream?” Steve asked, looking at her, raising his brow hopefully and she shook her head, chuckling.

“Mint choc chip.” she looked at him, before she turned to head towards the door of the bar before she stopped, and spoke again, without looking back. “Suppose I can share.”

With that she pushed the door open and Steve grinned, following her out.

*********

“I don’t know why you wear shoes so high if you can’t walk in them?” Steve snorted as Katie let out a groan, kicking her shoes off as soon as they stepped out of the elevator.

“Because they look good.” She shrugged. “I’m just gonna get changed, won’t be long. Grab yourself a drink.”

Whilst she was in the bedroom Steve did as he was told and grabbed a beer for himself, and poured Katie a glass of wine before carrying them into the lounge and setting them on the coffee table. He had to stop himself from staring when she walked back into the room, all long legs and thigh tattoo, in a pair of denim shorts and a hoody. She dropped heavily onto the sofa besides him, taking her wine and gulping down a large mouthful.

“You sure you’re ok?” he asked, looking at her.

“Stop asking me that, Steve.” She snapped. “I’m fine.”

“Sorry, I didn’t…”

“No, I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “That was uncalled for.” She looked at him and gave a soft smile. “I’m fine, honestly. And thank you, for being there before.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” Steve shook his head. “I care about you Katie, you know that. And, well, frankly, when I saw him with his hand on you, I wanted to smash his face into the wall.”

Katie let out a huff of laughter as she glanced at her wine glass.  “You’ll have to get behind Tony in the queue.”

Steve looked down at his beer, before he took a deep breath. “The guy is a dick.” he said, tilting side on so his arm was over the back of the sofa behind her. “And I don’t mean that just because of tonight. If you were my girl I wouldn’t be looking twice at anyone else.”

Katie smiled, as she looked up at him. “That’s because you’re a gentleman.”

“No.” he shook his head, his blue eyes locking onto hers. “It’s because you’re worth so much more than that.”

“Sure.” she shrugged and Steve pressed his lips together in a firm line of frustration.

“Don’t…”

“What?” she frowned.

“Do that.“ he pressed.

“Do what?”

“Put yourself down. You do it all the time” he sighed.

“I don’t.” She swallowed, looking away.

“Yes, you do. You think so little of yourself but you shouldn’t. Katie, you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met” With that he took a deep breath, there was no going back now. The hand that wasn’t draped around the back of the sofa reached out and tangled in hers and as she raised her head to look at him, her eyes were filled with tears and he swallowed, his mouth feeling suddenly dry as the blood pounded in his ears, his heart beating so rapidly he thought it might burst through his chest.

He had to make her understand, just how deep his feeling went.

His right hand gently moved from the sofa back to the side of her jaw where he simply cupped her face and she closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. When she opened them again, it was just in time to see his gaze flicker to her mouth, before he leaned forward, a movement that was slow and seemed to take forever, until his lips met hers in a soft, sweet kiss that set every single nerve in her body on edge.  

Steve pulled away slightly, just enough so that he could look into her eyes, make sure she was okay with this, and finding nothing but eagerness on her part, he pressed his lips back to hers.

The entire world around them faded to nothing and they both relaxed as this time the kiss deepened slightly, his hand still cupping her cheek as he slid his tongue gently across her bottom lip. She obliged, opening her mouth slightly and at the touch of her tongue on his Steve felt a jolt of electricity surge up his spine.  Eventually they broke away and Steve gently slid his nose along hers unable to keep the smile off his face as their foreheads rest together.

“Where did you learn to kiss like that, Captain Badass?” She whispered and he gave a chuckle.

“To be honest with you…” he sat up slightly, his right hand returning to where it had been before, resting on the back of the sofa “I don’t think I have until now.”

She grinned and tucked her hair behind her ear with a hand that was trembling from nerves, adrenaline and absolute pleasure at being kissed by the utter God of a man sat on her sofa.

“So err…” Steve licked his lips. “I know this might be a little late, so to speak after, well, erm, yeah, but I’d really like to take you out, you know, on a date?”

Katie blinked as he stuttered over his words, and suddenly became aware she was chewing on her lip. She felt heat in her cheeks as she looked at him and nodded, smiling softly. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

That crooked grin she knew and had come to love spread across his face.

“You free tomorrow?” he asked before hastily correcting himself “It’s Saturday, or is that too soon? We could always go next weekend instead if you want or-”

“Steve,” she cut him off, gently squeezing her fingers round his, “tomorrow is fine.”

“Great, tomorrow…that’s…great…” He trailed off as Katie held his gaze.

The air between them seemed to crackle and this time it was her that initiated the kiss. This one was slightly deeper, the fire in her belly was hotter and that naughty part of her would have loved nothing more than to throw her hands round his neck and pull him down on top of her. But Steve Rogers was nothing if not a gentleman, and she didn’t want to rush into anything. She’d waited too long for this to fuck it up by moving too fast. With that in mind she willed herself to pull away.

“So err, you wanna watch a film or…” She glanced at the TV.

“Yeah…” Steve gave a little chuckle, his eyebrows raising a little before he took a deep breath. “You need another drink?”

Katiee nodded and he hopped up off the sofa, taking her empty glass to top it up, frankly glad of the chance to cool down. He’d had to stop himself then from pushing her down on the couch, but he knew that wouldn’t be the right thing to do. He wanted to do this properly, it was too special to risk.

Katie flicked through the android box, and with a grin found the perfect film, one that was a comedy, not romance or action, something easy.

“The Sandlot?” Steve asked as he handed her the filled glass, reading the title on the screen. “It’s about baseball?”

“More about kids having adventures over summer but yeah, baseball features a lot. It’s funny, you’ll like it” 

“Sure I will.” Steve said, as he settled down next to her.

She pressed play on the film, threw the remote onto the coffee table and lifted Steve’s arm, sliding into place beneath it, tucking herself in against his side with her legs curled up beneath her. It was something she’d done so many times before but this time, well it felt different. Steve pressed a kiss to her head before turning his attention back to the film, his arm draped over her shoulders, fingers gently tracing shapes on her upper arm.

They sat in the dark living room, watching the film, not another word shared. They both laughed, Steve grimacing at the Chewing Tobacco scene where the kids all vomited off the side of a fairground ride, it reminded him far too vividly of the time he had barfed after riding the Cyclone, and at the end when it showed one of the kids playing for the LA Dodgers Steve was the first one to break the comfortable silence, letting out a little snort.

“I still don’t like the fact they aint in Brooklyn any more”

“Really, you never mentioned it.” Katie said sarcastically, sitting up.

He rolled his eyes before he stretched. “I should be going.”

“Yeah, it is late.” Katie agreed, standing up as he did. “And I got a big date tomorrow.”

“Yeah” he asked, paying along as he walked to the door “Anyone I know?”

“Just some guy from work.” she shrugged. “He’s pretty hot but don’t tell him I said so.”

Steve laughed. “You’re a nightmare, you know that?” he smirked.

“Yeah but, you love it.” Katie shrugged as the elevator arrived.

“Yeah, I do.” Steve smiled softly, dropping a gentle kiss to her lips. “Goodnight, Doll.”

“Night Stevie.”

He squeezed her hand and stepped into the elevator and as soon as the doors had closed, a huge shit eating grin spread across both their faces.  

***** Chapter 5

**Original Posting**

[basicjetsetter]

Part V

♡ Pairing: Peter Parker x Black!FemaleReader

▹ Warnings: Fluffy scenes, anxious moments, cliff-hanger

▹ Words: 3.3k

▹ A/N: We are reaching the eye of the storm. Happy reading!

“ ‘Kay, so there’s no way they’re gonna win this game without him turning into the Wolf, right?”

“Finish watching it, Peter.”

Peter musingly shakes his head, mouthful of his fourth slice of pizza. “There’s no way.”

You level a patient smirk at him and point to the television, wordlessly telling him to see for himself.

The screen’s brightness fills your otherwise dark living room, casting shadows along the angles of Peter’s concentrated face. His body is sloped forward, and if he didn’t possess the body control of an enhanced being, he’d fall face-first into your carpet.

Tonight’s movie selection was your choice, and you didn’t want to disappoint. So when Peter said he’d never seen Teen Wolf, you were over the moon. Usually, you’d watch every single second of the classic film, but with Peter sitting cross-legged next to you, his hip pressed against yours as your crossed leg rests on top of his, you spent the entire time covertly peeking at his fascinated expressions.

Well into the third month of your friendship, Peter’s presence in your apartment remains to be an odd sight in a good way. Out of your ordinary. His first time in your apartment came on a day you both chose to escape the sun’s sweltering heat with A/C and ice cream, and like your first conversation in Hal’s, he never made it weird.

It was effortless. Every moment with Peter was like breathing.

If anyone else suggested Friday-night movie nights, you’d have spared no time shutting them down. But your yes to Peter harbored no resistance.

“No way!” An excited smile spreads across Peter’s face as Scott steps to the baseline to take the game-winning free throw shots. “Is he seriously gonna make these?”

You seal your lips, choosing not to spoil the moment, but Peter doesn’t see. His eyes never stray from the screen, and his lips slightly part from the nail-biting suspense. As the last shot falls through the hoop, Peter’s whole jaw drops.

When the end credits roll, he slowly claps. “That was awesome. Like I’ve got some serious chills. How am I going to top that?”

“Eh, you probably won’t,” you reply with a boastful grin. Hidden joy thrums through your body from his excitement. “Might as well call a wrap on movie nights.”

Peter playfully nudges you with his elbow, then checks his watch. “Ah, man, it’s late. I needed to be on patrol half an hour ago.” He’s up in a flash, slipping his shoes on and chewing up the rest of his pizza.

“Do you have to go?” A hint of sadness tinges your words. 

“Yeah, the city would be a mess without me,” he jokes, but you weren’t remiss of his undertone sincerity. “Oh! That reminds me. Some bad guys are out on a robbing spree lately, tailing people at night, so if you work late, can you ask Chris to walk you home? Y’know, just in case I’m not there.”

He does this every time he’s over. Each week, there’s a new thing or group to be leery of, and each time he asks, you immediately nod to erase the gut-sinking concern in his brown eyes.

You rise from the couch and follow Peter to the door. He turns just as he’s about to twist the handle, stalls for a second, then envelopes you into a small, reluctant hug, leaving his arms lax just in case you wanted to pull away. 

Hugging is new, something you’ve only done about five times. The first was an unplanned disaster featuring a hard shove, repeated apologies, and a long, awkward moment of silence. 

You didn’t mean to push him away. It was one of those moments where, even though the urge to reciprocate was there, you couldn’t allow yourself to find comfort in such an innocent gesture. You weren’t ready. He respected that.

You knew your rash reaction bruised Peter more than he let on, but he learned to ease his way into your comfort zone with small touches. An intentional brush of his hand against yours, scooching closer to you on the couch, hi-fives with minimally laced fingers.

It took a while for the second hug-attempt, but you were cautiously prepared when it happened.

This time around, you return the gesture, winding your arms around his middle and setting your chin on his shoulder, resisting the urge to nuzzle your nose against his warm neck. His closeness frazzles you, even more so when he diminishes the gap between you, holding you tighter to his chest before releasing you and clearing his throat.

“Be safe,” you warn softly.

He puffs out his chest. “I have nothing to fear except fear itself.”

“That confident, huh?”

“Comes with the job. You get knocked down enough times, you get pretty confident once you realize you can always get back up.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. And yet you still have a fear of heights.”

“Never said I wasn’t afraid of falling. Just that it gets easier getting back up. ‘Sides, most of those petty offenders scare easy. All I gotta do is say I can plant eggs in ‘em.” He shudders at the idea himself.

“Please, Peter,” you implore, a smile sullying your stern frown.

Peter’s grin, always so wholesome and calming, blankets over your nerves. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“Well, I think Spider-Man needs someone to worry about him, sometimes. Even if he can get back up. Just… let caution work alongside confidence.”

He heeds your words with a more allayed smile, curtly nodding. “Vigilance. I can do that.”

You’re tempted to wrap him back into your arms to protect him from whatever dangers lie outside of your apartment. Instead, you exchange simple goodnights and shut the door once he reaches the stairwell.

The room and your shirt preserve his crisp evergreen scent long after he’s gone. It lingers as you crawl into bed. An aromatic reminder of his caress and warm skin.

As far as friendships go, you’ve never had one quite like this. The line you drew in the sand moves. Accommodates. Shrinks. Whether he’s aware of it or not, the time you spend cracking jokes with Peter at Hal’s, listening to his adventurous feats, becoming comfortable with his physical proximity, seeing his smile and the way his eyes light up when you smile at something funny or interesting he’s said, you fall just an inch.

He's growing on you. His presence. His laughter. His beaconing smile. His tentative touch. His uncanny ability to endear himself to your foreclosed heart.

It was easier to deny the connection when you didn’t know Peter. But now that you do, every moment you’re with him intensifies what you’ve painstakingly tried to avoid.

You’re falling in love with your Soulmate.

✦ ✧✦ ✧

Once again, it’s the Saturday brunch rush, and once again, Hal’s is up to its neck in bloodthirsty customers. All the booths are packed, as well as the stools. Some of the parties compact a seat meant for two with four people, and the aisle clogs with those who just came to grab a cup of coffee and conversation.

Chris is in his element, swinging from one booth to the next like a controlled tornado collecting orders, while you and Wendy are the unfortunate bunch who have to clean up desecrated tables and feed the greedy.

“If someone asks me what the specials are one more time, I’m going to rip my hair out,” Wendy grouses behind the counter as she puts away five menus.

You grumble back the same sentiments. Menus exist for a reason. And most of these people aren’t new to Hal’s, so the fact that they always have to ask grinds your gears.

11:30 a.m. is your saving grace. If you can hold on until Peter gets here, you’ll be fine.

Chris stops by the bar, pocketing what appears to be a twenty-dollar bill. “Lighten up, ladies. At least you’re off tomorrow.”

Wendy, in her 5’3’’ stature, looks feral. “I want to be off now.”

A rowdy group of high-schoolers sitting in the farthest booth is holding a contest to see who could drink a milkshake the fastest, and the two unlucky contestants shriek like banshees from self-inflicted brain-freeze. All three of you wince.

“We don’t get paid enough for this.”

Hal shouts from the back. “Order up! And stop slackin’ off out there!”

Wendy’s eye twitches as she marches to the back to pick up the orders. You’d have acted the same way if you didn’t have something to look forward to.

“They’re not going to tip me. I just know it,” Chris says to you, despondently looking over at the teens’ table again.

“They’ll come around. No one can resist this moneymaker.” You lightly bump him on the chin to indicate his smile. Heck, his whole chiseled face is a moneymaker, but that exuberant smile sells it all.

Over the last three months, just like your friendship with Peter, your friendship with Chris has improved. Even with Wendy. You aren’t at each other’s throats nearly as much as you used to be. Last week, she complimented your hairstyle, though it was immediately followed up with a snide comment: progress, either way.

Chris laughs. “And here I thought my friendly personality racked up all the tips.”

“It’s a bonus.”

He chuckles again, then blows out a hesitant breath. “So, Y/N…”

“So, Chris…”

“There’s, um, there’s gonna be another music festival in Cunningham Park tonight, and I was wondering if, y’know, you and Peter might want to come and hang?”

You and Peter… As if you were a pair. An item. A couple. To unsuspecting eyes, you knew you and Peter seemed to be just really good friends. Not even Hal questioned why you spent half an hour talking to him every weekday. If he had an inkling of who Peter actually was to you, he’d have confronted you by now.

Chris, on the other hand, kept a sharp eye on you when Peter was around. As meticulous as you were about keeping up pretenses in public, sometimes you’d slip. Your smile would be a tad too bright when Peter walked through the door and took his usual seat. You’d giggle at his jokes too loud. You’d stare into his eyes too long. Signs too blatant for Chris to miss.

You’re just waiting for him to put the last piece in the puzzle.

“I’d… I’d have to ask Peter.” You take a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “But, yeah, I’ll go.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Sure. Sounds like it’ll be fun. What time is it?”

Chris lays a hand on your forehead. “Temp seems fine. Pupils aren’t dilated. How many fingers am I holding up?”

You swat his hand down with a laugh. “Shut up.”

“Look, I know you probably don’t want me saying this out loud, but I’m glad you met Peter. We all are.”

“Why?” Evidently, you’re not that great at hiding your feelings as you thought.

Chris leans against the bar top, keeping an eye on the door just in case customers walked in. “Well, for starters, you literally just agreed to hang out with me for the first time since you started working here, which was—what—two years ago. And… you… I don’t know. You’re more open, y’know? Smiling and such.”

“I smiled before,” you say, a little defensive.

“Not like you do now. Before, it was all—,” Chris screws his mouth up. It’s strange. Alienated and wire-tight. The corners of his lips don’t fully come up, and it barely reaches his eyes. You instantly recognize it—the smile you hid behind.

Did you really smile like that? How is it that you never noticed how off-putting it was? If a server ever smiled at you like that, you’d assume they wished you disappeared off the face of the earth. Is that the smile people saw? More importantly, when did you stop putting it on?

“Two more strawberry milkshakes over here!” shouted one of the brain-freeze victims.

Chris hops to it. Always the perfect server. On his way to make the shakes, he says, “7 p.m.”

“I’ll be there.”

You weren’t going to confirm for Peter until he was there to answer for himself, but he doesn’t show. 11:30 a.m. and the rest of your shift flies by without a sight of him, which is strange, but not uncommon. Homework might have him tied up. September is a pretty busy month for schoolwork, and mid-terms are approaching, so he might be buried in assignments.

Worry doesn’t settle in until you’re getting ready for the music festival at 6:30 p.m., and Peter still hasn’t sent so much as a voicemail.

Evening summer sunlight filters in through your open window, the active sounds of Queens’ busy streets and subway station not allowing your room to fall quiet. Nights like this are perfect for outdoor festivals because it’s warm enough to sit in the grass and not bring a jacket.

Rather than enjoy the idea of getting out for the first time in years, your mind remains hooked on Peter.

It’s not like him not to leave a text if he’s caught up in other things. He’d make sure to tell you where he is, how far away. Since the beginning of this friendship, starting with his little notes, Peter’s constant communication wasn’t something you expected. But now that you do, this behavior just doesn’t match what you’re used to.

You pace the floor of your small bedroom, back and forth, wall to wall, abusively chewing your lower lip and turning your phone around in your hand, working up the nerve to call him, summoning up the will to voice your concern if he did answer.

When you do call, you get his voicemail. Trying again, you end up with the same result. Okay. He’s not picking up his phone.

Fear foregrounds your frustration. It bleeds into your words as you leave your fifth message. One after the other, they morph from mild concern to despairing panic. As the sun dips lower and lower on the horizon and the orange sunlight dwindles, so does your desire to go out.

Because… maybe you shouldn’t go. Maybe you should search for Peter. Finding any trace of him at all would be a stretch, and Chris might be upset about you ditching your plans the next time you see him, but you can’t possibly go out knowing something may be horribly wrong with Peter.

No. No, you won’t cancel plans like that. Peter is fine. Of course, he’s fine. He’s Spider-Man. His duties as a hero come first, no matter what. And he wouldn’t want you to stress so much about him.

Wherever he is, whatever he’s doing, he is okay. He’s alive. You feel it.

Somehow, you break the trance of your pacing and convince yourself to grab a cab ride to the park. When you arrive, the festival appears to be at a content standstill. It’s not as crowded as you assumed it would be for a Saturday night. Many of the attendants, ranging from all ages, are sitting on the grass, soaking up the fading rays of the sun while the bands finish up prepping. You’re greeted by the distinctive smell of hotdog vendors intermingled with ripening leaves.

There is nothing truly scenic about Cunningham Park, aside from the interspersed trees and trails. You’d been here a handful of times when you were younger, hanging out with friends during summer break, and one thing you loved about the park back then is how the sun shone through the leaves, casting an ethereal glow on nature.

You’re more appreciative of its beauty without the sun’s effect.

It wasn’t that hard finding Chris. All you had to do was look for the person most likely garnering friends from other groups. He’s on a blanket, seated in the center of the crowd and chatting with a group of three people.

When you’re close enough to be spotted, Chris’s face mouth out into a wide smile.

“You came!” Then his eyes roamed around. “Where’s Peter?”

You try for a carefree grin but let it fall when the effort became too much. “He couldn’t make it. School stuff.”

“Oh, well, that’s fine.” His smile drops fractionally, less joyful and more sympathetic. “I’m really glad you made it. Hey, guys. This is Y/N, my friend from work.”

You wave a little and hope for a genuine smile to grace your lips as they all scoot to make room for you on the blanket.

Chris introduces them all. He points to a buff, curly-haired guy named Dez, who you wouldn’t have guessed would be the type of guy to enjoy small park festivals. He looks like the kind of person who regularly crowd-surfs at huge concerts and somehow always winds up with a VIP pass. The next person is a slender girl named Asha, who has thick black hair knotted into a messy soccer bun and a glowing smile. 

The last person Chris introduces you to is his Soulmate. You knew just by the way he said his name. Resounding. Reverent. Borderline fanatic. His name is Quint, and unlike the others, he wraps you up in a surprising hug. What’s even more surprising is you hugging back.

“Nice to finally meet you.” His voice is richly robust, exactly how you would expect someone with his Adonis-like face to sound. Two gorgeous, outgoing Soulmates just seems unfair.

“Nice to meet you, too.” You can’t help looking from Quint’s face to Chris’s, then back again, and wondering if this is what people see when they see you and Peter—a perfect match. “Chris has told me a lot about you. All great things.”

“He better,” Quint says, jokingly gazing at Chris as a blush flared across Chris’s cheeks. “And he’s told me a lot about you and Peter.”

There it goes again: people pairing you two. It’s hard not to notice how natural that sounds, as though you two were meant to be spoken about as an inseparable whole.

You brush off your startled expression as best you can and ask, “Good things, right?”

He nods, then shares a smile with Chris. “I would’ve liked to meet him.” You roughly translate that to mean, ‘I would’ve liked to meet you both.’ The blush on Chris’s face deepens into an embarrassingly bright shade of red when he catches your eye.

A plucked, low-pitched guitar string echoes out to the crowd and effectively commences the start of the music festival. You must’ve missed the band's introduction because they got right into their music, playing a melancholic pop song that sounded pretty good. You were more interested in the guitar riffs and melodic piano notes than the lyrics, but they’re no doubt about love.

Halfway into their set, your stomach growls, and you remember that you didn’t have anything to eat since you got off work. The whole thing with Peter staved off your hunger. He’s still in the front of your mind, but you’re doing your best to enjoy the night with Chris and his friends.

Standing up, you tell Chris, “I’m gonna get a hotdog.”

He tilts his chin up in acknowledgment, then goes back to swaying his head to the music.

You got up just in time to beat the line. There are only two vendors in the park, and they’d be slammed once the music hits its intermission. The one you’re at resides near the outskirts of the crowd, closest to where you left the group, and two people are in front of you.

You wish Peter were here.

Your hand touches the outline of your phone in your back pocket while you wrestle with the idea of calling him again. Maybe he’ll pick up this time.

You’re just about to unlock your phone when you hear someone calling your name—a girl.

The voice gets closer and more breathless, like they’re running at you full speed ahead and couldn’t reach you fast enough. You turn to the sound just as the body slams into you, yanking you out of line and clutching you to their frame.

“Where the hell have you been?!”

You pull away and stare straight into her face, not trusting your own eyes. “Manda?"

...

Taglist: @alexandria-euphoria​

[tocrackerboxpalace]

March, 1964

Summary: John and Paul (but mostly John) find studying their lines for A Hard Day's Night a drag. John finds other (PG?) ways to pass the time.

The air was still inside the cozy dressing room. A faint scent of cigarette smoke clung to the thick atmosphere, but not enough to ring unpleasant. John gazed at the cigarette as it dangled loosely from his fingers, and deciding against taking another drag, put it out in the ashtray beside him. He tugged at the neck of his black sweater—despite the chill of the winter air persisting outside the window, the room was quite warm. Without much thought, John lazily traced a finger along the window sill, feeling chills spread up his arm at the temperature shock.

It really looked more like an upscale office than a dressing room. Sure, there were four distinct mirrors and hairdresser chairs, as well as a rod near the doorway with an array of suits, sweaters, and trousers for the boys to rotate in and out of. But the room itself was decorated quite elegantly. A soft glow from the floor lamp mingled with the diminishing brightness of outside to coat the room in a honey-like aura. Deep red curtains framed the enormous window, grazing the velvety paisley-patterned rug that covered most area of the room. The rest of the floor was a deep hardwood, without the slightest trace of dust—an unfamiliar concept, John mused. This was much nicer than what they were used to. Immediately upon entering, he had thrown himself onto a long, floral-patterned couch by the window. Paul knew he fancied observing nature while they studied.

Paul was seated a few feet away from him, his long legs draped over the armrest as he slouched sideways over the enormous armchair. His body was facing John’s, and he could see his eyebrows knitting together in concentration as he studied his script. His lips moved wordlessly, repeating his lines to himself without speaking at all. He reached up mindlessly and tousled his hair, and John watched as the dark locks fell directly back into place. They had been sitting like this for over an hour now, and John was beginning to feel restless. He had turned his gaze to his friend once he figured he could not possibly watch the nothing going on outside the window for a second longer. Going over his script one more time was always an option, but the thought simply did not interest him. Despite being constantly begged not to do so, John figured he could improvise some lines if they fell blank on his mind. He had a quick wit, and knew that some of his lines would come off better (read: more authentic) than the portrait that the writers had painted of him. He didn’t know how Paul could concentrate for so long, especially seeing as the man had relatively few lines in the upcoming scene.

Almost as if hearing his name appear in John’s thoughts, Paul’s eyes jumped up to meet John’s. He swung his legs over the arm of the chair until he was sitting in an upright (albeit, poorly postured) position and set his script down on the quaint table between them. John pulled the ashtray a bit closer to himself, fearing the disaster that would ensue if he and Paul accidentally burned down the dressing room. They had had their fair share of slightly arsonist run-ins in their youth, and John was too tired to deal with the legal ramifications of an incident like that again.

Paul sighed loudly, bringing John back to present. He hoped this was a sign of his friend’s boredom and restlessness, so he could stop pretending like he was studying his own script. The younger man leaned forward and put his head in his hands, letting out a strained groan as he rubbed his eyes.

“I don’t think I can take any more of this studying, mate,” Paul muttered. “I close my eyes and all I see is ‘No, actually, we’re just good friends’. Why do I have to say that, like, a dozen times? It’s only hardly clever.”

“Quite the realistic portrait, then,” John replied lazily, a smile twitching at the corner of his lips when Paul shot him an irritated glance. “I’m bored. Let’s do something.”

Paul checked his wristwatch. “When do you think they’ll be back? I thought Ringo was just going to wander about the town. How long could that filming possibly take? It’s not even scripted. Plus, he’s got that massive hangover. I figured they’d be back around by now.”

John shrugged. George had gone along with Ringo to provide some moral support for the dreaded scene (every scene was dreaded for Ringo today, as Paul was right—he was sporting a massive hangover), leaving Paul and John behind to study for their next appearance. For Paul, it was out of necessity; the poor lad struggled with keeping up with his lines, a fact that made him irritated and anxious. Paul typically wasn’t poor at things. For John, the desertion was more punishment for disappearing on set the day before to explore the city a bit. He didn’t mind, though. It could be worse; Paul could have left him as well. At least he had some company.

“We could go to the pub we passed yesterday,” John observed. “I could use a quick drink. Or two.”

Paul frowned, but John could see him shake his head in slight amusement at his friend’s remarks. “No, we won’t be doing that. Could you imagine how much trouble you’d be in with Brian if you disappeared again? To drink, no less? Sometimes I don’t know what goes on in your daft mind.”

John chuckled at that. He quite enjoyed teasing his friend, pushing forth this Teddy-boy persona that he sported when they first met seven years prior. Though he had no intention of actually going to get drunk in the middle of a work day, he knew that the boy wouldn’t tell the difference. He was aware that his behavior gave Paul a bit of a superiority complex, the feeling of being “the good one”, and the thought of that amused him. The public had yet to see how mischievous Paul McCartney actually was, his puppy dog eyes betraying him at every turn.

Of course, John was one of the few people that saw past Paul’s angelic front. The times they’d shared together had proved that even Brian and George Martin were fooled, as John often fell victim to blame for things that Paul had done. He didn’t quite mind the dynamic, though. He was hardly in real trouble, and it felt nice to have a part of Paul that the others didn’t. He was so hard to read at first, so hard to get close to. The intimacy was welcome to John, in a comforting, familial way.

“What shall we do then?” John mused. He huffed as he struggled to pull himself into an upright position, his joints popping at the sudden movement after being a puddle of nothing for so long. “Go for a smoke? Go for a stroll? Go fetch a bird?” He winked at the last suggestion as heat rose into Paul’s cheeks. Last night, John had also unintentionally taken the blame for a girl that Paul had snuck into the dressing room. Paul had been mortified and profusely thanked him, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t have a little fun with the knowledge.

“Actually,” Paul replied, rubbing his temples, “I’m quite exhausted. Might have a go at a nap.”

“Paul,” John whined, feigned desperation in his voice, “You can’t. I’m so bored. If you leave, I’ll have nothing.”

“Oh, all right,” the boy sighed. “Then you think of something to do. My mind is strained. And,” he jumped, as John opened his mouth to say something, “we’re not going out. I feel like I’m responsible for you right now. Don’t make me put you in time out.” Paul slouched back as the chair engulfed his figure and closed his eyes, humming softly to himself as he let fatigue overtake him.

John’s stomach flipped Paul’s words, though he almost cocked an eyebrow at the absurdity of the feeling. He quickly shook it off, feeling sure it was nothing more than the delight of knowing he could pester Paul endlessly, now that he was aware how Paul felt of the situation. If he was John’s babysitter, then John would act… well, like a child.

John stretched his legs just far enough as to where he could kick the other man’s foot. Paul half-lidded eyes looked up at him with a slightly annoyed expression, but he was met only with the amusement that twinkled in John’s. This seemed to irritate him further, not feeling at all in the mood for physical banter. So John kicked him again.

Paul’s eyes flew open. “Christ, lad, would you knock it off? I’m not in the mood. If you won’t let me leave, at least let me rest here.”

“But I’m bored,” John whined again. “I want to do something.”

“Look over your script,” Paul muttered as he turned his back on him, shifting to curl up into the armchair. “I don’t want to have to deal with you going on about fish and finger pies again next take. I have enough to worry about with my own lines.”

“You don’t own me, Paul,” John shot back. “You’re not in charge.”

“I bloody might as well be,” came the muffled voice that now felt far away.

John fell back on the couch himself, defeated. He gazed out the window again, eyes following an adorable little bird that hopped from tree limb to tree limb. He felt for that bird, or rather, he felt the need to be that bird, happily hopping on without a care in the world. It was so simple and innocent. He wanted to reach his hand through the glass and stroke the little bird, with its enchantingly dark feathers. To John, it looked like midnight, when the sky was still and the world was quiet and there was nothing but yourself and the atmosphere, high above you. Was it a blackbird? A crow, maybe? Its tiny black eyes were empty, devoid of emotion, but not threatening or eerie. Just… there. Being. Existing. It lived only to live, not to please, or love, or conquer. Oh, to be the little bird.

John continued to marvel at it for a few more moments before it fluttered out of sight. He was left with nothing again, his mind grasping at something else to attend to. The script fell out of his hands onto the floor with a thick thud, making Paul twitch in his barely-there state of consciousness.

Paul! A wonderful thing to capture his attention. John nudged his foot against the chair, hoping to shift it just slightly. When that didn’t work, he pushed a bit harder, sending a croaking sound through the room as the chair leg slipped off the rug and onto the hardwood.

“Piss off, Lennon,” Paul growled, his voice thick with the beginnings of sleep. But John couldn’t let him drift asleep. He would be so dreadfully bored.

John got to his knees on the couch, facing Paul’s chair. He gently pushed the stand with the ashtray and Paul’s script out of the way, and leaned forward, interlacing his fingers on the arm of the couch and resting his chin atop them. He could see Paul’s side rising and falling rhythmically, the stiff fabric of his dress shirt crinkling with every inhale. He hadn’t changed out from earlier, and was still wearing the pressed white button down, black tie, and black trousers. The only thing he had removed was his suit jacket, which lay draped across the back of the chair. John assumed Paul had noticed the warm thickness of the air in the room as well.

Paul’s side stared back at him, open and inviting. He knew exactly what to do, to piss Paul off to the perfect degree while also keeping up the good spirits. He removed a hand from under his chin and stretched ever so slightly before jamming two fingers—hard—into Paul’s soft side.

Paul yelped in surprise and jerked awake and alert, trying to comprehend what had just happened. John watched him smugly as his brow furrowed in confusion, then annoyance. “For fuck’s sake, John, is it so hard to keep your hands to yourself? You’re a child.”

John said nothing, just watched in anticipation as Paul turned away again, muttering something under his breath. He was cranky now, and John wanted to push his limits. He had nothing better to do, anyway. He tentatively reached back over and, in one swift movement, pinched Paul’s side again and retreated into the far side of the couch.

Paul swung blindly, nearly missing contact with John’s extended forearm as he jumped back. John suppressed a giddy grin, knowing that he had succeeded in his mission. Paul was now wide awake and visibly frustrated, taking a moment to rub his tender side while muttering a string of unflattering curses.

“You wanker,” he shot at John, his eyes burning as he massaged his sore spot. Paul knew that John knew that’s where his weak spot was, his ticklish spot. He was only lucky that John had poked and pinched instead of lightly grazing and prodding. They shared a look, both of them well aware of that fact. John couldn’t help but cock a knowing eyebrow at him, as if to say, I could if I wanted to.

Suddenly, Paul’s eyes darkened. John’s breath caught in his throat as he watched a mischievous glint overtake Paul’s gaze. He watched Paul’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, running his tongue between his lips in anticipation. John wasn’t sure what the transformation was, but it couldn’t be good. He felt in a moment that he had lost control of the situation. He opened his mouth to speak, willing himself to come up with something spectacularly witty, until—

Paul had lurched on top of him in a matter of seconds, digging his fingers into John’s sides. John initially gasped as ticklish tremors ran through his body, the sounds of pure, unfiltered laughter soon filling the air. John twisted under Paul’s iron grip as tears began to spring to his eyes from the hysteria, gasping for breath and unable to keep himself from breaking into a fit of giggles every few seconds. He weakly attempted to reach up and grasp at Paul’s weak spots, trying to give himself the edge again, but Paul caught his wrist with one hand, pinning the other down with his knee. “Uh uh uh,” he chastised, pushing John’s wrist into the couch and underneath his other knee. He was straddling him on the couch, his knees trapping John’s hands at his sides while Paul’s hands were free to mercilessly attack John’s sides, stomach, and neck.

“P-please,” he wheezed, as Paul chuckled lightheartedly above him. “Please stop, I- I can’t breathe—”

“You asked for this,” Paul retorted, not ceasing the torturous movements. His tone was light and amused, sounding as though he found himself greatly enamored with the visual of John writhing helplessly beneath him. “Next time, keep your bloody hands to yourself.”

“I will, I will,” John gasped, a tear rolling down his cheek. Slowly, Paul ceased his assault, and rocked back on his heels, letting John’s hands free. He watched as the man caught his breath beneath him, reaching up to wipe away a tear that had fallen in the hysteria. “That was not funny,” John asserted in a mock-serious tone, secretly hoping that Paul would go at it again.

The thought pulled a frown to his face as he contemplated what had just popped into his head. He was “secretly hoping Paul would do that again”? Why? Why did he feel the need to keep it a secret? Why had Paul’s devilish fingers made John’s skin feel so… electric, and tingly? And most importantly, why was he now acutely aware that the man was sitting on John’s lap?

Paul let out an airy laugh and raised himself up off the sofa. John breathed a sigh of relief, concerned over the thoughts that spilled into his head. What the fuck was going on? This was Paul. He enjoyed spending time with him, teasing him, messing with him, pissing him off and making him laugh. Paul, his bandmate. His best friend. His suddenly strangely entrancing best—

Shut up, John begged his mind. He didn’t want to follow himself down a rabbit hole of that sort.

Paul was making his way back to the armchair. He plopped into it, looking as though he was the one who had just been tickled to death. He looked at John with a grin of satisfaction and power, and John knew that the man was about to go for a nap again knowing that John wouldn’t mess with him in that way again.

He liked to prove Paul wrong.

As soon as Paul’s eyes fluttered closed once more, and his breathing became steadier and deeper, John formulated another plan. One that, this time, he would surely be in control of. He watched Paul’s chest rise and fall for a few minutes, waiting for his eyelashes to stop twitching, willing the man to fall just enough asleep to where he would be slightly delirious upon a quick awakening. That way, he couldn’t catch John with surprise force as he executed the first step of his plan.

John waited the tiniest bit longer, until he was sure that his friend wasn’t just pretending, and went for it. In a quick movement, John jumped up and pulled at Paul’s wrists, thrusting him onto the floor forcefully but not painfully. The man blinked wildly as John held both his wrists over his head with one hand and began to aggressively tickle Paul’s exposed armpits. He jerked away from John’s touch, still in a faint haze about what was happening, before he began to come to his senses and bite back a cry of laughter. John knew that Paul was far more ticklish than he, and that the quick prodding and nudging wouldn’t drive him nearly as crazy as light, barely-there touches.

He began to cry out on the floor beside John, who was lying on his side, holding Paul’s hands with one arm and attacking him with the other. “Jesus, John, you bastard,” he wheezed, trying to force himself up but unable to do so. His wrists strained against John’s grip.

This struggle continued for a few more minutes, before John’s own stomach hurt from laughing so much. He released his friend and collapsed on the rug beside him, both of their laughter dying out softly as they caught their breath. A silence of about five minutes ensued, neither speaking but both acknowledging the comforting warmth of their shoulders pressed against one other.

After a long recovery, Paul tentatively lifted a leg and crossed it over, placing it in between John’s. Shooting his friend an inquisitive glance—not that this intertwining or personal touch was a strange posture for them, as they had had countless sleepovers in John’s far-too-tiny bed in his Mimi’s home growing up—John nudged Paul’s foot with his own to encourage him to speak what was on his mind.

“Thank you,” Paul said, the tint of laughter still coloring his voice.

“For what?” John replied noncommittedly. He kept his eyes on the ceiling, which was a rather putrid tile, almost like the ceilings in grade school—something that was jarring against the rather royal layout of the rest of the room. He trained his gaze on a particular patch of water damage shaped a bit like the bird he had watched earlier, through the window.

“I know you could have done worse in that little fight,” Paul mused. “I think I would have peed me self. Or died. Whichever came first.”

John hummed in response, now aware that the little leg movement was almost a thank you in and of itself. That simple search for physical contact, a gesture of appreciation, made John’s heart swell. He liked feeling appreciated. It was almost as if John was a girl, and Paul had reached down to interlace their fingers together and offer a quick squeeze, but John wasn’t a girl and instead Paul had thoughtlessly interlaced their legs. It was a nice feeling, one that spread warmth across John’s chest. As much as he wore Paul down, he was so thankful for him. It was a genuine admiration and appreciation (that he hoped was mutual), an experience that was rather foreign to him throughout life so far. He supposed much of that was brought on by himself—if he hadn’t been such a naughty child in school, if he’d been a bit better behaved for his parents, if he hadn’t been such a dick to the girlfriends he’d had. But with Paul, things were different. There were no expectations of being a son, a pupil, a lover. They could just be. Just like the bird.

John smiled to himself at the thought.

[exodusmc]

“Please stop moving so much..”

Genre: Smut(not too explicit)

Words: 1963

Paring: Sehun  x   Reader

Warning!: Mentions of horror movies and scens(nothing major), public dry humping, very light pet naming and dirty talk, swearing, 

a/n: This one was requested :)

Gif is not mine 

“Come on Y/n!”Chanyeol’s voice was loud over the phone and had always been, ever since you met a few months ago. 

He was in one of your classes and he laughed the loudest out of everyone but he was a good guy, it wasn't hard to get to know him when you had a group project. You two clicked and he was like a brother to you, annoying and nice. Happy virus Chanyeol who moved a little too quick, figurative and literally. You can't count on one hand how many times you seen him trip over air, but he also thought it was a good idea to introduce you to all his friends when you’d known him for about three weeks. 

It had been Sehun first, his roommate, a boy built like a skysharpe with wide shoulders and the deepest eyes you had seen. He was your age and the youngest out of them all. Maybe you had a teeny tiny crush on him, a crush you blamed on his god like features. 

“I promise they want you to come and you have already met everyone, so I don't see why you are hesitant!”Chanyeol and his friends had a movie night every Sunday and he had begged you to come for the last two times, the only times you actually were glad you had work. 

“I know, I know…”biting your lip, you knew you couldn't lie to him or he would send you the biggest puppy eyes and whine for about a month.”Fine, I’ll come..But who is picking the movie?”

“Yes!”you couldn't help at smile at his excitement, a dreading feeling creeping over your spine.”Jongin is...so expect a horror movie, by now!”

Just great..

-

Arriving at his apartment, you wondered if you overdressed or if you stank or if you had something between your teeth or if you should have brought something or if-

The door opened and your thoughts stopped, nothing was in your head, not even a cricket. Just empty..

“Oh, hi..”Sehun stood in the door, his hair pitch black and nothing like the orange you remember seeing on him when you first met him over four months ago.  

Back then had it been short and colored like an orange but now was it long, so long that it fell down to his eyes, and black, so very black.

He moved from the doorway, showing you that you could come in and damn were you feeling your face slowly burning off. You had stared at him for far too long, ogled at the perfection of his face. 

“A-ah, hello to you too..”taking of your shoes you wondered if your horrible gut feeling was telling you to run away or if you were just ill.”I like your hair..”

“Thanks..”Sehun smiled slightly, a twitch on his right upper lip which told you that he was not so comfortable.”I like your li-..hairpin..”

You couldn't marvel too long at what he was about to say since the thundering steppes of Chanyeol shook the ground and you.

“Y/n! You made it!” Sehun was pushed to the side as Chanyeol whisked you away the second your shoes landed on the floor.”See, I told you she would come!”

Waving slightly, you stared back at everyone, mouth feeling way too dry. This friend group had always made you a little confused since it doesn't seem likely that half of them would actually be friends but you guessed that was what made them so close.

“Yes yes, we see now come sit down so we can start the movie!”Jongin grinned to you, like he always did  but you thought you saw something else, a glimpse of mischief that made you sweat. Something was going on,  something everyone else knew.”Hurry hurry.”

The lights were already off but as you glanced around the room did you realize there was a small problem, a tiny problem that weren't actually a problem but still. 

All the seats were occupied, Chanyeol literally squeezed himself between Jongdae and Baekhyun on the sofa, while Kyungsoo and Jongin shared the slightly smaller one. Junmyeon, Minseok and Yixing sat on the floor, while Sehun occupied the last chair.

You had nowhere to sit, all the floor spaces were taken if one wanted to see the Tv. Panic spread through your system and you scolded yourself for not listening to your gut. 

“You can sit with Sehun..”Chanyeol smiled, rolling his eyes after.”He always takes the chair so everyone else has to sit on the floor..”

“I don't!” the younger whined, glancing at you for a second. He doesn't want to share the chair with you...You should have stayed home. 

“Just go sit down Y/n so we can start!”Jongin once again usered everyone to settle down, so with defeat were you making you way to Sehun.

The sofa chair may be big but it wasn't big enough for two people and you contemplated running away when you locked eyes with Sehun. They were so dark but glowed due to the Tv and god had you just stared at his thighs as well. 

You tried smiling slightly, standing still until Chanyeol kicked you from the sofa so you fell right on Sehun. Everyone laughed loudly while you face was bruied against his chest, never feeling the hammering of his heart since yours were flying away. This is going to be a long night.

   The movie was playing and took away most of the tension with sitting on Sehun’s lap but you weren't sure if you liked looking at the screen. 

Jongin’s choice was the silence of the lambs and you hated horror movies, feeling like your soul could jump out your body any second. Everytime Hannibal spoke were you waiting for something to go awfully wrong. And suddenly was he just biting of a cops face, which had you, Chanyeol and Baekhyun screaming. 

You pushed yourself back, face turning until you could press your forehead towards Sehun’s neck, closing your eyes. Your breath fanned across his collarbones and you didn't know it but you had been squirming the whole time on his lap, so Sehun had a hard time concentrating on the film at all. Those fuckers knew exactly what they were doing, making you sit on his lap while they watched horror movies. 

“Are you okay?”Sehun sounded like he was in pain but you were sitting on his things so you guessed he had every right to be. 

“Y-yeah..”glancing up, you managed to get caught in those eyes again.”I’m fine thanks..”

He smiled for a second, gaze finding your lips. They looked too soft and tempting, alluring without you trying. 

   “I need water..”standing up on slightly shaking legs, you stumbled to the kitchen, trying to not think about the movie. 

It left Sehun glaring at each and everyone of his friends, frown pulling down his mouth. They knew about his crush since Chanyeol couldn't keep a secret for his life and still forced him through this situation. 

“Fuckers..”he muttered but his face brightened up when you came back, eyes slightly in a haze. Everything would be fine as long as you wouldn't feel the boner he had.

“Now it’s time for Annabelle!”your eyes widened, hands becoming clammy at the thought. You hated dolls with every fiber in your body and the wanted to watch a movie about them!

Sitting down on Sehun’s lap again, you didn't even want to face the Tv, shamelessly turning your body so you could easily hide. He was warm and the only thing you had in the moment. It’s going to be okay, the sentence repeated in your head over and over again as the film started, adrenaline racing through your system.

You didn't really know Jongin that well but  sure as hell would you beat him for making you watch these movies, softly muttering to yourself a promise of hurt, which was extremely cute to Sehun.

An hour in and you were sitting facing the Tv, eyes locked on the screen as the music became more and more ominous. You leaned forward as Mia’s hand reaches for the window and then you screamed, making Baekhyun and Chanyeol shriek as well. 

Your back pressed against Sehun but this time did he let out a groan and that’s when you felt it, the tent he had in his pants. Gasping, you tensed, forgetting the movie completely and drowning out the chatter of the others.

“P-please stop moving so much..”his whisper was strained in your ear, igniting fire through your body all the way to your core. Sehun’s hands came to rest on your hips, holding you but not sure in what way.”So-sorry..”

He muttered while you felt your cheeks heat up. Your mind wasn't paying attention to the film anymore but to the feeling of his jeans covered things, the fact that you wore thin pants didn't help at all. 

“It’s okay..”your voice was low and innocent, however, your thoughts muddled into differents scenarios which had you screaming in another way.

You actions weren't nice to him but your body had a mind of its own, ignoring all logic and how you were not alone. 

Moving your hips ever so lightly, you turned so you faced him, not looking in his eyes. This was it, you were too horny and didn't want to see Annabelle anymore. Leaning in, you placed your head between his neck and shoulder, legs on either side of his while your knees rested on the chair cushion. 

“I don't mind Sehun..”he swallowed hard, hearing the change in your voice, your lips ghosting over his pulse point.”I...I like it..”

It was like a switch flipped inside his head, fingers digging into your skin while he started to move you across his thighs. Sehun nudged his head so you had to look at his eyes, stare right into cloudy and fiery orbs. A mere inch was left between the two of you and you wanted to kiss him, push your lips against his skin but just sat there, grinding on his lap as your breath came out in pants. 

“Dirty dirty girl..”you tried to ignore the heat his voice spread through you, how the smirk dancing across his mouth made you want to jump him right then and there”Moving your hips so greedy over my thighs..Does it feel nice, hmm?”

Sehun forced you down harder and the denim rubbed against you aching pussy. The tv let out a scream in the exact second you moan softly, covering the sound so no one else heard, no on but Sehun. He was also greedy, greedy for the expression on your face, the pretty gasps from your lips. It was hard containing himself, surrounded by his unsuspecting friends. While you were on the brink of cumming did the end titles start playing and the lights turned on, giving Sehun the chance to see your burning face. Your body was tingling, desperate for release but you couldn't hid there anymore and  you didn't know if you could ask him to go home with you. Another smirk spread all over his face and even if it was late, would he not let you go. 

“I really hate when Jongin gets to choose the movies..”Chanyeol whine as everyone made their way out of the room. He sent a glance over his shoulder, seeing the two of you.”I have somethings I need to do with Kyungsoo so I’ll stay at his place. Night night.”

With that were you and Sehun alone, all alone.

“Now why don't we continue, baby?”

[temilyrights]

a christmas to remember

Summary: Jack Sloane x Reader. Jack invites you to join her for Christmas after you miss your flight home.

A/N: It’s done. It’s finally done. I don’t think I’ve ever been so stressed out trying to get a fic done. I’ve been feeling pretty rough mentally the last month so writing pure fluff was difficult ahaha. You can all thank @strongsassysexysloane​ for the idea! She’s the one that sent it to me. Sorry it’s a little late but I did manage to get it out before new years so I guess that’s something. 

Read on AO3

It’s nearing seven o’clock when Jack finishes packing up for the day. Usually, she’d consider that early, but it was Christmas Eve and she’d spent the whole day drowning in paperwork. Last-minute evals for cases and finishing up the yearly NCIS staff review meant she was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go home and soak in the tub with a glass of wine. She knew Gibbs’ team had closed their case around midday so when she descends the stairs to leave, she’s surprised to see you still at your desk.

She almost misses you. You’re slumped over, head resting on your desk and from the looks of it, you had been asleep for a while. The desk lamp was still on, and a YouTube video was playing from the computer. The case the last few days had been exhausting so she’s not surprised you’re knackered, but she was sure you were meant to be on your way home to see your family.

She stands there for a period of time that should probably be considered creepy, watching your soft mumbles and enjoying the rare sight of you looking so peaceful. She smiles to herself, and then quietly speaks your name, “Y/N.” No response. She gently shakes your arm, “Y/N. It’s time to wake up.”

“Go away,” You mumble, barely conscious.

Jack laughs, and softly strokes your hair, “Come on sleepy head.”

“Breakfast later. I promise.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.” She smirks and steps back. There was an easy way to get you up. “You’re going to be late for work.”

It does the trick. You practically shoot up in your chair. Jack grasps your elbow to steady you as you manically look around the room and catch your bearings. “Huh? What?” Understanding settles in a moment later and a light blush coats your cheeks. “Oh.”

Jack drops your elbow and steps back, chuckling, “I thought I probably shouldn’t leave you to sleep here the entire night.”

“Thanks.” You mumble, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It was a long case.” She nods in understanding. Jack hadn’t been involved much apart from a couple of evals, but she’d seen how worn down it had left the whole team. She’d been so swamped with her own work she hadn’t had time to check in on anyone. “I thought the team left around lunchtime?”

“They did. I had paperwork to finish.” You shrug and begin packing away your things.

Jack pointedly looks to the paused YouTube video on your computer that definitely wasn’t related to work. “Aren’t you meant to be going to see your family?”

Your face drops, “I missed the flight. Next one out isn’t until the 26th.”

Jack’s sighs, and squeezes your hand, “Oh, Y/N, I’m sorry.” You had been talking about going home all month. You’d told her in detail about the L/N’s family Christmas traditions. She hated the idea you were going to miss out on so much.

“It’s why I’m still here. Didn’t really feel like going home.”

“You could have come and visited me. You know my doors always open to you.” She shakes your hand slightly before letting go.

“I thought you’d already left to be honest.”

“I wish.” She rolls her eyes, “I wanted to get the staff review done.”

You quirk a brow, smirking, “Did I pass?”

She huffs, eyes light with humour, “With flying colours. Apparently, it’s not appropriate to fail someone on account of them being an absolute pain in the ass.”

“Hmm, good thing really, otherwise Gibbs would have been fired years ago.”

You jump out the way before Jack can swat you on the arm. Both of you dissolve into laughter.

“So, what are your plans for tomorrow then?” Jack asks after you’ve calmed down and are making your way to the elevator.

You shrug, “Don’t have any. I’ll just celebrate on the 26th.”

She comes to a halt in disbelief, “You’re not going to go anything?”

“Watch a Christmas film and catch up on all the chores I’ve been neglecting I guess.”

“Nuh-uh. There’s no way you’re spending Christmas day doing chores! Come spend the day with me instead.”

Your mouth drops open, “W-what? I couldn’t-”

“Apart from baking cookies, I don’t have any plans for the daytime. I’m going to Faith’s for dinner, but we can still spend the morning together.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not intruding. In fact, I'm actually insisting.”

“Jack…”

“Come on, it’ll be fun. Unless you’d rather spend the day being miserable?”

A small smile spreads across your face, and you nod. “Okay.”

“Okay!” Jack grins, jumping on the balls of her feet. “Be at mine at 0800 hours with the breakfast you promised me.” She winks, and steps forward, hitting the button for the elevator.

“Breakfast?” You frown, “When did I promise you breakfast?”

----

“Merry Christmas, Jack!” You grin as she opens her front door.

“Cute hat.” She laughs, stepping back to allow you to enter. She makes sure to flick the white pom-pom on the end of the Santa hat as you pass.

“Thanks.” Jack accepts the bag of diner food, while you take your coat and shoes off. “Sorry, I’m a little late. The diner was busier than I expected. Elaine told me to tell you ‘Merry Christmas’ by the way. I can’t believe you’ve been here the shortest time out of everyone, bar Kasie, and yet somehow you’re her favourite.”

Jack laughs as she makes her way to the kitchen where she already has plates laid out. She begins to dish up the food as you take a seat.  “Not my fault I’m a people person, and anyway Gibbs is her favourite.”

You roll your eyes, “True but second place is bloody impressive considering he’s been around over twenty years and you’ve only been here three.”

Jack hums and takes the seat next to you. “You can just admit you’re jealous.”

“I’m not hiding that fact. I’ve been here for seven years and you don’t see me getting free food.”

“Free?”

“‘Christmas with Jacqueline? How sweet. Coffee's on the house.’” You mimic, taking a sip of said drink.

“So, you got free coffee too?”

You huff, “That’s not the point I’m making.”

Jack laughs, “But it’s the point you made. And anyway, she likes you. She always makes a point to ask me how you’re doing whenever I go in there.”

“And she always asks me about you.” You smile softly and Jack’s heart thumps in her chest.

She clears her throat, dropping her eyes to her food. “Let’s eat. We can spend the rest of the day squabbling over who Elaine likes best if you want but for now, I really want this bacon in my belly before it gets cold.”

You laugh and begin to dig into your own food.

After breakfast is finished and cleared away, you goad Jack into a game of cards. You’re always so cocky and competitive when it comes to games, so she spends the whole time teasing you and trying not to laugh at your serious concentration.

What makes it worse is that she always wins, but it’s not her fault you were ridiculously easy to read. Honestly, for an agent your poker face was terrible.

“Now I've whipped your ass, can we go make cookies?”

“Are you gonna cheat at that too?” You snark as you clean up the cards.

Jack arches a brow as humour dances in her eyes, “Someone’s a sore loser.”

“I’m not a-”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” She leaves you cleaning up and makes her way to the kitchen, ignoring the daggers you were glaring into her back.

----

“Jack?” You call. She hums but doesn’t turn around, too focused on measuring out the ingredients in front of her. She feels you come up behind her, face poking over her shoulder.

“Can I help you?” She chuckles and places the bag of sugar back down. Her breath catches when she turns to look at you. You’re so close, and Jack watches as your eyelashes flutter and can’t help the way her eyes momentarily fall to your lips. She jumps when suddenly you flick flour in her face. She coughs, “What the hell, Y/N!”

You dissolve into laughter, stumbling backwards, and Jack rolls her eyes and wipes the flour from her face. She grabs the bag of flour from the counter before turning to face you with a raised brow, “Oh, you wanna play huh?”

Your face drops, as she saunters over with a devilish smirk. “You wouldn’t dare.” You shake your head, leaning against the wall.

“Try me.” She grabs a pinch of flour and before you can move, flicks it at you.

“Satisfied?” You laugh, wiping it from your cheeks.

“Not even close.” She lifts the flour bag higher and you quickly run out of the way screaming.

“Don’t you dare! You’ll ruin my jumper.”

She wouldn’t but it was fun to make you think so solely to see the panic crossing your face. Although, it would also be a good way of getting you out of your clothes. Jacqueline. She curses herself.

“Fine, but just know this isn’t the end.” She says with a playful glare. You sigh in relief, shoulders slumping slightly as Jack returns the flour to the counter. “Now do you fancy helping me with these cookies?”

You murmur something Jack doesn’t quite catch, and she looks to you with a frown, “What was that?”

“Nothing!” You grin innocently, quickly making your way to the counter, “What can I do to help?”

She stares at you for a moment but decides not to push further. “How about you start mixing everything together while I measure out the remaining ingredients.”

“Yes, boss.” You nod, mock saluting.

Jack flicks flour at you again.

----

“Sorry about that,” Jack says as she enters the living room, returning to her seat next to you on the couch.

You quickly swallow down a mouthful of cookie. Jack refrains from commenting on the fact you’d managed to eat half the plate in the space of a ten-minute phone call. “Is Faith okay?”

The soft smile that always lights up Jack’s face whenever Faith is mentioned appears, “Yes, she was just asking if I could pick some carrots up for this evening. She forgot to get some, and between the hospital and the pregnancy everything has been a little manic.”

“I can only imagine.” You hum.

“She’s also invited you to join us tonight.”

Your face drops in surprise, “What? Really? Why?”

“She said no one should be alone on Christmas, and I agree so please come.”

You chuckle, “I’ve spent the whole day with you. I’m not alone. Anyway, I don’t want to intrude on your time with Faith.”

Jack reaches out and squeezes your hand. “Her fiancé, Andrew, will be there too. It’ll be fun, and you’ll finally get the chance to meet her.” It makes her nervous as hell, but god did she want the two of you to meet each other. You still look uncertain, so her face softens, and she squeezes your hand again, “Please? It would mean a lot to me if you came.”

“You’re sure?”

She nods.

“Okay then.” You agree as your face breaks out into a grin.

Jack grins back and squeezes your hand one last time before letting go. “Yay!”

You chuckle, nodding your head towards the television, “Can we get back to the movie now?”

“Yes.” She sinks back into the couch and grabs the blanket you were currently using, to cover her legs.

“Hey, don’t steal it all.” You protest, already moving closer so the blanket was covering you too.

And, well, if she ends up drifting off at some point, snuggling into your shoulder...neither one of you comment on it.

----

She wasn’t really sure what she’d expected when Faith had invited you to join tonight, but she knows it wasn’t this. She hadn’t dared let herself hope for this…

Because you fit in perfectly. Jack watched as you told Andrew about a case from the other month, he was hanging off every word while Faith tried not to laugh at her fiancé’s expression, instead shooting Jack an affectionate eye-roll from where she sits opposite her.

“So, then Nick comes storming in ready to kick some ass and I’ve already got the three guys on the floor and handcuffed.”

“On your own?” Andrew asks in wonder.

“Well, I mean Gibbs was there too but that’s beside the point.” You huff. Everyone starts laughing. You laugh along too and pick up your wine glass to take a sip.

“This is delicious by the way.” Jack hums, taking another bite of food. Faith and Andrew had made enough food to supply a small army. She had no idea how they’d managed it, especially considering their small kitchen.

“Best Christmas dinner I've had in a long time.” You nod along, as Faith’s cheeks tinge pink from the praise and Andrew smiles brightly.

She chuckles bashfully, “Thank you. It was nothing, really.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, babe. You put in a lot of work for today.” Andrew says, squeezing Faith’s hand from where he sat beside her.

Jack turns to you and is surprised to find you already watching her with a soft smile. Jack frowns slightly, “You okay?” She asks quietly as Faith and Andrew continue talking to each other.

You nod, “I’m good. Great actually. Thank you for letting me join today.”

Her face softens, and she reaches over and gently squeezes your knee, “Thank you for coming. I couldn’t choose a better group of people to share the day with.” 

A light blush covers your cheeks and you quickly duck your head in an attempt to hide it, but Jack catches it. The sight makes her smile more, and she squeezes your knee one more time before letting go and returning to her meal.

After dinner, there’s more wine and a game of charades. Turns out Andrew is amazing, even with alcohol in his system. He and Faith guess the majority of each other’s charades within a minute. Meaning it’s mainly the two of them going back and forth while Jack and you sit on the couch and try to keep up.

“I feel we are at a disadvantage here.” You huff.

“Definitely.” Jack laughs.

“Are you guys ready?” Faith asks as she grabs a piece of paper out of the bowl. She reads the paper, a small smile spreading across her face as she shoves it into her cardigan pocket. “Okay.”

She holds up seven fingers and you and Andrew both instantly shoot up from the couch, shouting in unison, “The lion, the witch, and the wardrobe!”

Faith’s mouth drops open in disbelief, “Yes, but how?”

The competitive glint is back in your eye and Andrew instantly backs away, hands up in surrender, “You can have the go. I’m not arguing with a woman who has a gun.”

“Don’t worry Andrew, she’s all bark and no bite,” Jack smirks. Faith starts laughing as she returns to the lounge chair.

You arch a brow, turning back to face her. “I can bite if you want me to.”

Jack rolls her eyes and takes another sip of wine in hopes that no one will notice the slight pink tinge to her cheeks.

Andrew laughs. “I’m currently in a room with three women that could kill me if they were so inclined, I think I’m going to let you take this one.” He hands you the bowl of paper and moves to take the seat next to Jack.

“Suddenly rethinking your career choice, dear?” Faith laughs.

“Oh no.” He shakes his head, “I’m very happy spending my days counting numbers, thank you very much.”

Jack smothers a laugh when she sees your face scrunch up like it always did when someone mentioned maths. “Andrew, I think you should give Y/N a maths lesson.” She teases. Your head instantly snaps to her, and you send a glare so icy she’s surprised she isn’t frozen in place.

“Oh, I’d happily do that if-”

“No, no, no. Thank you, Andy, but that’s definitely not necessary.” You quickly cut him off.

Andrew chuckles, and nods. “Fair enough. And Jack?”

She hums.

“How many more times do I have to tell you to please call me Andy? Or should I start calling you Jacqueline?”

She laughs and dips her head. “Right, sorry. Andy.” When she looks back up, you’re watching her with twinkling eyes. Jack clears her throat, “Back to charades?”  

----

“Again, thank you so much for inviting us tonight. It’s been amazing.” Jack says as she slips her coat back on.

Faith smiles warmly, “I’m really glad you came, and it was nice to finally meet Y/N.” They both turn to look at you, still excitedly talking to Andrew. “You should bring her with you the next time we do something.”

Jack’s brows raise in shock as she turns back to look at Faith, who’s smirking knowingly. “Really?”

“Yeah. I feel Andy’s probably got another fifty questions he wants to ask about what it’s like being an agent.”

Jack cackles at that, earning her the attention of you.

“What’s so funny?” You ask, coming up to stand beside her, lightly bumping into her side.

“Oh, nothing.” Jack hums innocently. Your eyes narrow and a playful smirk tugs at your lips. Instead of pushing further, you turn to Faith.

“Thank you for including me in your Christmas.”

“It was great to finally meet you.”

“And you. And Andy.” You say, smiling at him as he wraps an arm around Faith’s waist.

“Are you sure we can’t order you a cab?”

You shake your head, grinning, “Nope, It’s all good.”

Jack still doesn’t know why you aren’t. She lived at least a twenty-minute drive away, which meant probably over an hour's walk and there was no way the two of you were doing that this late at night, with alcohol in your system, and when there was a fresh layer of snow outside.

She follows your lead though and links your arms together as you wave goodbye to Faith and Andrew and make your way down their driveway.

“Care to inform me where we are going yet?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” You tease.

Jack shakes her head with a small chuckle and leans in closer to you to protect herself from the frosty air. She’s incredibly grateful she’d been smart enough to remember her gloves, hat, and scarf.

The two of you walk in comfortable silence for a while, enjoying the crunch of the snow beneath your feet, and taking in the stars in the sky. You grow tenser as you walk, Jack’s concerned something is wrong until she turns to look at you and finds you grinning.

She’s curious, but ten minutes later her curiosity is answered when you turn onto a street that instantly causes Jack to come to a halt. “Oh wow.” She sighs in wonder. Every house on the street is decorated in bright Christmas lights. It’s breathtaking.

You turn to her with a bright smile, shrugging lightly, “I know you love Christmas lights, and I just wanted to say thank you for today. It has meant everything to me.”

Her eyes flick from the lights to you. She squeezes your hand tightly and resists the overwhelming urge to pull you in for a kiss. “You, Y/N L/N, are an astonishing human being. I…” She trails off, eyes flicking between the lights and you as emotions swirl in her throat.

“Come on.” You smile, tugging her forward. Jack sighs and follows along. Eyes bright as she takes in the beautiful displays. Your eyes track her the whole time.

----

“That was beautiful.” Jack sighs once you reach the end of the street. You both continue walking, arms still linked together. “I’ve been wanting to go on a Christmas light drive this whole month but didn’t have the time, and this completely made up for it.”

It was one of the only Christmas traditions she had kept from her childhood. Doing it always brought back happy memories and helped to get her into the Christmas spirit.

“Oh wow, I haven’t gone on a Christmas light drive since I was a kid.” You smile, remembering your own childhood.

“Maybe next year we can do one together? It’s nicer with company.”

“I’d like that.” Your cheeks turn a light pink and Jack can’t tell if it’s from her offer or the frosty air.

“It would be a lot warmer too. I wouldn’t have to freeze my tits off.” She chuckles. Your eyes fall to her chest which is hidden by a number of layers of clothes and linger for long enough that Jack catches you. She smirks to herself, already knowing your thoughts weren’t PG. “Eyes are up here Y/N.”

Your head snaps up, your cheeks turning a vibrant red. “Hm? I was just admiring your scarf. It’s nice.”

Her lips twitch, almost proud of your quick excuse. “It was my present from Kasie on her random gift day this year.”

You nod, “Good choice.”

It really was. She’d been sceptical about the rainbow patchwork when Kasie had first given it to her as it was something she’d have never picked out for herself, but now it was easily her favourite. The bright colours always cheered her up every time she wrapped it around her neck.

“Kasie’s great at picking out presents.” She could tease you more, she liked seeing you blush, but it was just too easy. “So, where are we off to next?”

“Oh, well, I don’t live too far away. I thought maybe we could go back to mine and warm up with some hot chocolate?” You bite your lip, not quite meeting Jack’s eyes.

She’s surprised at your hesitancy, and bumps her shoulder against yours, “Hot chocolate? You know I’m in.”

Fifteen minutes later she’s making her way up the pavement to your apartment. The cold had officially reached her bones and her teeth were chattering as she entered the lobby.

“As nice as that was, I vote against walking half an hour in the peak of winter again. Next time, we uber.”

You laugh as you take off your hat, shaking the snow from it. “It wasn’t too bad.”

She rolls her eyes, and reaches for one of your hands, tugging the glove off, “Take your glove off, touch my cheek and tell me that again.”

You touch her cheek but quickly pull your hand away again, “You’re freezing! Come on, let’s get you warmed up.” You grab her hand, and tug her along behind you, walking at a much faster pace than beforehand.

“I’m not going to freeze to death, we don’t need to rush.” Jack laughs, pulling you back to slow you down.  She pulls harder than she intended though because you practically snap back into her arms. Her eyes fall to your lips, lingering for a moment too long. You clear your throat and Jack expects you to step away, but you don’t.

“I’ve really enjoyed today.” You say quietly.

“I hope it has made up for missing Christmas with your family.”

You chuckle, looking at Jack with a guilty smile “Is it bad to say I’m actually glad I missed my flight?”

“Only if it’s bad for me to say I’m grateful you missed your flight too.” She tilts on her feet, and carefully reaches for your hand. This time your eyes fall to her lips before you quickly look away. Jack smiles softly, “I couldn’t have asked for a better Christmas. It’s been almost perfect.”

“Almost?”

Jack’s eyes flick up, and it’s then she notices the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling above you. “Yeah, almost.” She breathes.

You follow her eye line, “Oh.”

She looks back to you, and hesitantly the hand-linked in yours moves to run up your arm before softly cupping your cheek. “Yes, oh.”

Your eyes flick between hers and her lips, and your tongue swipes out to moisten your own lips, “Let's make it perfect then.”

She smiles softly and gently guides your face closer. Her eyes track your glistening lips, before flicking to your eyes. “You’re sure?”

“Never been so sure of anything.”

That’s all she needs. And Jack finally does what she’s been fantasizing about doing for months - she kisses you. It starts off slowly, a gentle exploration, but it isn’t long before the kisses begin to heat up. Your hands grip at her waist, and she pushes herself in closer to you, removing the final bit of space.

She only pulls back when breathing becomes difficult. Your foreheads rest together as you both catch your breath. “This is definitely a Christmas to remember.”

You hum, “I think it might be my favourite.”

She kisses you again. It’s meant to be a short peck, but she quickly loses herself in it and it’s not until she hears a door open from behind her that she slowly pulls away.

You stare at her for a moment, a happy smile on your face before you look over her shoulder at the intruder. Your cheeks turn a slight pink as you nod and mutter “Merry Christmas.”

Jack looks at the older woman who she recognises as being one of your neighbours, and smiles brightly, “Merry Christmas.”

The woman shakes her head with a soft laugh, “Merry Christmas, dears. Have a good evening.”

“And you.” Jack nods. Only once the woman has walked off down a corridor does she turn back to you.

You immediately groan and drop your head to her shoulder, “I did not just get caught making out like a teenager by my neighbour!”  

“Could be worse. We could have been half undressed.”

Jack actually sees your brain short circuit.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, true. We could’ve been.” You clear your throat, “Uh, so, hot chocolate?”

“Are you sure we need it?” She definitely wasn’t feeling cold anymore.

You roll your eyes, smirking. “Okay, no hot chocolate, but are you still coming in?” You lean in and whisper into her ear, “I’m sure there’s something else we could do.”

Her eyes fall shut. She wants nothing more but… “If I come in, I won’t be leaving tonight, and don’t you have an early flight tomorrow?”

You pull back to meet her eyes, “Not until 11 and it’s a short drive there which means there will even be time for breakfast. I'll make you pancakes.”

Jack hums, “Your pancakes are very good…”

“Please.” You whine before pecking her lips. You begin to leave a trail of kisses along her jawline muttering please after each one. If it weren’t for the scarf, you’d be attacking her neck.

Jack teeters as her breath becomes shallow. Her whole body was drawn to you. It always had been, and she could finally live out the dreams she’d been having for months. “Yes.”

You place a final kiss against her lips before pulling back with a proud smirk. Jack rolls her eyes, “Shut it.”

“Didn’t say anything.”

“Smugness isn’t a good look on you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about because every look is a good look for me.”

Jack laughs and shakes her head with mock disapproval. “Are you going to take me to yours or just make comments the whole night instead?”

You hum, pretending to think it over.

“I mean if you want I can just go home and take care of myself.” She arches a brow with her own cocky smirk as your eyes flash with desire. You capture her lips in a searing kiss, which quickly has her smirk fading away and her moaning into your mouth. “Okay. No more games. Bed now.” She mutters between a kiss.

You nod, dragging her towards the direction of your apartment, the two of you never separating for more than a couple of seconds. You bash into the wall and if Jack’s sole intention wasn’t getting you into a bed, she might have felt bad for your neighbours.

Jack loosens the scarf around your neck to gain access and begins to leave a trail of kisses while you struggle to open your apartment door. “Jack, you’re making this difficult.” You whine, but it quickly changes to a sigh when she hits a particular spot. “Jack, please.”

“Please what?” She breathes.

“Stop for two seconds so I can get us inside and then you can do whatever you want.”

She pulls back, eyes black with desire. You unlock the door and before you can push it open, Jack’s pushing you backwards into the room, carelessly kicking the door shut behind her and capturing your lips in a kiss that has you weak in the knees.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.” She breathes against your lips.

“Merry Christmas, Jack.”

“Now, I think there’s a bedroom you need to show me.”

Giggling you drag her in the direction of your room.

It was definitely a Christmas to remember.