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sofullofloveicould · 2 years

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my thoughts on

Solar Power - Lorde

A thematic diversion from Lorde’s previous two albums, Solar Power is full of theatrical and powerful lyrics, wrapped up with the feel of a wistful summer. With airy, heavily-vocal songs and a deluxe version with two almost-mythological add-ons, and a visually stunning tour, the music and its companion elements are a testament to the overall quality of the album.

The Songs

“Now if you're looking for a saviour, well, that's not me

You need someone to take your pain for you?

Well, that's not me

'Cause we are all broken and sad

Where are the dreams that we had?

Can't find the dreams that we had”

The Path is a beautiful opening to the album, a segway into the overall themes and melodies of Solar Power. Representative of the name, The Path is about choosing directions and being comfortable with change. I interpret The Path as being auto-biographical, written as if telling someone about your life and the encounters and paths taken within.

This song has been written a million times, by a million singers. It shows a crack in the facade of fame, of having people worship you when you’re simply following the orders of someone else. It’s a relatable concept, even to those not at the forefront of media production and fame.

On the other hand, it can be interpreted not as a fan-singer parasocial relationship, but one intrinsically connected to your immediate life, someone who can be controlling and possessive. If you’re serving a passive role in your relationships, waiting for someone or something (the sun) to show you the way forward, sometimes that way is out. You can’t be expected to house someone’s entire catalog of pain and trauma. To be or be perceived as someone’s savior requires an immense power balance and the somber notes at the beginning of the song hint at the emptiness and heartbreak that is inevitable with an unhealthy relationship.

The rhythms and melodies of The Path start as something subdued and reminiscent but quickly crescendo into an energetic melody, with Lorde’s crooning vocals painting a picture that is as much carefully-sculpted art as it is up for interpretation. The lyrics are simultaneously ambiguous as well as steady and confident. The Path takes you by the hand and leads you into the album, a testament to the quality of music to come.

“No shirt, no shoes, only my features

My boy behind me, he's taking pictures

Lead the boys and girls onto the beaches

Come one, come all, I'll tell you my secrets

I'm kinda like a prettier Jesus”

The second track, and namesake of the album, Solar Power, has a contradictory theme to the previous song. The juxtaposition of feeling unbeatable, a god-like figure, and disliking the concept of becoming one’s “savior” is a common theme throughout the album and a feeling that exonerates the late-summer themes of the album.

Solar Power is about being above things, developing confidence, and knowing your worth.

After seeing this song live, my appreciation for it deepened. The captivation of the song comes, not necessarily from its lyrics or its instrumentation, but from the general air of the song. It’s catchy, repetitive, and best played loud. It’s a strong namesake song and easily ranks as one of my favorites from the album.

“Goodbye to all the bottles, all the models

Bye to the clouds in the skies that all hold no rain-

(Don't want that California love)”

The third track, California, is a strong escapist piece, with almost absurd lyrics that make it difficult to discern meaning as a fan and onlooker. With lyrics such as “Once upon a time in Hollywood when Carole called my name” and "I'd pay it all again to have your golden body back in my bed," I don’t have many concrete feelings about the message behind the song. However, the overall feel of the song is very ethereal and psychedelic.

Is California a metaphor for someone, or something, or are you leaving a location and a time of your life behind? That’s up to you, as the listener, to decide. It’s a heartbroken, calmer song for this album, a mix of introduction and social commentary, meant to discuss leaving behind the plasticky LA fame. Much of this album is centered around leaving control and finding new life and new ways, and this song is a great example of such.

“'Cause all the beautiful girls, they will fade like the roses

And all the times they will change, it'll all come around

I don't know

Maybe I'm just stoned at the nail salon”

Stoned at the Nail Salon is maybe the easiest song for me to discern meaning from, with its clear messaging about choosing and changing your course in life, being comfortable where you are but always wondering how it would be somewhere else. Are your feelings real and is the doubt validated, or is the grass always greener? It’s melancholic, heartbroken, and questioning. It’s a song to feel lost to.

Lorde poses questions and thoughts about her life experiences, phrasing them in a self-deprecating way. It’s pensive, with a positive-sounding track, and easy lyrics that gain depth upon further inspection.

It places as one of my top songs and has a very different feel than the others. It’s less carefree, less psychedelic, and is soothing when you’re lacking direction.

“Took the great minds and the vapers

And a pocketful of seed

It's time for us to leave

And we will walk together (we will walk)

Psychedelic garlands in our hair”

The song that follows, Fallen Fruit, is very different. While it carries much of the melancholic lyrics and vocals of Stoned at the Nail Salon, it’s much more kaleidoscopic, and the ambiguous nature of the lyrics helps to add to that feeling. There’s a robust instrumental presence in this song as well, with different sounds being added here that may not be heard in other songs in the album.

I find it difficult to analyze or draw significant meaning from Fallen Fruit, and that may be part of the point. The lyrics are ethereal and the music is sometimes contradictory in theme to the words being said. This makes it a modern-art installation of music, but also not necessarily one of my favorites, personally surpassed by Mood Ring and Stoned at the Nail Salon.

That being said, I do enjoy some of its almost mysterious nature, and the flora-like metaphors and imagery create an interesting headspace and internal image of the song.

“Guess it's been a while since you last said sorry

Crying in the dark at your best friend's party

You've had enough, gotta turn the lights up, go home

Couldn't wait to turn 15

Then you blink, and it's been ten years”

Secrets from a Girl (Who’s Seen it All) is similar to what you’d expect from the title. It’s an indirect catalog of a person’s life and experiences, told as if offering someone advice. Lorde is offering narration to the issues and changes in many teenage girls’ lives, maybe talking to her past self.

She compared her current life and maturity to that of her past, with the bulk of the song spent detailing specific experiences, and possible projections of her past phrased in a manner that makes them universal. The most interesting part of this song, however, is the ending. It’s a vocally intimate loudspeaker-like announcement, that starts with a flight attendant speaking, even saying; “thank you for flying with Strange Airlines, I will be your tour guide today.”

It slowly evolved from a PSA to a pickup line, as if she’s now talking to one person specifically. It’s one of my favorite “quirks” of the song and the album.

“We've been through so many hard times

I'm writing a love song

For you, baby”

The lyrics above are the ending of The Man With the Axe, and nearly perfectly sum up the themes of the song.

The Man With the Axe is a classic breakup song, almost as if a Hozier song was sung by Lorde, with potent imagery and a slow, soft pace. The Man With the Axe is a lover, a friend, someone you should never forget and also never talk to again. The song is a spot of calm in the tropical storm of Solar Power.

“You get fifty gleaming chances in a row

And I watch you flick them down like dominoes

Must feel good being Mr. Start Again”

The eighth track, Dominoes, honestly takes the spot for my least favorite on Solar Power. While the metaphors and songwriting are as always, eloquent and layered, much of the lyrics feel clunky. Specifically the line; “It's strange to see you smoking marijuana. You used to do the most cocaine, of anyone I'd ever met.” It may be ironically or purposefully clunky, but much of the song comes off with the cadence of someone just learning to sing, and the speech-like qualities it has are not appealing to me as a listener. Coupled with the often repetitive tune and lack of apparent depth, it’s not as meaningful or enjoyable as the other tracks.

Some of the lyrics stand out to me, however, and I enjoy the cadence with which the chorus is sung. The phrase “Mr. Start Again” specifically is an aspect I enjoy about this song.

“But every perfect summer’s gotta say goodnight

Now I watch you run through the amber light

I used to love the party now I’m not alright

Drinking in the dark, take me home tonight

Baby, you’re a big star”

The next song, Big Star, has a similar feel to Dominoes, but is less clunky, with a faster tempo and a slight return to the tropical airiness of previous songs. It’s the Liability of Solar Power, self-critical and reflective. The melodies are beautifully sung, and it places at the top of my song hierarchy. It’s soft, intimate, a ballad to unconventional love.

“Won’t somebody, anybody, be the leader of the new regime

Free the keepers of the burnt-out scene another day”

Leader of the New Regime is the third-to-last track on the regular version of the album, and the first Lorde song I’d ever heard live. She opened up every one of her tours with it, serving the same purpose it does on her album, as an interlude. It’s extremely short, just over one minute thirty seconds, and barely two verses.

Those two verses, however, are strong and decisive, marking a progression in the path out of control and liberation. It’s a common theme throughout, and this song, quite obviously, hints at the reinstatement of some sort of control over her life. Displaying, maybe, a sense of maturity and loneliness, the high of liberation having worn off. This song represents a segway, whether into a new period of life or the start of a concert, it symbolizes new beginnings, a new life starting to form under the watchful eye of relaxed disobedience.

“Ladies, begin your sun salutations

Transcendental in your meditations

(Love, and light)”

Mood Ring may be one of my favorite tracks on the album, and for good reason. It has a lightness to it, with sounds that feel carefree and summery, but there is a strong lyrical and emotional depth underneath. It documents the process of becoming emotionally out of touch with oneself and then finding yourself again. Our minds have been trained, in many ways, to respond to placebos, caring for plants as a replacement to caring for ourselves, looking at your mood ring to feel anything at all.

Does self-meditation help, or is it a bandaid on larger problems within oneself? Mood Ring poses those questions without actually asking them, describing the somewhat-universal experience of trying to cure your problems with candles and tarot cards. In some ways, it's the manic-pixie femininity that this album constantly leans into which shines through this song.

“It's a blue day

We could jump Bulli

When I hit that water

When it holds me

I think about my father”

The last song of the regular album is the longest and serves as a summary of an entire life, its past, present, and future. Oceanic Feeling is a lyric-heavy and relaxed number, heavily hallucinatory and incorporating sounds not used in the other songs. A few verses use the background sounds of cicadas for the rhythm, and the very end includes another voice in the mix, a man who appears for only one line.

The previously mentioned ending feels almost like a different song altogether, breathy and questioning, pitched much higher than the rest of the song. There must be hidden meanings behind much of the absurd lyricism, it’s so layered that only Lorde herself could know exactly what the messaging is intended to be. It’s generational, with lyrics referring to her father, brother, and future daughters. I interpret it as documentation of her life, having lived a long time but still unsteady on new legs.

“Oh, was enlightenment found?

No, but I'm trying, taking it one year at a time

Oh, oh, can you hear the sound?

It's shimmering higher”

(Deluxe)

There are two additions to Solar Power released in the deluxe version, Helen of Troy and Hold no Grudge. They both fit beautifully into the album, however, Helen of Troy feels much more ethereal and vocally similar to other songs, and the latter seems like a mesh between Melodrama and Solar Power.

This album is one of the few examples of an album in which I can confidently say that the Deluxe edition songs are just as good as the originals.

“You've heard it all before

One minute I was killing them all

And the next, the brown suit wouldn't let me perform, aah

Typical”

Helen of Troy is an ode to powerful femininity. Helen of Troy herself was rumored to have beauty so immeasurable that it sank a thousand ships. Lorde’s song holds a candle to the fragments of beauty that lives within every woman. It’s beautiful and mythical and heady, self-dedicated “to the girls”.

“Now that the ocean's all waves, and the diamonds are blood

There's a new girl on your song

I didn't know that I could be replaced”

The very last song is one post-breakup. Hold No Grudge reflects on the past, looking at a messy breakup that they’ve grown and matured beyond. It’s looking back on something that failed, but not necessarily regretfully. Despite all that, and the name, there are hints of resentment in the lyrics, but never vicious ones. An album consisting of a lot of self-reflection and improvement naturally ends with a song reflecting.

The Deluxe songs are amazing additions, not copying or dulling the rest of the album, which is something that deluxe editions of albums tend to struggle with.

Solar Power Tour

By the time my friend and I had noticed that the Solar Power tour would be visiting The Mohegan Sun, a local Casino and concert venue, the tour was supposed to have been finished. Luckily for us, the show originally slated for April 15th was rescheduled for August 25th, due to a “particularly bad case of laryngitis” and I pounced on the first tickets I saw. They were a little pricey - about $130 apiece for mid-tier seats, but we were late to get them and just excited to see another concert.

The opening act was an artist called Jim-e Stack, who played electro-pop house music for about 15-30 minutes. After a few minutes of delay, a set was wheeled out and the show began. The set was by no means intricate, a large cylinder and ladder combination, with about three extras and musicians. The lighting and visuals were stunning, and the small amphitheater meant that everyone had a great view of the stage, including us in our sub-par seats. Those two props made the show, allowing coverage for the several outfit changes between songs, and created all-around amazing visuals.

Lorde opened with Leader of a New Regime and ended with Green Light, the songs getting louder and the lighting getting more intense the longer the show went on. Out of my two concerts so far, I have to say that this was my favorite. The smaller venue coupled with the nature of the songs and the fact that the concert hall had a no-smoking policy made this one of the best experiences of my life. Everything choreographed was done beautifully, and her few monologues dragged on for just the right amount of time. It was a fittingly ethereal tour for an ethereal album, and the memories from that night are ones that I will treasure.

Final Thoughts

Solar Power is sometimes called Lorde’s “weed album” in prominent reviews. I can wholeheartedly attest to that notion. Each track tells its own part of this story of gaining and losing freedom and maturity, having lived so much of your life and still having so long to go. I don’t know if I can confidently say it’s my favorite of her albums, but it certainly is the most cohesive in conception and varied in topics and instrumentation.

Despite (or maybe due to) its often psychedelic nature, Solar Power has carved a spot as a comfort album of mine and cemented Lorde as one of my favorite musical artists. The production quality is amazing, and the depth of the sounds she manages to create would be nearly impossible to replicate. I hope that her fourth album takes elements from Solar Power as well as her previous two, and listening to the three back-to-back displays her personal growth as well as her growth as an artist. Her first album, Pure Heroine, is an ode to teenaged rebellion, with heavy vocals and sounds, and Melodrama is heartbroken, singing of loss and personal grief. Solar Power is new beginnings, and possesses a lightness not otherwise found in her discography.

Solar Power is a masterpiece of an album and has secured me as a fan for the foreseeable future. I can’t wait to see what she creates next.

#lorde #music #music review #solar power #album #song #secrets from a girl who's seen it all #big star #dominoes #helen of troy #concerts #concert review #Spotify

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keanureevesisbae · 3 years

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I was thinking abt sy with a lil idol gf and omg🥺🥺Bye he’d be so supportive🥰he would go to his gf’s shows and maybe even surprise his idol gf at a fansign and bring 20 albums for her to sign😭😭 the big bear definitely owns a bunch of merch and has a “secret” fan acc, He is overall just mushy for his girlie😩🤚(I’m so soft rn pls😭)

YOU JUST MADE ME THE SOFTEST HUMAN BEING ALIVE. OH MY GOSH, THIS IS ADORABLE, I LOVE THIS AND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR PUTTING THIS IDEA IN MY MIND!! (side note: i used Jennie's Solo cover for the art and i also went out of my way to make insta edits - yes, i'm that type of person) also, thank you sweet anon for sending me this 💗hope you like it

Captain Syverson x petite!cutesy!fem!reader

Summary: Sy has a reputation: a strong and powerful captain, who is never afraid and will never turn into a pile of mush. However, there is only one woman who is able to turn him into the ultimate fanboy.

Wordcount: 1k

Warnings: none

Sy is more of a country music kinda man. Growing up in Texas, near a bar with a mechanic bull, he was obsessed as a young teen with the idea of just touring through the state with a cowboy hat on his head and a guitar.

It’s just the fact that he can’t sing what stood in the way of a very promising country career.

He joined the military and forgot about the idea all together, but when he came back from his final tour to Iraq, his friends took him on a little welcome home drive through the country. They visited all sorts of bars, listened to all sorts of music there. Sure, all sorts of music had its appeal, but it would never be like country.

The final destination of the little road trip was LA and they went to a bar for new sing and songwriters to perform.

And that’s where he first laid his eyes on you. He remembers you sitting on a bar stool, back straight as a ruler. You were adorable, he thought to himself. Wide eyes as you were watching the stage, clapping your hands along with the beat and squealing when someone sang something particularly well.

And then it was your turn to get on stage. A sweet pink dress, matched with white sneakers and socks with a lace border. Nothing about the song you wrote and sang was something he usually liked. Very happy, up beat and your high voice sang every note perfectly.

Despite not his taste, he adored every second of it.

You seemed shy off stage, with the way you sat by yourself, but on stage that demeanor completely changed.

You were born to be a singer.

When you sat down at your own barstool again, he grabbed his beer and decided to sit next to you, get to know you. Everything about you was different. Petite, long hair and your feet didn’t even touch the floor.

He was supposed to stay in LA for two weeks, but that changed into a month and then two months, because he couldn’t get enough of you. He left Texas (something he never thought he would do) and moved to LA, where he got a job as a constructor. You quit your own job, one you only took to be able to pay for the bills and musical equipments. He loved helping you out, driving you from bar to bar, hoping your dream of becoming an idol would come true.

And one day, it happened.

You got an offer of one of the biggest agencies in the US and after the two of you read the contract multiple times, you signed and were an official idol.

Life changed a lot after that. You were either in the studio, dance practice and back at the studio again, however Sy made sure that you were well hydrated and fed, just like your back up dancers.

The people at the agency loved Sy and they often joked that he was part of the family that was created at the agency.

It all happened fast. Your first single, music video, first appearance at multiple late night shows and finally you reached one million followers on Instagram.

And he was right by your side.

His friends knew about his love for country, but they also knew about his much bigger love for you. They often would catch the big captain sing to the cute, almost bubblegum pop music you produced.

He didn’t care.

Sy had all your merchandise, whether it would fit him or not. He had your albums (all signed of course) and listened to them when you weren’t around. Sometimes he’d travel with you as you were touring, sometimes he stayed behind, especially after the two of you adopted a two year old American Akita.

The world knew you weren’t single, but you always kept Sy out of the spotlight, something he’d greatly appreciated. While you were born to be famous, he was born to live a more anonymous.

But that didn’t stop you from boasting about him on Instagram.

It had been at least three months since you saw him in real life. Your manager and all your back up dancers knew about his plan. Heck, they even helped Sy with planning it. He watches from the back, the line at your meet and greet stand growing smaller and smaller, until everyone has left. You let out a content sigh and want to get up, but your manager says there is a special fan still waiting in the back.

‘Really?’ you ask him. ‘Who is it?’

‘Very special. Super fan.’

That gains your attention, as your eyebrows are raised. ‘Do I know them?’

‘You’ve met them before,’ your manager says.

‘Oh, I do hope I recognize them,’ you say. ‘I don’t want to come across as such a bitch, you know.’

Your manager starts to laugh. ‘I wouldn’t worry about it,’ he says. ‘Close your eyes.’

You place your hands over your eyes and smile in anticipation. Sy quietly walks over to your table and places his newly bought album in front of you. ‘I’d like this signed, please,’ he says.

Within lightening speed you pull your hands from your eyes. ‘Oh my,’ you say, ‘Sy?’ You jump up, your chair falling behind you. You run around the table and wrap your arms around his neck. He lifts you up in his arms and gives you a kiss on your cheek. ‘I missed you! What are you doing here? How is Kal?’

‘Kal is good. He is with your parents.’

‘But what are you doing here?’ you ask.

‘I want my autograph,’ he says with a chuckle.

You press a kiss on his lips. ‘How long are you gonna stay here with me?’

He shrugs. ‘I brought enough clothing for let’s say… a month?’

Your eyes enlarge. ‘That’s the end of my tour! Oh, Sy, you’re staying with me?’ You have tears in your eyes and whisper: ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too, little lady.’

#captain syverson #captain syverson drabble #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson x idol!reader #sy and his idol gf

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sdvharveybby · 4 years

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How the Bachelors and Bachlorettes surprise the farmer on Valentines Day!

So, my friend @soft-bois-make-me-simp and I decided we wanted to collab for something on Valentines Day!! As this was our first time doing a collab with another person, we actually had a ton of fun throwing around ideas and getting stuff together! Not to mention that they had so many ideas that my mind was swimming, it was honestly so cool. I have a hard time writing about the bachelorettes, but they just blew me out of the water. I couldn’t have done this post without them and it was totally worth it. We had a ton of fun so we hope you enjoy this!!! All the Bachelors and Bachelorettes are below, thanks and WE LOVE Y’ALL. HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!!!!

I did all the bachelors! @soft-bois-make-me-simp did all the bachelorettes!

Bachelors~

Harvey

Oh, he spends a lot of time trying to present you with the best Valentine's Day present. He researches ideas on how to do that. In the end, he decides he wants to surprise you with dinner at his place and he is prepared. Throughout the day he spends it gifting you different presents like flowers, little love notes, and even a box of chocolates! Then, he calls you up and invites you over. Opening the door to the clinic, rose petals line the floor leading up to his door upstairs. Stepping into his room, the lighting is low with candles and jazz quietly breaking up the silence in the background. There’s a table set up in the middle of the room with a lacy pink tablecloth, dinner is set up, and rose petals decorate the floor. “H-hey!” He says nervously to you, “I-I wanted to surprise you, d-do you like it?” Even without the room completely lit up you know he’s blushing, but you can see that he’s wearing a nice undershirt like he always wears, but without his long green coat, and he’s wearing dark dress pants. He approaches you and softly gives you a kiss on the cheek, he then pulls you into a big hug. The dinner was delicious and you two spend the time complimenting each other and being in each other’s company. After dinner you help him clean up, you then see that he had been researching on how to be romantic… by watching romance movies. His efforts to show you how much he appreciates and loves you shows no bounds. He walks you home and before you walk through the door he says, “I love you, you know? I really do love you.”

Elliott

You wake up at your usual time and head outside to do your daily chores. You head towards the mail box and it’s stuffed to the brim with letters! Eyes wide, every single one is addressed from Elliott, you carry the stack of letters inside and as you open them they’re all love notes with various dates on them. By checking each date you realize he had been writing love notes, with you mind, for an entire month! You check the one for today’s date and it’s the shortest letter within the stack. He explains that he wants you to meet him at his place around 8pm but he doesn’t explain why (his signature has many red hearts around it.) Arriving at his place at 8pm he greets with a big hug and a tender kiss, “I could hardly wait for you, my love!” In his small shack he put together a wonderful dinner for you two to enjoy. During the meal he explains his love for you the only way a poet would, it goes from him desiring your beauty over the sun to how excited he gets whenever you’re in view. After dinner he gestures for you to sit and relax on his bed. The evening ends with him playing the piano, he wrote a piece (for the first time) completely inspired by you and the love he holds for you… and only you.

Alex

He is up and ready at 6am. With groggy eyes you open the door to see Alex with a big goofy smile holding flowers. “Good morning! I just wanted to say that I love you!” He says this all in one breath and thrusts the flowers to you, “I’ll come pick you up at 6pm. I love you, bye!” It seemed over in a flash once you accepted the flowers, but he seemed confident and happy- you couldn’t deny his puppy dog eyes. At 6pm he strolls up the path, and linking your arm with his, you both begin to walk to the beach. Nervously scratching the back of his neck, he blushes and says, “You’ve been there for me a lot. I know I’m not book smart or anything, but you’ve been my-” he reaches in his pocket to pull out a scribbled note, “-light at the end of the tunnel. I’ve never loved anyone more than I’ve loved you,” He awkwardly laughs, and with the sun setting behind him he stops and holds both your hands in his. His eyes are full of love and devotion, “I found these in Zuzu City, I hope you like them,” He pulls out matching necklaces giving you the one with ‘A’ on it. “See, this one has your letter on it! I hope you like it,” You couldn’t say no and he helped you put the necklace on. With his large and goofy smile you two end the evening in each other’s company, holding hands and watching the sun set.

Sebastian

Sebastian gets really excited to show you a new DND adventure that he’s compiled for you two to play. He explains that he’s thought about this for a while and through a slew of note writing and trial and error, he is convinced that he has made you the best gift for Valentines Day. It’s an odd adventure that asks you to find Sebastian his one true love- you laugh thinking it’s just Sebastian being goofy but you play along. Through fighting and exploration you begin to gather clues as to who his true love is supposed to be, the clues are subtle but explain the personality and appearance of the one he wants to be with. At the end of the campaign you smile because all along, through all the notes you’ve gathered throughout the adventure, they all describe you. You are his one true love and the only one he wants to be with.

Sam

Sending you a letter in the mail, Sam explains he wants for you to be home around 8pm. Course you comply, a bit curious considering you had no idea what he had planned. Coming up the path, carrying his guitar, he gives you an awkward smile. He seems nervous and his voice sounds shaky when he greets you, “I wasn’t sure what to give you for Valentines Day, so I did what I know best,” he says, unlocking his guitar case. He gestures for you to sit and with a shaky voice begins to play the guitar and sing you a love song that he created himself. Sam avoids eye contact with you for a bit as he plays, unsure of how you feel about it, but as time went he grew more confident. When he locks eyes with you it’s filled with appreciation, love, and admiration. After finishing his song he gives you a hug and a kiss on the cheek- he didn’t want to be with anyone else.

Shane

Shane decides that he wants to take you out to the Stardrop Saloon for Valentines Day. He opens the door for you and as you two sit he gives you a peck on the cheek. You can tell he’s certainly trying as you see he has gel in his hair and he’s wearing clean clothes. “I… Look, I don’t do sappy stuff, b-but you know, I really enjoy your company and I-uh I wanted to try and do something special for you.” He explains as a blushy mess, he avoids eye contact with you as he says this, but you can tell by the sound of his voice that he really means it. Without ever ordering, Gus approaches the table with a big smile and sets down a pizza that’s in the shape of a heart! “I-uh… I really like you, you know. I’m not good with this stuff, but you mean a lot to me so let’s enjoy some pizza!” He remarks trying to divert the conversation from anything sappy. Through the rest of the night he spends it trying to make you laugh, and you didn’t know how late it had gotten until Gus had kicked you guys out. When he walks you home you see him noticeably get sadder, you realize that he never wanted the night to end.

Bachelorettes~

Abigail

Abigail wants to take you for an adventure. One where it’s quiet and a place only she knows about, or so she thinks. Telling you to clear your schedule that day and to meet near the wizard tower she’ll blindfold you. It’s a secret she wants to share with you, but when she reveals the secret forest you smile at her. Hesitating for a second to tell her that you’ve been here often though when she’s about to lead you to a dead end and you tell her; she knows it wasn’t a secret to you. She asks you to lead the way to the pond where she has a blanket prepared and asks you to sit down. Once you are settled she plays you a piece on her flute that you haven’t heard before. It’s calming and beautiful, you would even describe it as enchanting. After she finished she tells you it was an original piece inspired by you.

Emily

Waking up you find Emily gone from her side of the bed. In her place was a wrapped up box tied together with a bow and a note saying Open. Inside was an outfit that was absolutely stunning in your favorite color. It was a more formal attire then what you both normally wear but that wasn’t all that was in the box. Another note attached to it saying she hopes you get a positive energy from the outfit as it was made with love. For another surprise please wear it and meet at the bus stop at 7pm. Wearing your new glamorous outfit that fits like a glove you see Emily dressed up and waiting for you. She takes you to ZuZu City where to your surprise the bus stops in front of a ballroom studio. Emily tells you she’s been taking a class on the “Dances of Love” and wanted to show you what she’s learned. You spend the rest of the night dancing, both getting lost in the music and each other.

Haley

Haley didn’t mention to keep your schedule open or to come at a certain time but you knew Valentine’s Day was important to her. It was a day she looked forward too each year and you were excited to spend it with her. After the chores around the farm were done you headed to her house with a pink cake you made yourself and a sunflower pouch Emily helped you make. You put the cake in the kitchen and head to her room. She was standing in front of the vanity, but when you walked in you heard a closing noise, almost like a book being closed. She is holding something behind her back when you approach she shoves something into your hands. It’s a scrapbook decorated in pink and sunflowers with both your names on the cover in a heart. Opening it, it's a collage of photos she’s taken over the time you’ve spent together. Polaroids of the first gift you gave her, your date with the cows, some of the mornings you’ve spent together and all the events you’ve been to together. She goes over how special each moment is to her and tears up saying how much of a better person you made her. Thanking you for coming into her life and showing how beautiful a photo can truly be when you’re in it.

Maru

Waking up you were excited as Maru asked you to meet her tonight. A special viewing of the stars with you space girl is something that always makes you happy. Though walking out you see all your crops have been waterd, in fact next to your crops were sprinklers. Confused, you walk to the mailbox where you find a letter from Maru telling you she built some sprinklers for you and if they are something you liked she’s happy to make more. She also reminds you about tonight and to dress warm! When the time arrives you head to the mountain and enjoy hearing her talk about space. That is until she mentions one star that you’ve never noticed before. She asks if you know the name but it’s one you are unfamiliar with. Maru smiles at your confusion. Telling you that for Valentine’s day her present besides the sprinklers, was getting you a star. A way that if you ever need to be reminded of her love just look up and know that she loves you more than all the stars in the sky.

Leah

Everyone in town was buzzing about a big Valentine’s event happening this year. It was something that was kept a big secret and nobody in town knew what was happening just what time to go. Leah was not one to usually express extreme interest in going to town events but she seemed very excited for this one. If not to find out what was the big event you decided to go for Leah. She mentions having to finish up some work and she’ll meet you at the event so heading alone you’re floored when you see it’s an art show. Not just any art show but one Leah is putting on! It’s a Valentine’s day art show with each piece centered around the theme of love. She tells you how you inspired these pieces and how you are her muse. Not just for today but forever.

Penny

Ever since the chili incident you have been trying your best to avoid Penny’s cooking. You love her, you really do and want to support her but cooking was just not a strong point. So when she asks you to a Valentine’s day picnic where she plans on cooking the food you’re a little hesitant but seeing her eyes light up talking about it you tell her of course. Walking into the forest you see her and a large basket next to her. She starts talking out dish after dish and encouraging you to try them all. You take a pepper popper and eat it. It was really good! You try all the different dishes from the stuffing to fish stew all delicious. She tells you she’s been practicing with Gus and is very happy to see you eating her cooking. Penny tells you she has one more surprise and gives you a book. It was your favorite book, looking inside you noticed a message. It was a message from the author, she got your book signed by your favorite author. Penny tells you to look on the last page as well where she wrote a note, although this book may be your favorite, our story will always be mine.

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years

Text

Hero | Luke Patterson

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Song Fic February Week 4: Musicals

Inspiration: StarStruck (DCOM)

Requested: Yes/No

A/N: Anon suggested doing something with the Starstruck soundtrack, so I’m writing a whole-ass series. This is based off the plot of Starstruck but the reader was a fan of JATP until she met Luke... Basically crush to enemies to lovers! Also a modern!au.

The third installment of the StarStruck series!

StarStruck

Something About The Sunshine

Hero

What You Mean To Me

Pairing: Luke x Fem!reader

Song(s) used: Hero - Christopher Wilde (StarStruck ST)

Warnings: few swear words, mention of car accidents, mention of child abuse, mention of postnatal depression, tiny bit of angst

Words: 8.6K

I’m almost nervous to see him again. There’s a nervous flutter erupting from the pit of my stomach and I feel hot and sweaty when it’s not even that warm out. The boy didn’t have that effect on me just a day ago and now he suddenly does? I hate this.

“Morning,” I greet when I find Luke standing outside the coffee shop with his hood pulled far over his head and sunglasses covering his beautiful eyes. He shoots me a smile, but I don’t think he actually looks at me. Right, the whole “I can’t be seen with you”-thing.

“Want to go grab some coffee before we go?” I ask instead, pointing at the shop.

Luke nods his head and follows me inside where we wait in line together. The silence that hangs over us is uncomfortable for the first time. I don’t know why but his mysterious, secretive antics are making me nervous.

“Next!” the barista calls and the two of us step forward. The twenty-something woman shoots the both of us a polite smile, not even acknowledging that Luke’s keeping his head low. This is L.A., she’s probably used to it by now. “What can I get for ya?”

“An iced vanilla latte for me, please,” I say and then glance down at Luke.

He coughs. “Iced caramel macchiato.” His voice is low, just above a whisper, as though he’s telling the barista and me a secret. I’m glad we’re going to be out of the city soon, so Luke can go back to his regular self. Or to the singing-on-top-of-a-car-in-the-middle-of-nowhere self.

“What’s your name, please?”

“Y/N…” My eyes land on Luke for a split second, and I’m pretty sure he’s not even going to answer. Luke’s a pretty generic name, I’m sure people won’t even bother to look up. “Put my name on both, please.”

The barista smiles and then dashes off after I paid to start making our coffees while we shuffle towards the end of the counter, ready to take our drinks when they’re ready. Luke keeps his head down. He doesn’t even look up at me and the awkward silence doesn’t eb away.

“You’re not gonna talk to me yet, are you?” I ask him as I hand him one of the two straws I picked up. He shakes his head. I try my hardest not to groan and instead, hand him the keys to my car. “Here, get yourself settled in my car, I’ll handle this.”

His eyes peer over the rim of his sunglasses, flickering with uncertainty and gratefulness at the same time. I shoot him a smile, urging him to get out of here, which he does with a quick flash of his teeth.

The awkwardness quickly washes off me when he’s left the coffee shop and I’m all alone, hoping everything would change once we’re all alone, away from the prying eyes of Los Angeles’ residents.

“Iced vanilla latte and iced caramel macchiato for y/n,” the barista calls and places the cups on the counter in front of me.

I smile at her, say, “Thank you! Bye!” and then dart out of the coffee shop as fast as I could. I weave my way through hasty people and slacking tourists towards my Toyota Yaris where a hooded boy sits in my passenger seat. He still has his hood pulled up and his sunglasses balancing on the bridge of his nose. He almost looks sad, which makes me a little sad too. I wish I could do more than let him wait in my car.

“Here you go,” I say and hand him his coffee when I’ve settled into my seat.

“Thank you,” he mutters, and I’m pretty sure it’s not just for the beverage.

A smile etches its way to my cheeks as I regard him. “You’re welcome,” I say and then start the engine. As I pull out of the parking lot, Luke finally sparks up a conversation. I’m almost relieved to hear his voice again for more than two words.

“Where’re we going?” he asks.

I debate telling him but then decide I’d do it anyway. I’ve been researching a lot last night and have found the greatest secluded spots and the time slots when they’re mostly deserted or have the least visitors. The one I wanted to take him to today was a lot closer than the other ones, so I figured we could start with that.

“The Old L.A. Zoo. It’s less crowded before 9am, so I figured we could go explore it a bit until too many people arrive?” The statement comes out of my mouth as a question since I’m unsure whether or not he’d like that.

“Cool,” he replies, and he sounds honest, too. “I don’t think I’ve ever been there.”

It surprises me a little, but I go with it anyway. “Really? I’ve been there plenty of times! It’s really cool! Kinda spooky.” Luke lets out an airy laugh at that and it makes my heart flutter a little.

Within ten minutes, we arrive at the old zoo. Ten minutes had gone by and yet it felt like a split second. The conversation ran fluently on our way there and Luke told me things about the band and his childhood that not even the biggest fangirl on earth could possibly know. I love talking to Luke about those seemingly uninteresting, small things.

The rest of the morning, too, goes by as if there’s no concept of time whatsoever. The two of us walk through the old, abandoned zoo and explore every single old habitat. I even find a website that tells us the entire history of each section of the zoo and as I read it, Luke listens and adds in his own commentary. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed this much in just a few hours. This guy is genuinely funny and I just adore talking to him. Our conversations go from the ridiculous to the serious, and every subject in between.

It’s just the perfect day that I wish would never end, but inevitably, Luke has his own responsibilities and has to go by lunch time.

“Hey, why don’t you come with me to the studio?” he asks with a smile as we’re making our way back to the car. “I’m in there all by myself, aside from our producer, and I’m recording a few songs.”

I open and close my mouth a few times, letting incomprehensible sounds roll out. It makes me look like a dumbfounded fish, I’m sure, but I don’t care. My brain is dysfunctioning for a moment. Luke Patterson is asking me to come to the studio with him. To watch him record some songs. Songs that are going to be on the album.

Luke’s laugh makes the gears in my brain fall back into place. “Is that a yes?” he asks.

A heat rises up to my cheeks. “Yeah,” I finally manage.

“Cool,” he says and then gets into the car.

The ride to the studio is filled with smooth conversation. We never miss a beat, there’s never an awkward silence between the two of us. Only when we arrive at the recording studio and we’re met with a huddle of paparazzi outside the door.

“Fuck,” he mutters and ducks down. I do the same, knowing he doesn’t want me to be seen with him either. “Drive around back,” he orders before fumbling into the glove compartment of my car. He retrieves a pair of sunglasses I kept there, along with a shawl of my mother’s that I didn’t know was still in there. “Put this on.”

“No,” I reply sternly, pushing his hand with the shawl away. I do take the sunglasses from his hand though, and push them onto my nose. “Put that shawl away,” I bark. The boy obeys and stuffs the piece of cursed fabric back where it came from.

Mental note: throw that out.

When we finally do get into the recording studio, as soon as I’m on Luke’s side, he grabs my hand and drags me into the building before anyone could ever spot us. I nearly stumble on my own feet, but quickly pick myself back up before I faceplant the floor.

Luke huffs. “Phew, that was close.”

He looks at me, and for a second, I think he might bring up the shawl again, but he doesn’t and instead turns to his producer, who had gotten up from his swivel chair the second we burst in.

“Connor!” Luke greets excitedly and shakes the man’s hand.

He looks near his thirties, strong built with flawless dark skin and a full head of afro hair. Combined with his extremely savvy outfit, I find him really cool-looking. He’s the kind of guy that would get all the girls in high school while still being a sweetheart.

“You brought some new flesh, I see,” Connor says to me and outstretches his hand for me to shake. I do so with a wide smile on my face while pretending not to be completely nervous about being in a recording studio for the first time.

“Y/N,” I introduce myself.

“Welcome to our little slice of heaven on earth, y/n.” My eyes flick to Luke, who’s giving me that look again, so I quickly turn back to Connor. “Any knowledge of recording studios, y/n?” he asks.

“Never been in one, but my friend is a producer and he did teach me some things.”

I hear Luke huff beside me. “I didn’t know that.”

“Well, there’s a lot you don’t know.” I shoot him a wink as Connor beckons me towards his deck. For a while, Connor guides me through his paces while Luke gives the best of himself on this song.

After a few takes, Luke comes out of the booth and joins me and Connor to listen to what we’d recorded thus far. “What if –” I pause, debating my thoughts. “What if we go in with some soft backing vocals on here?” I click the part of the chorus we’d recorded and sing along with recorded Luke.

“'Cause I I can be everything you need If you're the one for me Like gravity I'll be unstoppable I, yeah, I believe in destiny I may be an ordinary guy With heart and soul But if your the one for me Then I'll be your hero”

“I think if you put Julie on those backings, it could give that duet-vibe you guys are so good at.” I notice Connor and Luke glance at each other, soft smiles playing on both their lips.

“Why don’t you show us?” Connor asks as Luke already grabs my hand.

“What?! Me? No! Julie.”

Luke chuckles and drags me into the booth with him. “Yeah, but we’re gonna need a demo, don’t we?” He delicately places a set of headphones on my head before placing one on his own. He signals to Connor and no later than 2 seconds, the instrumental version of the song blasts through the headphones.

Gazing at me, Luke starts singing the first verse of the song, and I let him. It almost feels like he’s serenading me. Almost. All that’s missing is a guitar or a boombox over his head.

“I'm no superman I can't take your hand And fly you anywhere you want to go Yeah I can't read your mind Like a billboard sign And tell you everything you want to hear But I'll be your hero”

From the chorus onwards, I jump in with backing vocals wherever I feel like it’s acceptable without taking my eyes off of Luke.

“I I can be everything you need If you're the one for me Like gravity I'll be unstoppable I, yeah, I believe in destiny I may be an ordinary guy With heart and soul But if you're the one for me Then I'll be your hero”

“Could you be the one Could you be the one for me” “Oh I'll be your hero” “Could you be the one Could you be the one for me” “Yeah I'll be your hero”

“So incredible Some kind of miracle That's what it's meant to be I'll become a hero So I wait, wait, wait, wait for you”

We keep our eyes locked at the high note too, smiles plastered on our faces from ear to ear. Singing with Luke gives me some kinda rush. A feeling I can’t quite describe but it’s a feeling I want to feel more often.

“Yeah, I'll be your hero Yeah”

“Cause I I can be everything you need If you're the one for me Like gravity I'll be unstoppable I, Yeah, I believe in destiny I may be an ordinary guy with and soul But if you're the one for me I'll be your hero”

“Yeah, I'll be your hero”

“Could you be the one Could you be the one for me”

“Yeah I'll be your hero”

The music fades out in our headphones, and soon, Connor’s applause sounds through it instead. I’m snapped back into reality, away from cloud 9, away from the pure bliss that’s singing with Luke and gazing into his eyes.

“That was amazing! Good job, guys!” Connor says, beaming.

Luke and I remove our headphones and he grabs my hand to lead me back to the decks where Connor welcomes us with open arms and a wide smile.

“I thought you and Julie were the most watchable duetters, but I’ve been proven wrong.”

I feel the heat rise to my cheeks before Luke snaps me out of it again.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Con. Can you send the finished product to the band and our manager? I’m sure they’d like to hear this. Don’t tell them who’s on backing vocals, though. They don’t need to know that.”

I swallow a lump in my throat and try to convince myself it’s probably not that deep. Luke doesn’t want to be seen with me. Not even by his band mates. It’s fine. It’s totally fine.

We wrap up the recording session and I drive Luke back to the coffee shop where he looks behind him and out of every single one of the windows, just to be sure the coast is clear of paparazzi.

“Thanks for the day, y/n. I really enjoyed spending time with you again.”

I force a smile. Ever since his statement to Connor about not wanting the band to know about me, I’ve been going over everything in my mind and it has caused me to fold in on myself.

“Yeah, it was fun.”

He gazes at me for a moment, inspecting every inch of my face as if detecting the lie from my eyes. When I think he’s just going to bid his goodbyes and get out, he doesn’t. Instead, he turns his body to me and reaches for his phone. I watch as he unlocks it and taps away on it before turning the device towards me. There’s a new contact form open on his screen.

“Gimme your number. I’d love to do this again some day.”

I furrow my brow while taking the phone in my hands. “Do you even have time to spend days with a nobody like me?” I don’t dare look at him and keep my eyes on the screen as I type my name and number.

He doesn’t say anything either until I finally cave and look up when giving his phone back. There’s a crease in his forehead as his eyebrows are knitted together in confusion.

“You’re not a nobody, y/n. I’d gladly make time for you. I told you, I loved spending days away from reality. Especially with you.” Fangirl Me is jumping out of my skin while Present Me tries to keep her cool and ignore all of the butterflies that erupt in her stomach.

“Cool,” Present Me says out loud while Fangirl Me is scolding her so hard.

Cool? Cool?! Seriously? Dude.

“I’ll text you, yeah?”

I nod my head in response and watch as he gets out of my car. Before I can even place my foot on the gas or shift out of park, my phone beeps in the pocket of my sweater. For the first time in forever, I smile when seeing an unknown number on my screen.

As I look out of my window, I find Luke looking at me with his hood pulled over his head again. He shoots me a quick smile and a wave before I turn to my phone again and type a reply.

I whip my head up to see his reaction. His jaw drops before his face turns into a scowl as he glares at me. Giggling and satisfied with the reaction, I place my phone on the passenger’s seat where Luke was sitting before and then pull out of the parking spot.

That night, I save Luke’s number to my phone. I go between “Luke P.”, “Patterson” and “Luke ❤️” but eventually decide on the funnier option and save him as “Poo Musician 💩”.

I stand in line at the coffee shop before 8:30 that morning and I’m a little nervous. Last night when I returned from my day with Luke, the two of us had been texting back and forth. I felt like a sixteen year old again. One of those giggly teenagers that’s texting their crush. Which is what I was, but it’s been a while since I felt like it.

Once I have an iced vanilla latte and an iced caramel macchiato, I head outside where I find a boy waiting by my car. He’s wearing a sleeveless shirt paired with a bright blue sleeveless sweater, his hood pulled far over his head so his face is hidden from prying eyes.

I don’t need to see his face to know it’s Luke. I’d recognize those muscles from a mile away. The way he’s leaning against the hood of my car and the way he’s holding his phone is a dead giveaway too.

“Your coffee, sir,” I say in a serious, deep voice.

Luke’s head snaps up, eyes wide. He looks like a deer caught in headlights until he notices it’s just me and relaxes. A smile etches onto his face as he tucks his phone into the pocket of his jeans whilst taking the coffee I ordered for him with his other hand.

He takes a cautious sip from the beverage. “Hm, Caramel Macchiato, someone’s been stalking me.” I know he’s just teasing, I can tell by the way one corner of his mouth curls up and his eyes have that childlike glint in them.

Making my way to the driver’s side of my car, I smile and say, “Contrary to popular belief, Patterson, I’m not a stalker. I just remembered your order from yesterday.”

Luke’s smile tells me something I’d rather not think about. It’s like he’s saying “You remembered my order” in that flirty way only he knows how to. I simply shrug before opening my door and getting in with Luke following my example. Without missing a beat, he fishes my phone from between my fingers and grabs my free hand to use my thumb to unlock my phone. This time, I don’t object and let him. I know that it’s just to get to my music app anyway.

While Journey’s Anyway You Want It plays through the car’s speakers, I pull out of the parking spot in front of the coffee shop and start driving to the next location I’d found during my research the other night.

“Where’re we going?” he asks, and I flashback to yesterday when he asked me the exact same question in that exact same way.

I smile as I place my cup in the cupholder between the two of us. “You’ll see.” I glance over, finding him tilting his head slightly and giving me that ‘Really?’ look. “I promise it’s very secluded and not a lot of people will be there.”

“Cool,” he says and sips. “Is this where you’re going to kidnap me and hold me for ransom? I bet you could get a lot of money for a Julie and The Phantoms band member.”

I snort at his remark. “How much do you think I could get for you?”

He scrunches up his nose in thought, which I catch as I take a quick glance at him again. As I face the road again, I reach for my coffee and take a quick sip, awaiting Luke’s response to my question.

“Like 10k?”

I nearly spit out my coffee. “10k?!” I screech, and his laugh thunders through my car. “Careful or I’ll actually kidnap you and hold you for ransom if I’m gonna earn that much.”

The laughter dies down and after a few moments of silence lingering in the air, Luke says, “How much do you think I’m worth?”

Without missing a beat, I respond to his question, dead serious. “Not even a dollar.”

Luke gasps, his mouth dropping in absolute disbelief while I can’t help but cackle loudly. Judging from this conversation alone, I’m positive today will be a good day. A good, fun day.

“I’m worth more than a dollar, right?”

“No, you’re right, I’d probably ask like a million and then no one will pay the ransom and you’ll have to stay with me for the rest of your life.”

I let out my best maniacal laughter as I feel him watch me. I know the exact look he’s giving me. The look. The one with the glistening eyes and the slightly turned up lips. The one all girls and gays swoon for. The one I would swoon for if I’d turn my head right now. But I don’t. For once in my life, I’m smart and keep my eyes on the road.

“You like me,” he states proudly.

“Slightly less strong dislike.” I’m lying through my teeth, but I’m hoping Luke won’t notice. Or at least not acknowledge it because I can already feel the heat rising to my cheeks.

“I’ll take it.”

He reaches forward and turns the volume up as Taylor Swift’s “Blank Space” floats through the speakers. Very loudly, and very obnoxiously, the boy begins to sing along. If it wasn’t for the velvet smooth voice, I would’ve scolded at him to keep it down. But the sound actually makes my toes curl and my stomach flutter. For a verse, I let him sing by himself while I enjoy his performance but by the chorus, I can’t withhold myself and sing along with him.

The rest of the ride is filled with belting of the road trip tunes, laced with patches of small talk. It’s the perfect car ride, and before we know it, we’ve arrived at our destination. Santa Fe Dam Recreation Area. The parking lot is practically empty, aside from two cars, which I’m assuming are the staff’s. It’s the perfect indication that I picked the right spot to go to, and I can tell Luke knows it too.

He’s bouncing in his seat, either from excitement or the amount of sugar that was in his iced coffee, and when I turn off the ignition and turn to him, he looks at me with the widest smile plastered on his face. He almost looks like an excited toddler on Christmas morning, ready to open his presents.

“I came here once with my parents when I was younger,” he tells me, “I love this place.”

His confession makes me smile. “Good because I’ve been scouring the internet for the perfect place.” He shoots me the look again. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re going to kiss me.”

He shrugs, “Maybe I want to.”

“So you want me to slap you?”

His smile fades away immediately. “Let’s go,” he grumbles and quickly gets out.

I heave in a deep breath, recollecting myself before getting out too and retrieving the backpack I brought, filled with stuff for today. Including my itinerary – or just a notebook filled with some ideas I had.

“How about we start with a bike ride across the park?” I suggest, pointing at the bike rental shop I found on Google the other night.

We walk into the rental place, expecting there to be bikes upon bikes but instead, we’re met with kayaks, pedal boats and go-karts. My eyebrows furrow, creasing my forehead as I look around the space. Why’s this called a bike rental when there are technically no bikes to rent? No actual bikes.

“I thought we were going for a bike ride?” Luke says, teasingly. I look up at him, and I think my face tells him enough about my knowledge about this place. My research clearly wasn’t sufficient.

Deciding to just roll with the circumstances, I roll my shoulders back and put a smile on my face. “Yeah, we’re going on a bike ride with one of these!” I say and point to the large, green go-kart. One of those that look like an old-school car at the front and have children’s seats in front of the terribly cushioned seats for adults. The ones with the small plastic wheel and bike pedals for two adults. I remember going on one of those big ones for six people with my family.

“You’re serious?” Luke asks, his eyes wide.

Instead of answering, I shoot him a smile before stepping forwards towards the staff member at the counter. The woman behind the counter looks no older than 45 and has long, billowing blonde locks that cascade down her shoulders. Her bright blue piercing eyes glisten as they land on the two of us, clearly glad she sees some customers so early in the day.

“Good morning,” she greets with a smile, “We open in half an hour.”

“Oh…” My research has been poor.

Before I can possibly think of an answer, Luke steps forward and flashes the woman a smile. I’m not sure if he’s going to use his manly charms or if he’s going to pull the “Don’t you know who I am?” card.

“Can’t you… make an exception for us?” he asks, leaning his elbow on the counter as he looks at the woman through his lashes. The woman looks up at Luke, her face like stone. She doesn’t recognize him and doesn’t fall for his charms either.

Shaking my head, I spring into action. I quickly change the ring on my index finger to my ring finger and wrap my arm around Luke’s bicep while the other rests on his chest, making sure the ring is as visible as can be. As I flutter my eyelashes at the woman, I let the words tumble out of my mouth.

“Please, ma’am? It’s our one year engagement anniversary and he was going to take me on this romantic bike ride….” I then lean forward over the counter. “He’s not very good at researching our dates, but he tries.”

The woman’s eyebrows knit together as her eyes dart from me to Luke and back.

“Aren’t you guys a little young to be engaged?”

Luke jumps into the improvisation spot. “We’ve been told that a lot but we’ve been best friends for years and there’s no one I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.” He looks down at me and when I glance up, too, he kisses the tip of my nose, which I then scrunch.

I ignore the flutters in my stomach and face the woman again. She seems to have softened, her eyes less icy than it was before. Then, she turns to her computer and clicks through a few browsers before facing us again.

“What do you guys want? The Surrey?” She points to the green bike-thing at the front of the shop. I nod my head in response. “Okay. You’ve got it for two hours for the price of one hour.”

A smile etches its way to my face. “That’s perfect, thank you.”

Luke pays the woman the rental fee and then she helps us get Surrey out of the garage. After bidding our goodbyes, Luke and I pedal off on the bike.

“One year engagement, really?” Luke asks me when we’re far enough from the rental and I switch my rings back around.

“Well, whatever you were doing didn’t work.”

He scoffs. “It was working.”

We pedal down the winding road with the wind blowing through our hair. I love how warm the breeze is and how the birds are chirping in the trees around us. This is the perfect day to go out and do this.

“What exactly were you planning to do?” I ask him, glancing up at him. He’s focusing on the road ahead of us, a comfortable smile resting on his lips while his eyes flick from one side to another, taking everything in.

He glances down at me, the smile turning into a smirk. “I was going to charm her with my manly wiles.”

“And how was that working for ya?”

For a second, we lock eyes. Luke has an annoyed look on his face while I can’t help but have my lips curl up on one side into a smirk. When he whips his head forward again, I notice the slight tint of pink covering his cheeks.

Did I just make Luke Patterson blush?

“So,” he coughs. “Whatcha wanna do?”

I shrug. “We could play twenty questions? Get to know each other better.”

He nods his head in response. “You wanna start?”

“That’s your first question?”

“That’s yours?”

I press my lips together, shutting myself up for just a moment before recomposing myself. I’m not going to lie, I totally Googled some questions to ask in a game of 20 questions. So, I’m prepared.

“If you had to be trapped on a deserted island with one of your friends, who would you pick and why?” Luke’s eyes widen at the question a little.

“Woah, straight in! I thought you were gonna start with ‘favorite color’ or something.” He chuckles lightly, and so do I. “Uhm… Not Alex, he’d probably be super anxious and pace all the way across the island and make me nervous. Not Reggie either, he’d be singing country songs the entire time, though he is a great cuddler. Maybe Julie? Though she’s gonna be miserable without Flynn….”

With every thought he says out loud, my smile grows bigger and bigger.

“You?” My heart leaps in my chest at his answer. “Yeah, I like spending time with you and what better place to get away from real life than a deserted island, right?”

Without missing a beat, the next words pour out of my mouth. “It’s cute how you think we’re friends now.” I surprise myself with the words I speak. We are friends, but I like winding him up into thinking we’re not.

“Friends who wanna kiss each other.”

Ignoring the heat rising to my cheeks, I reply, “You mean kill?”

Luke shakes his head, an amused smile on his face. “When are you going to admit that you like me?”

“Never – Next question.”

“Uhm… What was the last thing you stole or shoplifted?” he asks and I’m glad he doesn’t push any further on the fact I basically admitted that I like him.

“Oh! A magnet in a tourist shop in Lanzarote,” I reply, giggling a little at the memory. “I was there with a couple of friends during Spring Break and those magnets cost way too much for what they are and there was like a rack outside the shop. So, I shoplifted an overpriced Lanzarote magnet.”

Luke throws his head back as he laughs, nearly steering us into the bushes. “That’s amazing,” he cackles.

We cruise through the entire park for two entire hours, asking each other questions, and after returning the Surrey, we walk towards the lake where we settle down onto the blanket I brought for some food. I’d prepared an entire picnic basket for us to enjoy during our lunch.

“I find it very cute that you made an entire picnic basket for our first date.”

I smile. “I find it very cute that you think this is a date.”

He gives me the look again, but I ignore it and get every piece of food out of my backpack, sprawling it out around us. Sandwiches, chopped up vegetables and fruits, muffins,... All the delicious foods you’d find in a picnic.

“Tell me more about your childhood,” Luke then says as he takes a chicken sandwich and takes a bite. “You don’t talk about it much.”

My heart drops into my stomach. I wish he wouldn’t ask about that. Talking about my childhood means talking about my mother and I’ve been trying to avoid that for the past years. Not that many of my friends even know about that.

“I told you plenty.”

“You talked about your teenage years, but never about your childhood.”

I take a deep breath. He’s not going to shut up about this until I tell him. It’s not that I don’t trust him, it’s just that I don’t love talking about what happened with my mother. It’s something I’d much rather forget.

“There’s a reason for that,” I reply pointedly and then shut myself up by taking a sip from the box of orange juice. I’d packed one for the both of us, but I’m the only one who’s opened it already as Luke had gone straight in with the sandwiches.

Luke stares at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue. His eyes pierce through my soul and give me a sense of comfort. They lift a weight of my shoulders and chest that I hadn’t even noticed were there. His eyes feel like coming home. Comfortable. A place to relax. A place to be me, be myself.

I heave in a deep breath and place my juice box on my nervously bouncing knee, holding it with my hand. It doesn’t stop the bouncing, so now my whole body is practically shaking along with the movement.

“I–” I stop myself, reconsidering my words. “My childhood wasn’t the sunshine and roses it’s supposed to be.” I chuckle nervously and when I meet Luke’s eyes again, they’re looking at me with such intent that I almost launch forward and kiss him. But I don’t.

“Mom was… difficult to live with…” I start cautiously, not even daring to look at Luke as I speak and keep my eyes on the still lake in front of us. “She uhm… After I was born, she kinda went into postnatal depression. She didn’t take care of me, she barely even looked at me… At one point, it went so far that she got into an accident, on purpose, with me in the back. She did it a few times, even, to the point where dad just had to report it. She was admitted to the psych ward and that was that... I was ten at the time.” I swallow to hold back the tears that are pricking behind my eyes.

Feeling a soft brush of the hand on my knee, I glance up, meeting Luke’s eyes. They give me that sense of comfort again, that sense of home, the reassurance that I’m okay.

“We haven’t really seen her since. She’s out of our lives…” I sniffle and place my hand over Luke’s, giving it a thankful squeeze. “I don’t like talking about it.”

Luke carefully laces his fingers through mine, his cold rings cooling my warm hand. “I’m sorry I brought it up.” I shrug dismissively. “But thank you for telling me.”

“So, tell me,” I lift our entwined hands for a second as though pulling us back into reality. “How did Sunset Curve-slash-Julie and The Phantoms came to be?”

Luke chuckles before engulfing our locked hands with his other and tumbling into the origin story of the bands he was in. He talks about meeting Reggie and Alex in primary school, and then meeting Bobby in middle school. He explains how they started the band in music class and then continued playing together until Bobby moved away from Los Angeles. The story then lapses into giggles and chuckles about all the things they tried to keep Sunset Curve alive, but terribly failed.

“But then we met Julie in high school and – the rest is history.”

We’re clearing up our mess before making our way back towards the car. I love hearing Luke talk, especially about the band. It makes his eyes light up and he gets all bouncy and enthusiastic. It’s the cutest side of Luke I ever did see in the past few days of hanging out with him.

I take one last look at the lake where tiny dots of humans are floating along on the lake in their tiny boats. There are just a few, so nothing to worry about, but it does make me want to go kayaking too. Mostly because I don’t want the day to end.

“Wanna go kayaking?” I ask Luke, pulling him to a halt by tugging at our still intertwined hands. His eyes dart from mine to the lake and back. I can tell he’s debating it, but then he nods and a smile appears on his face.

With our hands intertwined, we go back to the rental place and ask the woman for a double kayak. We pay, put on the safety vests she’s given us and then proceed onto the water. As we pedal along, Luke tells me about all the adventures he’s been on with his friends and how he used to do this all the time before his schedule got so crazy.

Every now and again, he stops and pretends to tip the kayak, making me squeal each and every time whilst he laughs his most maniacal laugh.

The wall I’d built around my heart was slowly crumbling. Every laugh, every touch, every glance took away a small part of the brick wall. I’m falling in love with the boy I’d had a crush on and then strongly disliked for a good five-ish days.

Getting distracted was not a good idea as I’m not prepared for what follows next. Luke pretends to tip it over again, but this time, he wobbles too hard and actually makes the boat topple overhead. I squeal, but quickly shut my mouth as I tumble into the water, making sure not too much of the lake’s contents gets into my body.

“Patterson!” I scowl as I crash the surface again and find Luke laughing a few feet away. His brown, shaggy hair sticks to his head, dripping small drops of water onto his face. If I wasn’t so angry at him, I would definitely kiss him right here, right now.

“I hate you!” I splash some water at him as the words roll off my lips. Luke’s laughter abruptly stops and he stares at me. His once glistening eyes dull down while his mouth falters into a frown.

“You do?”

My face softens as I watch him. He looks so beautiful with his hair all dishevelled and the reflection of the sun on the water mirroring onto his face. I want to kiss him. I want to kiss him so bad.

I swim closer towards him and stroke his wet hair out of his face. My breath hitches in my throat at how close we are but I try to play it off by keeping my hands on his face and my eyes locked with his. I notice his eyes flicking down to my lips a few times, telling me he wants to kiss me as much as I want to kiss him.

Should I? Full throttle? Or step on the brakes?

I don’t even get the time to think about it as Luke presses his lips to mine. Now I don’t hesitate a single moment and immediately kiss him back. Sliding my hands into his wet locks and pressing my body as close as I can, I melt entirely into him. The same sense of bliss I have when singing with Luke washes over me and I find myself on cloud 9 again.

We pull back after a moment to catch our breath. The glint in his eyes is back and his mouth, though a little swollen and red, curls up into a smile. He presses one more kiss to my nose before helping me towards the shore. We climb out of the water and bring the boat back to the rental place, along with our safety vests.

Grabbing my backpack I had left with the woman for safekeeping, Luke and I bid our goodbyes and leave the rental, intertwining our hands again. The feeling his hand in mine gives me will never get old.

As we get to the car again, I yawn, feeling a sense of exhaustion wash over me. Luke smiles upon noticing this and takes the keys from my hand. Wordlessly, he presses a kiss to my forehead and then leads me to the passenger side. He opens the door and lets me get in before shutting the door and jogging to the other side.

The car is filled with a comfortable silence, just the crackling of a song playing on the radio filling out the quietness. I rest my head against the headrest and glance at Luke every now and again as he drives Sabrina. He has that one-hand feel on the steering wheel and the other rest comfortably in mine on the gearshift.

“I had a lot of fun today,” I mumble, unable to speak any louder.

A smile etches its way to Luke’s face. “Me too.” He takes a quick glance at me and then lifts our hands to plant a kiss on my knuckles. “Our band’s house is closer, you want to stop there and get us dry before you go home?”

I hum softly, letting my eyes fall shut for a moment. Luke’s thumb grazing the back of my hand almost lulls me to sleep until he curses before the car comes to a halt. He pulls his hand away from mine and when I look up, the driveway and street in front of the enormous white-brick house is filled with dozens of cars.

“Fuck, I forgot about the album wrap party,” he grumbles and then looks over at me. I’m shivering from the cold and exhaustion. “I can’t let you drive home like that.”

I’m unsure if he’s talking to me or pondering out loud, but I shake my head instead. “It’s fine,” I say. “My house isn’t that far away… I think…”

“No, y/n. I’m not letting you drive home exhausted and cold.” His voice is stern, yet laced with a bit of worry. “You’re gonna come in and I’m– I’m gonna bring you up to my room. You can dry off there and maybe take a nap or something. Yeah! Yeah, that’s it!” He sounds way too excited about something so banal.

He hops out of the car and quickly jogs over to my side whilst I’m already opening the door. Before I could react, he tugs me towards the house. I can barely get my bearings or take the time to look where I’m going before I’m pulled into a room.

“There are shirts and joggers in the dresser over there, pick out whichever you like and then take a nap or something. I’ll be back before you know it.” He kisses my cheek and then dashes towards the door.

“You’re just gonna leave me here?”

He lets go of the door handle and slowly turns towards me. His eyes are laced with regret as he takes in the sight in front of him. I must look ridiculous with my hair and clothes wet and bags under my eyes.

“Please, y/n? I can’t have people know about us, okay? I just – can’t…”

Turning on his heel, he opens the door and leaves me in his bedroom all alone. I take a minute to let the information process in my brain before turning around and taking in the room I’m in.

The walls are painted white, except for the one wall behind his bed that’s a muted dark blue. His bed is king size and on either side is a nightstand. I inch closer to the one that’s actually filled with stuff, which I’m assuming is the one he uses most. Nightstand contents often tell a lot about a person. His contains the band’s autobiography, “Bruce Springsteen: All The Songs” and “Beach Read” by Emily Henry, the book I started the other week and shared on Instagram Stories.

Would he have seen that and decided to read it too?

Shaking the ridiculous thought out of my head, I move over to his dresser and take out a pair of joggers and his Rush muscle tank I’ve seen him in many a time during gigs. I peel my drenched clothes off my body and get into Luke’s freshly washed ones. They smell of his laundry products. It’s a fresh and calming scent.

For a while, I look around his room. The books on the shelves and the pictures on the walls, most of which of the band and some of him and Carrie Wilson. There had been a rumor about him dating the Instagram Influencer, but I’d never believed it until I saw her face pop up in some of the framed photos in his room.

I decide to go and venture about the house since all the commotion seems to be outside in the garden. I weave through hallway upon hallway, finding more photos and more things that belong to the band. The living room walls are adorned with platinum records and other awards they’d won over the two years they’d been active in the music industry. I can’t help but feel a sense of pride rush over me. That’s my favorite band right there. That’s the boy I’ve fallen in love with.

“Excuse me – Who are you?”

The voice makes me jump out of my skin. I thought everyone was outside. When I look up, I find the perfectly flawless face of Carrie Wilson. Her long, blonde hair cascades into curls down her shoulders and back while her round, brown eyes stare at me with intent and curiosity.

“Oh, sorry. I’m y/n. I–” I stop myself, remembering Luke didn’t want anyone to know about us. That includes his girlfriend – or ex-girlfriend.

Carrie’s mouth curls up into an amused, curious smile, catching onto what’s happening. “You’re Luke’s new adventure, aren’t you?” I huff out the breath I was holding. It’s a telling huff, I’m sure. “You are��” She trails off and inspects me for a second before continuing. “Just so you know, it’s not going to work. Luke’s too infatuated with this lifestyle of his. He loves his job, he loves his stardom. He loves it too much to ever focus on a partner. Believe me, we tried.”

I exhale at the use of her past tense, but then all the other information downs on me. Luke’s life is so much different from mine. While I work several jobs to pay for college and still live with my dad, he lives by himself and tours the world. He’s too busy to start anything serious with me. Whatever happened in the last few days was just temporary.

“You seem sweet, y/n, so I’m going to be frank. Get out before it’s too late. You’re only gonna get hurt if you’re gonna stay.” As she passes me, she places a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

If my brain wasn’t going a mile a second about everything she’s telling me, I would be caught off guard by how sweet Carrie Wilson is. She’s always portrayed as this complete ego-centric bitch who used people to her advantage.

The exhaustion taking over, I shuffle back upstairs and sit down on Luke’s bed but when I hear the commotion outside die down and guitar strums float through the air into the house, I grow curious. I get up from the bed and make a beeline towards the ceiling-to-floor glass doors that give out onto a balcony. I carefully open the door and step out, the summer breeze tickling my skin while Luke’s voice reaches my ears.

The balcony looks out onto the garden, it’s just out of sight from where everyone’s huddled up around the band. I lean my elbows on the bannister and watch on as Luke’s voice floated through the air.

“I'm no superman I can take your hand And fly you anywhere you wanna go, yeah I can read your mind Like a billboard sign And tell you everything you wanna hear, but I'll be your hero”

I smile at the memory of us in the studio yesterday. The last few days have been perfect. Just… Perfect. And now this girl has to come and ruin it by pulling me back into reality.

“Cause I, I can be everything you need If you're the one for me, like gravity, I'll be unstoppable I, yeah I believe in destiny I may be an ordinary guy without his soul But if you're the one for me Then I'll be a hero Oh, I'll be a hero, yeah I'll be a hero”

It’s not that Carrie isn’t right. She is. Luke is way too busy with the band and his fame and everything around it. He doesn’t have time or room between those things for me. Not for an ordinary girl. Not for anyone.

“So incredible Some kinda miracle That when it's meant to be, I'll become a hero, oh So I'll wait, wait, wait, wait for you”

Luke’s eyes meet mine as he hits that high note and his mouth curls up into that beautiful smile I’ve come to love. Once again, I’ve fallen in love with someone who would never reciprocate those feelings. If I don’t get out now, I’m going to get hurt.

“Yeah I'll be a hero Cause I, I can be everything you need If you're the one for me, like gravity, I'll be unstoppable I, yeah I believe in destiny I may be an ordinary guy without his soul But if you're the one for me I'll be a hero Yeah, yeah I'll be a hero, yeah I'll be a hero Hero”

As the last notes of his song ring out into the night, I grab my still wet clothes and my keys Luke left on the dresser, and then leave the house. My heart breaks with every step I take, but I know it’s what’s best for me. It’s what’s best for both of us. There’s no room for me in his life. Like he said, he’s no superman, he can’t handle this many things at once. Not even a hero would be able to.

Everything taglist:

@wanniiieeee @phantompogues

JATP taglist:

@hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @charliesmountains @thedarkqueenofavalon @calamitykaty @caitsymichelle13 @wiselight @kcd15 @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @stars-soph @kinda-really-lost @notasofti @stellasmusa @n0wornever @kaitieskidmore1 @tefilovesreading @pxperphxntom @crybabyddl @crybabyddl @headheartbellarke @authentic-gillespie @happinessinthedarkesttimes @bright-molina @rangerelik @cordeliascrown @willex-owns-my-heart @fangirlangioma @frickin-bats @flower-name @jaskiers-sweetkiss @jandthephantoms @kelpwithawhy @the-hufflepuff-hunter @lookingthroughmirrors @buckybarnesishot310 @echocharm17618 @littlemissaddict @mystic-writings @joynerxmercer @brooke0297 @magicalxdaydream @musicianspiritsblog @bexxy @ruvaitkevicius @whitetigerlover17 @stressyanddepressysimp @talk-on-the-street @theolivekiddo @sunsetcurvej @teti-menchon0604 @candycornmgg @gray_jato

Charlie/Luke taglist:

@lukeys-giggle @gingerxarmy @lovesanimals @lolychu @perfectlywrongformend3s @luckylouiebug @camiladelrio98 @myfriendscallmebeans @rachmmb @whitemanshoe19 @killerqueenfan

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatpsongficfeb #luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson fic #luke jatp #luke patterson x fem!reader #modern!au #StarStruck

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soldierswar · 3 years

Text

Kobik - Chapter V

Bucky X Reader

Fluff, angst

Warnings: Violence

Chapter Summary: Bucky and Sam are still away leaving you and Kobik on your own. Soon, you learn that the two of you may not be as safe as you thought you were. And you learn a little more about how Kobik uses her powers.

Masterlist (For previous/future chapters)

“Wait, no!” you exclaimed.

“You have to slide like this.”

You demonstrated the move starting off with the run and sliding down the wood floor sideways.

Kobik giggled.

“You can’t slide forward. That’s how you fall, kid!”

You were teaching her the Tom Cruise slide from ‘Risky Business', and having fun with it for the past hour or so determined to keep going until you both got it down.

She tried again wearing your socks that were obviously too big for her, but perfect for sliding. And once again she didn’t quite get it causing her to fall forward. She would have made full-face plants, but right before she’d hit the floor she’d begin to hover and bring herself back to a standing position. Honestly, you were pretty sure that the falling part was her favourite. You couldn’t blame her. Since she wasn’t actually getting hurt, watching her do it might have been your favourite part too.

The music that you were playing was so loud that you almost missed the sound of your buzzing phone on the table. It was Bucky.

You went to go pause it, but before you got to it Kobik managed to use her telepathic powers to turn it off.

Typical.

It had been three days since Bucky and Sam left. And if it weren’t for him calling at least once a day, you would have been a bit worried.

“Hey, Y/N,” Bucky answered before you even had a chance to say anything.

“What’s up?” you asked.

“You and Sam find anything yet?”

You could hear a light sigh come from him. He sounded tired.

“We think we’re close.”

“Think?” you questioned.

“We’re pretty sure we’re close to figuring out who they are and what they want. We just need to figure out how to stop them before they go any further in their heavy search for her.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You had almost forgotten that the reason that Kobik was with you in the first place was because people actually wanted to hurt her.

“How’s she doing?”

Suddenly there was a squeal coming from behind you followed by a loud,

“I got it!”

Bucky chuckled.

“Should I ask?”

“Just…dancing,” you snorted.

“How are you guys doing?”

Suddenly you heard Sam’s voice shouting in the background.

“Tell your husband to stop being an irrational asshole so we can get through the next 24 hours in one piece!”

You let out a groan.

“Sorry I have you on speakerphone.”

You ignored that statement.

“Do I really want to know?”

Bucky awkwardly cleared his throat.

“Nothing you need to worry about, doll.”

Doll. He only used that when he was trying to suck up to you in the worst way possible.

Apparently, the two were headed to the airport in the countryside of Sweden and Bucky was driving.

“And how are…you?” he asked. His voice was a little bit apprehensive, and you knew why.

“I mean—”

“We’re both fine,” you reassured. You both knew that you weren’t talking about you and Kobik.

“That’s good.”

You could sense a little bit of a smile in his voice along with a covert sound of relief.

“Have you called…I mean have you talked to…”

“Bucky,” you interrupted.

“Just get home in one piece, and we’ll get everything sorted out then okay?”

“What’s she talking about?” you heard in the background.

“Nothing,” Bucky replied annoyedly.

You playfully rolled your eyes. You knew he was going to keep this a secret for at least a little while longer.

You decided to let him go hoping that he would rest some rest on the plane ride back. When you said your goodbyes Kobik floated into your arms like a feather and said a quick hi, and bye. And before hanging up you also demanded Sam kick your husband’s ass if he didn’t behave. Sam happily agreed.

When you finally hung up you turned your head to an excited Kobik.

“Alright kiddo,” you said.

“Hit the play button.”

………………………………….

Kobik was surprisingly cuddly. And considering the fact that you were chronically sleepy nowadays, you couldn’t complain.

Despite the fact that it was only 5 pm, you didn’t want to move at all. And thankfully you didn’t have to. You laid on your side on the couch with SpongeBob playing on TV as Kobik slept cozily with her back against you.

You felt your phone buzz in your back pocket. When you took it out you saw a text message from Bucky asking if you were home.

You decided that you didn’t really feel like texting so you just picked up the phone and called him.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Y/N, thank God. I was just about to call you.”

His voice sounded panicked.

“Are you at home right now?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” you croaked.

Kobik stirred a little bit at the sound of your voice.

“I need you to get out, now,” he stressed.

“Wait, what?”

“I don’t have time to explain. Just head to our spot and be in the car within the next two min—”

Suddenly his voice was interrupted by a bullet shattering a window and hitting the kitchen counter.

Within an instant, Kobik was awake and alert.

“They’re here,” she said, grabbing you to jump behind the couch with her for shelter. She put her finger to her mouth signaling for you to keep her mouth shut.

Suddenly two men entered the apartment treading carefully.

“You think he’s here?” one guy in a blue shirt asked from the far corner away from you.

They were about 20 feet away from you with their backs turned to you. They were one motion away from seeing you. Actually, when you thought about it, it seemed unlikely that wouldn’t have seen you by now. And Kobik was uncharacteristically calm. And that’s when you noticed.

There was an almost invisible blue silhouette surrounding the two of you. Like a bubble; or some type of force field.

“Can they see us?” you mouthed.

She looked around her watching the two men passing back and forth in front of you.

She slowly shook her head.

“Do you really think that we’d still be alive right now if The Winter Soldier was in any close vicinity to us?” the other guy in a grey shirt answered.

“But the bigger question is where that little moneybag is. Kid killed my old partner. Weak-ass. How dangerous can a four-year-old with some powers be?”

Was that what they were calling Kobik? A moneybag? How much was she going out for like she was some inanimate jewel?

You took your phone out making sure that it was completely silent and began typing in the notes.

“Can we move while invisible?”

She nodded nervously.

You watched their patterns of movement and figured out how you were going to get to your bedroom which was where your gun was.

You wrote in your notes again.

“My room. Now.”

“Seriously, is anyone actually in here?” blue shirt whined.

Grey shirt shushed him and pointed to the keys laid out on the table near the front door, and your purse on the floor. It was obvious that someone was home.

He signaled him to stand on the other end of your office door which just happened to be the door across from your bedroom. They both counted down from three with their guns held tight in their hands anticipating some type of ambush and opened the door, storming in.

You took that as your queue and mouthed the words,

“Go.”

You bolted towards your bedroom and grabbed the case that held your gun. Kobik didn’t leave your side maintaining the illusion of invisibility.

After grabbing it you carefully walked out keeping Kobik close behind you. You saw that they were still in your office debating on who was going to open the closet door.

You took the opportunity of calm to fire three shots at the most dangerous-looking one and bolted back to the living room.

You couldn’t see who or where you shot exactly, but you could tell by the cries that you hit one of them.

One of them said something that you couldn’t quite hear. But the other one hollered,

“I just got hit in the fucking shoulder, you idiot!”

It sounded like grey shirt. Mission accomplished.

You almost smiled a little bit. Bucky was not going to let you be married to him without learning how to defend yourself to your best ability.

That was when you noticed that Kobik wasn’t at your side anymore. You began to panic.

“Kobik?” you whispered.

You turned to your left and found her in a corner under the counter of the kitchen. Keyword…You could see her.

Before you had time to get to her two bullets zoomed past your head by at least ten inches. You shot right back at whoever was hiding behind the office door trying to get you. Before he could fire another round you managed to shoot him right in the hand making him drop the gun. You ran over to Kobik to see if she was okay. Her terror was beginning to set in. Her hands shook, and her eyes were red trying to hold back tears and be brave.

“Are you okay?” you whispered.

And suddenly her eyes went from scared to terrified. That was when you noticed the reflection of a man in her eyes, and he was just about to shoot.

Kobik made a soft intricate motion with her hands, and just as she did the entire room transformed right before your eyes. Just like what had happened a few nights ago, this wasn’t your apartment anymore. This was that lab again.

She managed to separate the both of you from the other guys by a wall. You were now in a completely different room. She began to run towards a small door in the far right corner from you and waved her hand to make you follow.

You ran into the room and without using her hands she slammed the door shut and locked it. You were in a tiny room. There was a little bed in a corner along with a few toys, and a dresser to put clothes in. But it also looked and felt like a panic room.

“It’s okay now,” she said breathlessly.

“They can’t hurt us here. The wall's bulletproof, and they can’t see the door or hear us.”

“How do you know that?”

But when you looked into her eyes you knew the answer.

You let out a huge sigh of relief and wrapped your arms around her. She had been so good at keeping calm since the men entered, but as you started rocking her, her body began to shake.

“It’s happening again,” she whimpered.

You pulled away and placed your hands on her wet cheeks.

“Listen, kid,” you said.

“We’re gonna keep you safe. And I’m not going anywhere.”

She began to cry even more. But now she didn’t seem scared. She seemed almost relieved. She trusted you. And trusted that maybe just maybe, you were right.

…

Half an hour passed you and Kobik were laying face-up on the comfortable carpeted floor. For a room that was made up in 0.5 seconds, she really knew how to make her surroundings comfortable.

About 10 minutes ago you began to hear faint noises on the other side of the door. A bang here, a bang there, maybe someone yelling. You wondered if more people were coming in to look for you. Whoever it was, they didn’t sound happy. Maybe a boss or someone was yelling at them for losing the two of you. But you weren’t scared. As Kobik said, you were safe.

“Y/N,” Kobik said pulling your phone that she had just found from under the bed.

“I think this is yours.”

You shook your head and smiled. You knew that you must have dropped it, but you didn’t know that it followed you.

You remembered the last time that you had spoken to Bucky and how panicked his voice sounded right before bullets came flying through your windows. You couldn’t imagine how scared he must be. Or if even he was okay. The last time that you had heard from him was about 14 hours ago and he was about to fly back from Sweden.

You turned it back on to find 27 missed calls from both Bucky and Sam.

Right before you had a chance to call Bucky, Sam’s number popped up as he was calling. But you still had to be cautious.

“Who is this?”

“Who do you think it is?”

A huge sigh of relief escaped you.

“Are you guys okay?” he continued.

“We’re inside the um…apartment? And we can’t find you.”

Kobik seemed nervous to let your secret spot go.

“Just tell us where you are. Bucky’s currently interrogating two bleeding guys that he just handcuffed. I’m guessing that you had a little something to do with that?”

You snorted. But knew you definitely had to get out before any unnecessarily serious damage was done.

You nodded at Kobik telling her that it was okay. The coast was clear. And she trusted you. With one swift motion with her hand, the door flew open.

Sam was coincidentally in the same room as you guys but was startled when you opened the door.

“Shit!” he exclaimed.

“How did you guys…where did that door come from?” he then looked down at Kobik. His mouth opened and confusedly tilted his head.

“Y/N makes that face a lot too,” was the first thing that she said.

Under different circumstances, you definitely would have burst into laughter. But all you could do was walk over and hug him.

“Are you guys okay?” he asked looking you and Kobik up and down looking for any injuries looking relieved when you both seemed okay.

“Sam?” Bucky called from afar?

“They might still be—”

That’s when Kobik used her powers again and brought everything back to normal. In fact, everything that was damaged in the first place was also back to normal.

When everything was back in place you were in the same room as Bucky.

When he turned around, you had never seen anyone so relieved in his entire life. You ran towards him and he held on to you tighter than he had ever held on before.

“Y/N,” he gasped.

“Oh my God.”

“You know if you weren’t my husband I’d be sending you a medical bill for the cracked ribs,” you winced.

“What?”

He pulled away thinking that you were actually injured before realizing how hard he was squeezing you.

“When were you going to tell me that you landed?”

He shook his head

“I tried.”

You then remembered all of the unread messages that you had received while napping.

Right.

“Bucky!” Kobik exclaimed.

She had been distracted talking to Sam about what had just happened.

He smiled and let her jump into his arms.

“She’s a really brave girl this one,” you pointed out.

“I was lucky to have her.”

"Y/N I'm so sorry I never should have--'

You shushed him and reassured him.

"It's okay," you said.

"We're all fine. That's all that matters."

That didn't stop the expression of guilt in his eyes.

"Besides," you added and winked.

"You thought me well."

Bucky shook his head and brought you close hugging you and Kobik at the same time.

“I’m sorry to break up your little Hallmark moment,” Sam interrupted pointing to the two guys on the floor that were in fact cuffed, and bleeding on your wood floors and against the back of your couch.

“But we have unfinished business.”

Tagged: @teenagedreams-bucky @typicalnerd98 @veroxloki @white-wolf-buckaroo @acciosiriusblack @pastel-boy-sungjae @flightsandfantasy @noiralei @unstablesleepygal

#bucky x reader #bucky x reader fluff #bucky x reader angst #bucky x pregnant!reader #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x pregnant!reader #captain america #captain america fanfic #captain america civil war #captain america the winter soldier #the falcon and the winter solider spoilers #kobik #kobik x reader #bucky x kobik #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #pregnant!reader #reader

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damienthepious · 4 years

Text

it’s too goddamn cold&snowy here right now so i dove back into my summer-y-est fic <3

Made A Garden (chapter 4)

[ch 1] [ch 2] [ch 3] [ao3]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Rilla

Characters: Rilla, Lord Arum, Rilla’s Parents, The Keep

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, (categorized as ‘other’ bc arum is nonbinary when i write him bye), Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, POV Alternating, canon typical Arum ignoring feelings, edited to feature my Rilla’s Two Dads theory

Fic Summary: Rilla’s parents take her out when they do field work. She’s a smart kid, and she knows how not to get in trouble when they’re caught up with their experiments and research. This time, they’ve taken her to an enormous, beautiful swamp, and their theory is that the monstrous presence in this place should be entirely dormant- which is why Rilla is so surprised, when she meets a monster for herself.

Chapter Summary: A conversation, an argument, and an interruption.

Notes: Please appreciate these children. Please. I care them................ also idk if this needs warning for, really, but i guess chapter warning for an adult Being An Asshole to a child? yeah.

"Why did you decide to start actually talking to me?" Rilla asks, laying lazily back on the thick trunk of a fallen tree, her hand draped to trail fingers in the slow-moving water beneath it.

Arum looks away from her, sinking his face further into the water for a long moment before he rises enough to answer.

"Well..." he says slowly, "when I determined that you and your... kin posed nothing of a threat-"

"Which I told you the first time we met," she interrupts in a chirp, and Arum scowls up at her until she laughs. His snout twitches then, a tell she's beginning to suspect means that he's burying a laugh of his own, and then the monster sighs.

"Which I needed to have proven, for the safety of my lands and my own self," he amends, hissing. "I decided that you should have an eye kept on you."

"And..." Rilla tilts her head back, her long braid rolling off the log enough that the end dips into the water beneath her. "You decided to do that yourself?"

Arum raises an eyebrow. "Who else would?"

She shrugs, her shoulder pressing against the bark beneath her. "Mm, I dunno? I just figured- you're the Lord of this place, right?"

"I am," he says, stiff and proud.

"So, I figured you'd, like, have someone else you could send, if you wanted to keep an eye on us?"

Arum growls, though he looks more sullen than angry at the assumption. "Perhaps I simply didn't want to risk any of my subjects in the effort, just in case I was wrong about you."

"In case..." she trails off, and then she blinks. "So, what, you'd risk yourself, first?"

"I can take care of myself," he snaps, his frill flaring quick enough to splash a little halo of water around his face for a moment, rippling across the surface of the pond. "And- and a good ruler is concerned for his subjects before himself, anyway. That is my entire purpose."

Rilla tilts her head a bit more, trying to get a better look at the vague purple blush coloring the webbing of his frill. "Huh," she says, and then his words sink in a bit more. "But- if you got yourself hurt-"

"I can take care of myself," he spits again, and she frowns.

"But if," she insists, "if something bad happened, who would take care of the swamp, then?"

Arum scowls up at her, and then he ducks his head beneath the water entirely. For a second she thinks that he's just going to disappear again, and she sits up, the wet tip of her braid flicking water along her arm, but then Arum reemerges a few feet down the log. He flings himself out of the water like a salmon, then pulls himself onto the log ahead in front of her, easy and oddly elegant.

"You," he growls, glaring at her with his claws digging into the bark, "ask altogether too many questions."

"Is... is that an observation?" she asks slowly, "or do you- do you want me to-"

He exhales an exaggerated huff, then sits back on the log and lets his tail drape over the side. "You may do whatever you want," he says, not for the first time, "so long as you understand that I may do the same. Meaning that I will not answer, if I don't feel like doing so."

Rilla pulls one of her legs up, hugging her knee against her chest and letting her other leg dangle. "Yeah," she says, and then she grins. "Yeah, you've kinda made that pretty obvious by now."

"Good," he mutters, and then he flicks his tail in the water, splashing her leg.

She laughs again, surprised, and Arum's snout twitches.

"Okay," she says. "Okay, mister secrets, I'm totally and completely informed that you're not gonna answer anything you don't want to, but you have to know that I'm still not gonna stop asking." She grins, and the monster frowns at her, and then sighs in an exaggerated way and looks off towards the edge of the pond instead. "So unless you're gonna tell me to stop-"

"I rule my swamp, Amaryllis. Obviously I do not rule you. As I said, you may-"

"Do whatever I want," she parrots, bouncing her head back and forth. "You don't ask questions basically at all, do you?"

"If you wished to tell me about yourself, you would," Arum answers with a shrug, and then- he smirks. Rilla doesn't think she's seen that particular look on his face before, actually. "In fact," he continues, "you have. I don't need to ask, Amaryllis. You are perfectly content to share the bland details of humanity without any prodding whatsoever."

"Humans aren't bland," Rilla says. "Just because you're bored all the time doesn't make everything else boring, it just means you aren't looking hard enough."

"Tell me something interesting, then," he says, leaning his head back and draping himself dramatically across the log, and for half a second he almost reminds her of Marc. She buries a laugh at the idea of the two of them meeting - Tal would get along with Arum better, she thinks - and thoughtfully drums her fingers off her chin.

"What sorts of things do you actually like?" she asks. "I'll be less likely to bore you if I know that much, at least."

The monster rumbles in his chest without opening his eyes, then makes a humming noise. "Blade combat," he says simply. "Music. Pollinators. Translations and ciphers. Questions within questions."

Rilla purses her lips for a moment. "Questions?"

"Indeed."

"So- wait. No, no- we just talked about this. You don't like questions."

Arum glances up at her, then, his mouth curling into a frown. "I think I know better than you do, what I like."

"If you liked questions, you wouldn't get so annoyed at me when I asked them."

"I don't dislike your questions," he says, sitting up again. "I dislike that you assume that all of them will be answered. A decent question will only lead to further questions, and trying to neatly tie anything to a single, simple solution will only reduce a thing from its true nature to a caricature of itself."

"If you can never find the answers, then how are any of the questions useful?"

"It's not about usefulness," he says. "It's about understanding, both the nature of inquiry itself and your own small place in the infinite."

Rilla frowns hard. "Those were a bunch of big words that mostly seemed to mean basically nothing."

Arum blinks, then gives a shocked, incredulous laugh. "How- how dare-"

"Even if a question leads to a bigger question, a bigger question is still an answer, Arum. Knowing that you don't know enough is still an answer. That's just- that's all just dumb semantics."

Arum sputters for a moment, then narrows his eyes. "I would say, I think, that the argument that a question is an answer is far more a matter of dumb semantics than the assertion that not all questions have answers, Amaryllis. You simply do not know what you're talking about."

"If you're not even trying to get to the bottom of the questions you ask, then maybe you're the one who doesn't know what you're talking about," Rilla says, and Arum scowls again, more viciously this time. "I think it's better to actually know things, instead of just- making everything even more confusing. Isn't the world already confusing enough?"

"Maybe for creatures as petty and small-minded as humans," Arum growls low, but as he opens his mouth to continue-

There's a noise. Unexpected, and out of place enough that it takes Rilla a moment to recognize it.

A small whinny, not all that far off.

When Rilla meets Arum's eyes again she knows he heard it too. He looks exactly as scared as she feels.

"Hide," she hisses, and Arum's wide eyes go wider.

"You hide," he snarls, slipping off the log and back into the water. "It could be anyone, you don't know-"

"Horse could mean knight," Rilla snaps, and Arum's frill flattens against his neck. "Just hide and-"

The brush at the edge of the pond rustles, and Rilla hears Arum gasp before he slips beneath the surface entirely, and Rilla holds her breath as she turns to see whatever pushes through the foliage at the edge of the pond.

Rilla doesn't think she's ever been less happy to be correct, before. The knight frowns down at her from beneath his helmet and atop his sandy-brown horse, and Rilla tries to lean into her surprise so the guilt hopefully won't show.

"Oh!" she says, pressing a hand to her chest as she scrambles to stand on the log. "Oh, I- you scared me! I didn't hear you, and-"

The knight narrows his eyes, and Rilla realizes that his hand is resting on the pommel of his sword as his gaze sweeps suspiciously across the shore.

"What is a little girl like you doing out in the wilds all by yourself?" the knight says slowly, and Rilla-

Rilla isn't the best at reading people, but something about the way his mouth curls, the way his eyes stay suspiciously narrowed, something tells her that his tone is less concerned for her, and more concerned by her.

"Oh," she says, and she tries to smile. "Well, I'm not by myself," she says. "My parents are- they're not far."

"Hm," the knight says, and then he swings himself down out of the saddle.

Rilla takes the moment to glance down, and- and she has to hold herself very very still to keep from flinching when she realizes that Arum is still in the water beneath her. She was certain that he'd be- completely gone by now, safe and away and- and she widens her eyes at him quickly while the knight is still busy with the horse, and she jerks her head to the side, trying to tell him- get out of here, obviously, get away-

But Arum glares up at her, his violet eyes furious, and then he jerks his own snout towards the knight.

"Who were you talking to?"

Rilla jolts, wobbling on the log before she regains her footing.

"Wh-what? I- I don't know what you're-"

"I heard voices. Who were you talking to?" the knight repeats, his hand still on his pommel even after dismounting.

His eyes are icy and sharp and unsettling, and Rilla decides that she's really, really glad that she's out in the middle of the pond, instead of on the shore with him.

"I-" Rilla pauses, then lowers her eyes, shuffling her feet as if embarrassed. "I was talking to myself," she says quietly. "I know I shouldn't-"

"You were shouting at yourself?" the knight drawls, dubious, and Rilla tries to smile. If it comes out awkward- well, that'll work too, right?

"Y-yeah. I was- I was making up an argument? I- I'm not good at- at arguing for real, so I like to- to practice? Sometimes? When I'm on my own?"

"Well," the knight mutters, looking away, "I believe you're not good at talking, at least."

Rilla swallows, ducking her head, and-

And in the water beneath her, Arum rolls his eyes hard enough to make a little ripple on the surface above him, and then he makes a face as if he's gagging on a piece of rotten fruit. Rilla presses her lips together tight, choking down an almost overpowering urge to laugh.

"Your parents," the knight says, and Rilla's eyes flick back up from the water to his sullen, stubborn face instead. "They let you wander around in monster-infested wilderness all by yourself, then?"

"They- um. I mean- this place is pretty safe, and- and they aren't far."

"That's what you said before,"

"Do-" Rilla swallows. "Do you want me to- to call them? I can- I have a whistle, I can-"

The knight seems to consider this, looking her up and down as if checking for weapons and then scanning his eyes around the shore again quickly, and then he adjusts his stance, his frame tensing before he nods. "I think you had better, little girl. Go on, whistle for them."

Does he think that I'm a monster? Rilla thinks, feeling maybe just the littlest bit panicked, and then she raises her hand to her neck to lift the whistle.

They have a whole system, Rilla and her parents, for the emergency whistle. There's a call for monster, there's a call for injured, a call for someone else injured, a call for not-an-emergency-but-you'll-really-wanna-see-this-right-now-it's-cool, a call for I'm lost, among others. Rilla doesn't use any of those right now, though, because her parents don't think about magic and medicine exactly the same way that the King does, so-

Rilla lifts the whistle to her lips, and she gives the call that means that she's spotted a knight nearby.

The knight tenses further, as if he's fully expecting to be swarmed or something, and when nothing immediately jumps to attack him he glares at Rilla again. She- barely manages to fake a smile, certain that she must just look like she's showing teeth at this point, but it takes less than a minute for her dad to come bolting out of the underbrush on the far side of the pond.

"Rilla- Rilla what's wrong?" he says in a rush, and he's always been a better actor than Rilla or her papa. When he swings his eyes across the pond and 'notices' the knight, the flash of surprise on his face looks entirely genuine. "Oh- oh, I'm so sorry, Sir-"

"Sir Caradoc," he says, his expression bemused (surprised, Rilla thinks, that she was telling the truth) despite his flat, toneless voice. "The Dauntless."

"An honor," her dad says, smiling sharply, "and what a surprise to meet a knight this far from the Citadel! What- Rilla, why did you..."

He trails off, his sharp on her own, and Rilla manages a weak smile of her own. "He- he was- worried? That I was out here all on my own, so- so I wanted- I wanted to show him that I was- that you were here, if I was got in trouble."

Her dad exhales, something like a sigh, and then he nods and turns his attention back to Sir Caradoc. "Well, I'm glad nothing's wrong, at the least. Thank you so much for looking out for my daughter out here, Sir Caradoc. Please- would you come back to camp with us? I'm sure you're out here on important business, but the least we could do is get a hot meal in you before you've gotta be on your way, right?"

Caradoc raises an eyebrow, but after a moment his lip turns up into a very slight smile, and he nods.

"It'd be a pleasant change of pace," he says. "Been weeks since I've had a meal I didn't cook myself, and I'll admit I'm not as good with a ladle as I am with my sword."

Her dad's smile goes wider and more forced at the reminder of the weapon, but he laughs lightly anyway. "Great! Rilla, c'mon back to shore, now. We might not be home, but we've got company to look out for, yeah?"

Rilla nods, plastering on a smile that she hopes looks as honest as her dad's, and then she- she aims herself so she won't land right on top of Arum, and she hops into the water.

When she's under the surface she cracks her eyes open, and Arum is- closer than she expects. His eyes are narrowed and bright, even through the murk of the water, and when she makes a vague get out of here motion with her hands, he scowls even harder, and then he reaches out and grips one of her wrists. He flicks his eyes towards the surface, then back towards Rilla, and he squeezes lightly before he lets her go again, retreating further down into the muddy detritus at the bottom of the pond.

Rilla gives him one more glance (she can barely see him, obviously he knows exactly how to blend in), and then she kicks her way back to the surface, and then over to the edge of the water where her dad can reach down and lift her back out.

Her dad keeps hold of her hand when she's back on shore, and he squeezes soothingly as Sir Caradoc leads his horse around the pond to join them, trampling through the brush with authoritative carelessness.

"We'll be fine," her dad says under his breath, before the knight will be able to hear them again, and Rilla nods.

She already knew that, actually. She knows they'll be fine, because her papa is clever and her dad is confident and charismatic. She knows they'll be fine because her dad is holding her hand.

As Sir Caradoc comes closer, batting aside a hanging branch and wearing his bland, professional smile, Rilla thinks about Arum's hand, too. She thinks about the odd texture of his scales against her skin, the way he frowned when he squeezed her wrist, the intensity of his eyes under the water.

Rilla is pretty sure - pretty sure - that what he actually meant to say with that little squeeze was be careful.

Pretty good advice, Rilla thinks, if the coldness in Sir Caradoc's eyes above that smile is anything to go by.

#elle's fanfic #the penumbra podcast #second citadel #rad bouquet #lizard kissin' tuesday #lord arum #amaryllis of exile #made a garden #🥺🥺🥺 they are BABIE.

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changeling-mama · 4 years

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Cheeky Chickens 01

@ice-demigod-skrael, @flamekeeperbellroc

Are you sure she is here?

She must be. Where else would such strong magic reside?

And she will not suspect our presence?

Not in the least.

Jane had brought Lady Blanche Rabbit and The Good Dragon to school. It was their turn out of the toybox, after all, and she had two whole empty seats next to her. After kissing her mother bye-bye for the day, she spent a good many minutes arranging a few books on the chairs so that The Good Dragon could see over the desk. He was even shorter than Jane, after all, and even the smallest, fluffiest student deserved to see the board.

Through the bustle and chatter, a bell tinkled, signaling the start of class. Obediently, the students quieted down and faced the front where Miss Lenore stood besides her own grown-up sized desk.

“Good morning, little farm animals!”

The class answered in a variety of animal sounds. including Jane in her own little voice. She was the smallest in the class by far, but she’d at least try to keep up with the others.

“Whoa, that’s a lot of animals out on the farm today! Let’s see.” She raised a hand as if to shield her eyes from the sun, making a show of counting the number of students. “Let me check. Are all my grumpy goats here? Hello, grumpy goats?”

A table of five children sat below a laminated drawing of a goat. The children baa’ed.

“Good job. Now how about my captivating cows? Are all my captivating cows present?”

Another table moo’ed and lowed.

“And my pleasant piggies?”

Oinking from the respective team.

“All right, looks like everyone is here but -- wait. Where are my cheeky chickens?”

Jane in the back pulled Lady Blanche Rabbit into her chest, unsure if it was really necessary to cluck out loud. She was the only one at the table, even though there were other empty seats at the other three locations. It was clear she was present.

Miss Lenore, however, seemed to decide that it wasn’t good enough. She raised a hand to her ear, and raised an eyebrow. “Huh. That’s strange. I didn’t hear any cheeky chickens, and I know we have one. Where’s my last chicken hiding?”

Jane flushed, and buried her face in the rabbit. She inhaled, half-wishing to disappear before Miss Lenore said anything else when --

“We were not hiding! We were simply late.”

All eyes shot to the front, including Jane’s. There stood two taller kids, one with a shock of white hair and blue as can be, and the other one had hair so rad that it made her think a little bit of a volcano.

Neither of them had backpacks, but the blue one handed Miss Lenore a slip of paper. “I do beg your forgiveness,” he said. “We got lost on the way here from … um.” They looked to at the red one, who seemed to be busy scanning the classroom to help.

Then, after a moment, the red one realized, and piped up, searching for words. “From...the office.”

“Yes -- yes the office. We are new here.”

“Yes. New students.”

“In your class.”

“This class.”

“And we are cheeky chickens indeed.”

Miss Lenore said nothing for a moment. She looked at them both. The blue one, with their heavy black coat, and the red one with their thick, dark glasses. She had never looked so lost, and Jane found herself wondering if these were even kids at all. They looked almost like cartoons brought to life, with how brightly they were colored. Within moments, however, Miss Lenore collected herself and nodded. “It says here your names are Bellroc and Skrael?”

The pair nodded in turn. Bellroc was the red one. Skrael, the blue.

“Do you have a last name?”

“Foolish mortal,” Bellroc declared. “Those are our names. First, last, and only.”

“Well!” Miss Lenore gasped, just as Skrael elbowed Bellroc in the side. “I don’t know what your parents taught you, but we don’t use insults here.”

“What?” they hissed, eyes on Skrael, then, realizing their mistake, they turned back to Miss Lenore with gritted teeth. “Oh. Excuse me. Our … parents … told me I have to learn to be nicer.”

“Which is why we are here,” added Skrael.

“Yes. We are here. To learn.”

Miss Lenore fumbled. “Right. Of course.”

“Now, good instructor, teach us to be, as you say, cheeky chickens.”

Miss Lenore coughed, and nodded, suddenly turning bubbly and bright once more and turned to the class. “Excellent. We do actually have some space available in our chicken coop. Do I have a volunteer to help these two find their seats?”

At the table, the other two kids looked pointedly away. Jane found herself the only one still facing forward, if half-hidden behind a stuffed rabbit. She still struggled to speak, but, with more strength than needed to push a mountain, she managed to lift one of Lady Blanche Rabbit’s hands.

Miss Lenore clapped. “Excellent job, Jane. Kids, why don’t you two go over there and let Jane help you get ready. I have to, um. I have to go ask a few questions. Can you all sit tight for ten minutes?”

The class all nodded.

“Great job! Now, you two go get your seats and I’ll be right back.”

“We can see the chairs clearly ourselves,” Bellroc announced.

“Of course. I see you're two very clever kids.”

And with that, Miss Lenore made her way out one door. In came a high school student, decked out in dark colors and countless bracelets.

“All right, animals. You know the drill. No noise, or else I tell. Okay?”

“Okay, Sam,” the kids intoned.

Sure enough, Sam dropped into Miss Lenore’s chair, slapped a pair of headphones on, and began to bob their heads to music. Skrael made a note to inspect their music-making device later, but Bellroc was already on their way across the room. He rushed to catch up.

All eyes were on the pair as they made their way to the table furthest from the board, backed by a bookcase and a row of cubbies with children’s names on them. Jane, afraid of being teased for having two stuffed animals that day, stood up to clear off The Good Dragon’s seat of books and hide him carefully away in her little cubby.

“I’ll see you at lunch. Be good, and I love you,” she whispered, and kissed his forehead before turning back to see the two new kids standing over her chair.

“What’s that?” Skrael asked.

“It looks like some sort of child’s toy,” said Bellroc.

“This is a child’s place of work. Everything here is a child’s toy.” Ignoring the stares, Skrael reached out to grab the toy by the ear, but he’d barely reached it when --

“Don’t touch her!” Jane darted over, scooping up the rabbit and squeezing her tight. “She doesn’t like being touched by strangers.”

Skrael chuckled, but Bellroc leaned forward, inspecting the rabbit. “Does she? This toy has feelings and preferences?”

“Yeah.” Jane nodded, looking down to smooth out the rabbit’s fur. “Her name is Lady Blanche Rabbit. She’s kind of shy, but she likes to brush her ears, and her favorite food is star-shaped sprinkles, and her dad is the king of a secret forest. She came here to save her people, but she has to do it in disguise.”

“Fascinating.” They stood up, pulling Skrael in close to whisper. “Do you know what this means, Skrael?”

“That this is going to be hilarious?”

“No-- you fool. Focus. This child has trapped the soul of a noble in her toy.”

Skrael’s eyes lit up, and he turned to Bellroc. “An infant necromancer.”

Bellroc grinned. “Or a warlock.”

“Either way, useful.”

“Indeed, and --”

“Excuse me,” Jane said, finally drawing their attention back to the room. “We’re not allowed to tell secrets in class. It makes people feel left out.”

Skrael put on their best smile. “Of course. You must forgive us, we are still new to the ways of this world.”

Jane nodded. “I understand. My mom’s from Europe. She says it’s hard to get used to new places. Are you from Europe?”

A pause. Then, Bellroc nodded. “Yes….we’re from Europe. How clever of you to know.”

Jane smiled. “That’s so cool. I bet you know a lot of languages. Um. You can sit next to me, if you want. There’s two chairs right there.”

In fact, there were four. Bellroc and Skrael chose the ones directly across from Jane, and grinned. “You probably know a lot about this place, don’t you, Jane?” Bellroc asked.

She nodded. “I know a little bit, yeah.”

“And, seeing as we are new and From Europe, you would not be against teaching us, would you?”

Another nod, more hesitant. “If you want, I can teach you.”

“We promise not to touch your Lady Blanche,” Skrael added.

“Lady Blanche Rabbit,” Jane corrected. “She likes her full name to be used.

Skrael snickered. “A more than understandable request. Lady Blanche Rabbit, it is a pleasure.” He inclined his head into a mocking bow.

Jane manipulated the rabbit’s hand to make it wave back. “She can’t talk, but I think she thinks you’re cool.”

Another snicker. “Lady Blanche Rabbit, you have no idea.”

#fic #jane #jane ic #drabble #ice demigod skrael #flamekeeperbellroc

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 4 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n: something something strictly rewrite something something pls love me something something love u bye. in all seriousness thank u for reading and bearing with me in amongst this clusterfuck…next chapter is the last of the rewrites and so a new one coming ur way within the next week!

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

3rd October 2020

Vanessa takes a deep, nervous breath and looks to the ceiling. The disco ball hangs high from it and creates tiny little square reflections, chunks of glitter against the light rigging. The lights themselves are purple and blue, matching those that snake along the balcony and up the stairs and arch over the huge projection of the show’s title card at the other end of the room. There’s another projection, a yellow one that dances across the shiny lacquered ballroom floor as if it’s practising too. The judges’ table is silver and glittering and intimidating to Vanessa’s right, despite the fact that none of the judges are even sitting at it yet. The band and singers are all set up underneath the huge arch of the stairs that Vanessa has practised walking down with Brooke and the other girls and knows she’ll be walking down again in just a few hours’ time.

“Right, Brooke and Vanessa, please. You’re up!”

A little “woo!” goes up from the couples assembled in the dark shadows of the empty studio. Peppermint and Shea are leaning with their backs against a pillar, their eyes supportive but analytical. Crystal and Gigi are sitting in some of the chairs at the far back row, clapping loudly with each new routine they manage to see and whispering to each other secretively between dances. Yvie and Scarlet are both in the front row off to one side, as Jaida and Plastique are off getting some last tweaks done to their costumes. They don’t seem to mind that their partners are away and are talking excitedly to each other, Yvie every so often making Scarlet laugh so hard that she reaches out and grabs her arm or knee or hand. And Monet and Monique are on the chairs behind Vanessa and Brooke, currently screeching their heads off and pushing them forward onto the dancefloor.

It’s Saturday, the day of their first show. It’s half past four and the sky had just been starting to take on that threateningly Autumnal look halfway between grey and navy when Vanessa had arrived at Elstree studios with Akeria, her friend having to listen to her excited babbling at the thought of getting to actually participate in the competition for the first time. Vanessa hadn’t stopped talking since- not when she’d greeted all the dancers and celebrities with similar excitement, not when she’d given all the hair and makeup artists a hug and thanked them preemptively, and not when she’d been non-stop texting Brooke. To be fair, her partner had started it, so excited was she since rehearsal that morning that she’d texted her practically every available moment since. When Vanessa had finally seen her at the studios they had squealed and joined hands and jumped excitedly on the spot in anticipation of seeing their costumes, trying them on, getting to dress-rehearse and experience their first live show together. So Vanessa has been chatting excitedly the entire day.

The only point where she has fallen quiet is when she had seen Brooke in her dress for the first time.

It’s light blue with satin straps that criss-cross at the back, a bodice that is studded with dimantés, and a long skirt with ostrich feathers along the hem. It’s not the most gorgeous dress in the world but Vanessa knows it’s going to look incredible during the routine, and besides, Brooke could wear a bin bag and still look effortlessly beautiful. Brooke had looked bashfully to the floor as she emerged from her dressing room in the dress, her face ever-so-slightly red.

“It’s hideous,” she’d whispered to Vanessa, out of earshot of the costume girls who Brooke hadn’t wanted to offend. Vanessa, without knowing what had possessed her, had put her hand on Brooke’s upper arm and given it a squeeze.

“Shut up. You look stunning,” she’d smiled reassuringly at her, and the flash of gratitude in Brooke’s eyes had been all Vanessa had needed in return.

She’s in her dress now and Vanessa’s in hers too, the exact same but a royal blue instead of the sky-blue shade of Brooke’s. Vanessa’s stomach is fizzing at the thought of them both dancing in full costume, makeup and hair with an audience watching them as well.

The dress rehearsal doesn’t always run in the running order of the show and today is one of those days. Brooke and Vanessa have had to wait for some of the other couples to run their routine through whereas this evening they’re up first. They’re the ones kicking off the whole show, and Vanessa would be lying if she said she isn’t nervous. They have practised as much as they can, they can do the routine well. Now all they have to do is show the other couples what they’re up against. It’s hard, though, for Vanessa to put everything she’s seen out of her mind and focus on her own dance with Brooke. Jaida and Yvie have just finished their Jive, huge smiles on both their faces as they hit every single beat throughout, the moves coming to Yvie effortlessly as if it’s a partnership of two professionals. Before that, Jan and Jackie rehearsed their Cha Cha Cha which contained so much tension and chemistry that Vanessa became convinced that their lips were going to meet at some point in the routine.

“How you feelin’?” Vanessa whispers to Brooke as they move onto the ballroom floor. The band swap around and tune up and the singers glug water behind them. Brooke looks the most nervous Vanessa has ever seen her.

“I’m fine,” Brooke lies. Her eyes dart around in a panic, wide and white. It unsettles Vanessa so she takes Brooke’s hand, rubs her thumb over her knuckles comfortingly.

“Hey. You don’t need to be nervous,” she reassures her, despite the fact she’s swallowing down her own nerves as she speaks. “You’ve got me. It’s going to be okay.”

Brooke takes a deep breath, her lips forming a tiny “o” as she breathes out. She manages to shoot a smile Vanessa’s way, and Vanessa is slightly more at ease.

“Ready to go?” she hears a producer shout.

“Yeah!” she shouts over, as Brooke Lynn drops her hand to give the producer a thumbs up. They sit in the two chairs that form part of the beginning of their routine, there is a click of drumsticks, and a silence falls across the studio. Two notes from a trumpet, the shuffle of papers on a music stand. Vanessa’s throat is so dry. Launch show feels like a walk in the park compared to this.

There’s a one…two…one-two-three-four click from the drumsticks, the music begins, and the pair of them are off. Straight away, Vanessa can tell something isn’t right. Brooke is too in her head and it shows. When they move into hold she can feel Brooke’s hand shaking, feel her pulse through the hand on her back so fast and heavy that Vanessa wants to make eye contact with her, but she can’t- it’s dress rehearsal, and she needs to be a professional. She can feel Brooke’s feet opposite her, though, and she just knows they’re not doing what they’re meant to be doing. Brooke is trying to keep up and failing, and it’s so hard for Vanessa to push through and keep dancing when she knows it’s going so wrong. They reach their bit on the steps and Brooke stumbles, the steps all coming at the wrong time and in the wrong direction. The smile is still plastered to Vanessa’s face even though she wants to stop right there, cut the band off and just talk to Brooke, calm her down and reassure her. There’s a point in the middle where she finally gets to meet Brooke’s eyes and she tries her hardest to make them comforting and gentle in the few seconds they’re facing each other. It hurts Vanessa to see Brooke’s own full of resignation and disappointment. She manages to pick things up a little near the end of the dance but there are still a few mis-steps and blunders, and by the time it’s over and the others are clapping and cheering Vanessa can already see the hurt in Brooke’s fake smile and the slump of her shoulders. She takes her by the hand, squeezes it urgently.

“It’s just the dress run, okay?” she murmurs to her, panicking as she sees what could be tears welling up in Brooke’s eyes. “You can do this, baby. You know this.”

Brooke nods harshly, blinks once, twice, three times, and the tears- if they were ever there to begin with- vanish. Vanessa wonders whether or not to hug her and then allows her heart to take over. She pulls her in, reaching up to loop her arms around her neck and burying her face against her chest. As Brooke squeezes her waist, she decides that it was a good decision.

Of course the hug can’t last forever but their hands are joined as they leave the dancefloor and return to their seats. Nobody from costume comes over to make adjustments so they can watch some more couples, not that Vanessa particularly wants to. Monique and Monet are still in their chairs. Vanessa is reluctant to face her friend but a tap on her shoulder prompts her to turn around anyway.

“Hey,” Monique hisses, and as Vanessa turns around Brooke does too. Monique’s smile is caring and comforting as she addresses them both. “Don’t worry. First dress run is always off-puttin’, it’s a new environment and the lights are down and the band’s so different to a track. You’ll be great tonight.”

Vanessa is thankful for her words as they seem to put Brooke at ease a little more. She thanks Monique and, wanting to move the spotlight off the pair of them, asks Monet how she’s feeling.

“Ready! Excited! We’re gonna wipe the floor with all you bitches,” she teases playfully. Monique laughs supportively beside her and Vanessa wants to roll her eyes at how much of a ridiculously obvious lovesick puppy her friend is.

“Well, it won’t be hard after what just happened there,” Brooke jokes, her tone not dissimilar to Eeyore’s. Vanessa raises her eyebrows at her and points a finger in her face, channels a bit of her Abuela’s tough love.

“Hey! I’m not letting you talk like that, you’re amazing. We’re gonna be flawless tonight. Just you wait.”

She punctuates her telling-off with a tap to Brooke’s nose, which finally makes her crack a proper smile. A producer shouts over for Monique and Monet, and Vanessa and Brooke clap for them and wish them luck as they take to the stage in matching little glittery playsuits, assembling themselves in their starting positions. Vanessa takes the opportunity to talk to Brooke properly now they’re alone.

“What happened?” she asks. Brooke lets out a heavy sigh.

“Just like Monique said. It’s all so different to the studios and everything just…I don’t know…threw me off, I guess,” she mutters, picking at a bit of feather. Vanessa takes her fidgeting hand and holds it gently between both of hers. The gesture seems to surprise Brooke, and all of a sudden their eyes meet, green opposite brown.

“Brooke Lynn, listen to me. I want you to know this. You can do this fucking dance.”

“I know I can!” Brooke whines, exasperated. Her expression is pained and pouting. “That’s what fucks me off about the whole thing. We’ve done it literally perfectly before. I feel like the only time I was worse than when I just did that dance was the day we started learning it.”

“Well, that’s good! I’m glad you know that,” Vanessa says firmly, enthused by Brooke’s determination. “So. What’s our game plan for tonight?”

“Do it perfectly again,” Brooke says instantly, and Vanessa squeezes her hand between the both of hers. She can’t stop the grin that creeps onto her face at Brooke’s decisive tone.

“Let’s do that, then.”

Brooke’s returning her smile and hasn’t taken back her hand and the world seems right again.

Monet and Monique’s Cha Cha Cha is the best they’ve seen so far- granted it’s the only one they’ve seen so far, but it’s good. Monique’s choreography is funny and clever and as they dance the pair tell the story of a backing singer (Monet) upstaging the star (Monique). Despite the fun they’re having the pair of them manage to only make a couple of mistakes, and Vanessa is cheering for them at the end. Courtney and Blair are next, and God, Phi Phi had been right when she’d said they had a lot of work to do. Blair plods her way through their Tango and visibly shows the mistakes she makes on her face, but Vixen still claps and cheers once they’re done as if she’s just witnessed a piece of modern art. Their performance seems to cheer Brooke up significantly, and Vanessa can practically read her mind- at least we won’t be as bad as that. As if Brooke’s able to read hers, she leans down and gives Vanessa a smug grin which makes her heart skip a beat.

They don’t stay to watch the rest of the couples. Instead they practise as much as they can in Brooke’s dressing room, which embarrassingly makes Vanessa nervous to even be in. Brooke’s all business, though, and they mark as much as they can of the dance in the space that they have.

They do it perfectly all three times.

Hair and makeup’s waiting for them, though, so they eventually relent and join the other couples who are all assembled in the huge room either getting combs and brushes swept through their hair, sponges dabbing at their face, or sitting and chatting. The pair of them are out of breath after their impromptu rehearsal, and when they enter the room a whoop goes up from Willam, who’s sat beside Courtney. Come to think of it, they both seem to be joined at the hip despite not being partnered and it’s as if the two of them are salt and pepper shakers, never one without the other.

“Oh! Strictly curse! Strictly curse! Dressing-room fucking!” she cries out, eliciting a laugh from half the room to Vanessa’s embarrassment. Before either of them can defend themselves, Phi Phi cuts in from her position in the hairdresser’s chair.

“They were probably rehearsing. Which is what we should be doing after that fuck-up of a dress run.”

Vanessa’s intrigued by the mention of how their dance went, but instead she ignores the comment and nods her head gratefully. Brooke replies, and Vanessa doesn’t miss the blush that’s crept onto her face. “Yeah, post-rehearsal sweats, not post-sex sweats. Sorry, Willam.”

Willam’s undeterred, and she shrugs lightly as she chomps on a cereal bar. “Give it time. I’ve never been wrong yet. I gotta sixth sense for this kinda shit, y’know.”

“Ooh, how come?” Courtney asks, crossing her legs and batting her lashes Willam’s way. Willam immediately swivels away from Vanessa and Brooke to give Courtney all of her attention, and Vanessa rolls her eyes long-sufferingly at her partner.

“Strictly curse, Jesus. As if,” Vanessa laughs, but it comes out more bitter than she’d wanted it to. There are still memories she associates with that phrase, she can’t help them, and even though time has passed she’s still got scars that are slowly healing.

Brooke gives a snort beside her, but Vanessa sees the way she doesn’t smile with her eyes, the way she looks almost wounded. Is Brooke…disappointed? Vanessa scrambles to follow up her comment.

“I mean, you know, some good comes out of it all the time. Obviously like Shea with Sasha…I just think…”

“It’s not something you’d ever fall victim to,” Brooke nods slowly, understandingly. Vanessa shakes her head.

“No, no, that’s not it at all! Like if I developed a connection to someone on the show like that, then of course!” she explains quickly. All at once she sees a small twinkle appear in Brooke’s eye, and it sends a spark of electricity up her spine. She feels she has to justify her earlier remark and she swallows before deliberately forcing her tone to be light. “It’s just, you know…obviously after what happened last year.”

Brooke makes a face as if someone’s just dropped a very heavy object on her foot. “Right. Right. Of course. Fuck, sorry, of course you have every right to hate people talking about it so much.”

Vanessa gives a soft laugh. It still hurts and the humiliation might never dissipate but she tilts her head and smiles at Brooke. “Don’t worry. It’s fine.”

They drop the topic, chat about the show instead and Vanessa explains to her how it’ll all work. The pros will do their group number first (Vanessa will change into her costume for that later, a strappy silver leotard with a fringed skirt that hangs low on her waist), which the dancers have been rehearsing all week. Then the judges come out and sit at their table and do a bit of chit-chat with Michelle. Then each of the couples come down the famous stairs and are introduced, and after that the show kicks off. With them. They are opening the whole show, Vanessa’s brain reminds her, and her stomach does a somersault. While they chat a couple of the other girls join in. Scarlet sits herself down in a free chair opposite them and chips in in between bites of mango, and Yvie pipes up every so often from her position in the makeup chair.

“Are the judges really terrifying?” Scarlet asks nervously, biting down hard on a piece of fruit. Vanessa shrugs, pulls a face.

“I mean, I wouldn’t know really. Never competed before, remember?”

Vixen pipes up from her place in the hairstylist’s chair. “Bianca can be a bitch but she’s alright when she ain’t behind the judge’s table. I think half of it is just her playing into the panto villain stereotype. Kennedy is just happy to be there, she always gives fair scores. Laganja is on a different planet, she’s hilarious. Always marks high. Shangie is lovely but you know she undermarks half the time and plays favourites the other half.”

“Well, I’ll just need to make myself one of her favourites,” Scarlet flips her perfectly curled hair and shrugs.

“You’re already one of my favourites,” Yvie says nonchalantly. Scarlet fixes her photoshoot-ready smile onto her.

“The only correct decision,” she points at her approvingly. Yvie laughs a too-loud laugh that makes Vanessa roll her eyes at just how lovesick and useless everyone in this cast seems to be. Then again, she supposes she can’t really talk. Scarlet’s talking to Yvie now as if they’re the only two people in the room. “How’re you feeling, baby?”

“Just excited! Ready to go and get some tens,” she laughs, although Vanessa knows she’s not really joking.

Vixen raises her eyebrows, amused by the girl’s cocky remark. “Reign it in, girl. They never give out tens on the first night. You wanna score above twenty-five, that’s a successful first week,”

“Well, at least nobody’s going home this week,” Scarlet shrugs easily. She’s right- there’s no vote in the first week, and all the scores are instead carried over to next week’s show. But Vanessa doesn’t see that as a chance to relax. Scores are combined with the public votes so she knows a high score in the first week puts them in a good position for the next. She knows she’s thinking ahead too much but she can’t really help it. This is a long game, like Akeria said on launch night, and Vanessa is playing it to win.

“How’re you feeling, Scarlet?” Yvie asks back. Scarlet pouts. Vanessa thinks it’s more than a little for Yvie’s benefit.

“I’m just nervous! I hope I do okay.”

“You’ll be amazing,” Yvie tells her, and Scarlet’s smile is back on her face. Yvie smirks as she finishes her sentence off with, “Like me.”

The girls all laugh. Brooke takes out her phone and scrolls it a bit, nudging Vanessa after a while.

“Cute backstage video?” she offers, and Vanessa nods happily, glad to see Brooke a little less subdued. Vanessa leans into her as Brooke tilts the camera at them both.

“Hey family, we’re just about to get our hair and makeup done, hoping they can do something to fix this,” Brooke jokes, gesturing around her entire face. Vanessa shoves her.

“Shut up, girl, you’re gorgeous.”

The compliment is out before Vanessa can stop herself, but she doesn’t miss the way Brooke’s smile gets slightly wider. She ignores the compliment with her words but her face acknowledges it. “We’ve just done our dress run, it went horribly-”

“Oh my God, the lies you are telling today!!” Vanessa’s jaw drops. She knows it hadn’t gone well, but she just doesn’t want Brooke being so down on herself.

“Tell me we weren’t bad.”

“We weren’t bad!!”

“Well we weren’t good, either,” Brooke laughs, and Vanessa has to hand that one to her. “So you guys better vote for us next week, because we’ll need it.”

“Yeah, vote, vote, vote!” Vanessa nods enthusiastically.

“For Willam and Phi Phi!” Willam ducks her head into shot, and Vanessa pushes her away as she bursts out laughing.

“Brooke and Vanessa!” someone from hair calls, and Brooke pulls a face at the camera.

“Ah! Right, that’s us! See you all later, love you,” Brooke squeals into her phone and stops recording. In lieu of a story she decides to post the video on her grid, with the caption:

bhytes: 1 hour to go! Mood: terrified! Lucky I have @vanessavanjie dancing with me!

Vanessa is heartened by the tag, promises herself she’ll reply with something later. As the hair stylist sprays Brooke’s hair to within an inch of its life, Vanessa watches in the mirror as Brooke scrolls her phone, then pauses, a stifled smile creeping across her lips and a hand reaching up to touch her face self-consciously. Vanessa narrows her eyes with interest and, refreshing the page, finds that five new comments have popped up on the video Brooke’s posted. Three of them are a series of emojis, one is well-wishes from Brooke’s One Show co-star Nina, and one in particular catches her eye.

branjie5ever05: you GUYS i can’t take it you’re so good together!!! like an old married couple!! can’t wait to see you dance! branjie 5ever!!

Vanessa allows herself to wonder if that was the comment that had made Brooke’s face light up before her mind tells her how utterly ridiculous she’s being.

Hair and makeup is a blur and once they’re done, Brooke takes Vanessa’s breath away for a second time. The pair of them never really get to see each other with a full face of makeup on- they would just sweat it off in rehearsals- so this is unfamiliar territory to Vanessa. Brooke’s beauty hits her all over again just as it had on launch night, and Vanessa feels herself dissolving into a bashful mess whose tongue has been cut out.

“Wow,” Brooke says quietly, her tone of approval sending another little spark through Vanessa’s body. The atmosphere is already so electric and Brooke doesn’t need to add to that but she won’t complain. Brooke gives her a small smile that’s almost shy as she manoeuvres herself out of the makeup chair. “You look so good.”

Vanessa smiles, mutters a soft thanks to her. Brooke keeps going.

“I mean, better than good, obviously. Really pretty,” she stutters out, and Vanessa has to try not to laugh at how endearing she��s being.

“Well, same to you, boo. If anything goes wrong, which it won’t, all you need to do is smile at the judges and then maybe they’ll ignore it.”

Brooke rolls her eyes, gives a small laugh. “Ugh, please. I’m not Scarlet, I’m not going to simp for the judges.”

Vanessa lets out a howl of a laugh which causes some of the other girls to turn their heads. She yells an explanation. “Brooke Lynn just used the term ‘simp’!!”

“What? Did I not use it right?” she blinks, unamused. Vanessa butts her head into her arm and hugs her, trying to explain how funny she finds a thirty year old TV presenter using a term she’s only ever seen on Twitter.

If Brooke’s Insta post is a countdown to the show starting, then their time is eventually up. Vanessa feels like Brooke hugs her extra tight before she goes out to do the pro dance, clingy in the best kind of way. They won’t be separated for long but Vanessa still feels her heart hammering in her chest as the dancers begin to assemble on the ballroom floor, walking through the audience who are silent in anticipation (or perhaps under strict instructions from the producers). There’s a countdown and Vanessa tries to forget that, unlike the launch show, this is live, her dancing instantly beamed into the living rooms of everyone watching. The lights begin to come up, and the commentator’s voice booms through the studio.

“Live on Saturday night, this is Strictly Come Dancing!”

The audience cheers, and the band play the first notes of Boogie 2Nite. Vanessa can hardly breathe as she watches Akeria and Phi Phi open the dance, not a single error between them as they kick and spin each other around the floor. When Vanessa and the other pros join in at the swell of the chorus there is another excited cheer that ripples through the studio and makes Vanessa’s smile hurt her face. She gets to her solo and feels as if she’s igniting as the lights beam down hot onto her and she spins, kicks one leg high into the air, melts and then finishes with a stag jump that she knows wasn’t perfect but she’s too full of adrenaline to care. She partners with Monique and the two of them have matching grins on their faces as they dance, Monique spinning Vanessa round, round, round until she’s almost dizzy. As the dance comes to a close, Vanessa hits her pose right on the last beat, holds it, and then after waiting for the audience to finish applauding she runs backstage along with the other girls, hurrying into costume to change into her quickstep dress. The wardrobe team help her change and before she knows it, she returns into the line that the partners are all forming at the top of the stairs, waiting for their names to be called out. As soon as Brooke sees her, her face lights up in a smile and she wraps her in a tight hug. She smells of hairspray and fake tan and peppermint chewing gum, and Vanessa never wants to step out of her arms.

“You were so amazing. Well, everyone was. But you were the best,” Brooke murmurs into her ear before she lets her go, and Vanessa’s whole body tingles at the praise. There’s hardly time to reply, however, before a runner is telling them that they’re to come down the stairs in just twenty seconds, and stand in the spot they’d been given earlier that day during the dress run. Vanessa’s palms are sweaty and she’s self-conscious of them as Brooke takes her hand.

“Introducing your Strictly Come Dancing stars!”

The commentator’s voice is loud through the speakers and Brooke’s thumb strokes Vanessa’s skin between her thumb and index finger as they look at each other affirmingly before stepping out onto the stairs. The lights are blinding in Vanessa’s face but she’s still smiling and waving at the top of the stairs as the audience cheers for her and Brooke.

“TV presenter Brooke Lynn Hytes, and her partner Vanessa Mateo!”

Vanessa sneaks a look at Brooke and she’s already looking at her. The coincidence makes them both giggle before they walk carefully down the stairs, Vanessa telling herself not to trip on her way down. They make their way to their space and watch and clap for the other couples while the anticipation fizzes in Vanessa’s chest. They’re first. They’re first. They’re first. If she’s this nervous, she doesn’t know how Brooke must be feeling. Eventually all the couples are assembled, and Michelle is introducing them.

“And kicking off the whole show…it’s Brooke and Vanessa!”

As the audience gives a whoop and their VT plays Vanessa takes Brooke’s arm and looks at her, making sure she’s okay. To her relief Brooke returns her gaze steadfastly and there’s a little sparkle in her eye. She doesn’t seem as anxious as she was before. The couples leave the ballroom floor, Monique, Akeria and Crystal making sure to tap Vanessa on the shoulder on their way past and whisper a quick “good luck” to her and Brooke. They sit on the chairs that the set people are running about assembling, and Vanessa hisses across to Brooke.

“You good?”

Broke nods to her. “We’ve got this.”

Vanessa’s nerves instantly leave her body. Brooke’s truly back in the room and her head is in the game. There’s a countdown of five from a runner and the commentator’s voice booms overhead again.

“Dancing the quickstep…Brooke Lynn Hytes and Vanessa Mateo!”

The drum kicks in and their performance has begun. Already it’s nothing like the dress rehearsal. Brooke’s smile is genuine and easy during their silly interview-style bit, and when Brooke takes her hand as she rises from the chair Vanessa can feel her pulse again but it’s not heavy and frightened like before. It’s full of adrenaline and excitement and as Vanessa rests her hand on her upper arm and Brooke rests hers between her shoulder blades, something just seems to click. They’re off across the dancefloor and Vanessa knows Brooke’s steps and hops are in time with hers, the intricate footwork coming so naturally to her. As they go to cross the floor again, Brooke’s smile seems to falter as she stumbles. Vanessa doesn’t let this deter her and as they meet each other’s eyes she gives Brooke a wink.

“Beans on toast!” she reminds her mid-dance, and Brooke’s confidence is back as they do the next set of steps perfectly. Their feet are going so fast that Vanessa can’t even pick up on whether or not Brooke’s made any more mistakes yet, but the majority of their first dance has been good.

They reach their little section on the steps, and Brooke gives the slightest little falter as she makes eye contact with Bianca. The judge never gives anything away so her steely gaze might have rattled her, but as soon as they’re off the steps and back in each others’ arms Vanessa gives Brooke’s hand a squeeze.

“Almost there, last section!” Vanessa tells her encouragingly. They’re back to kicking, stepping and hopping their way across the ballroom floor to their seats where they finish, and as Brooke hits her final pose and Vanessa hits hers the audience gives a loud cheer. As soon as they’ve held it for a few seconds, Vanessa squeals, jumps up and meets Brooke’s waiting arms. She knows they’ve got to go over to Michelle to be interviewed but she holds the hug for a few more moments than necessary, raising her voice over the roar of the crowd as she speaks against Brooke’s rapidly rising and falling chest.

“You did it! So incredible!!” she gasps, all out of breath. To her shock, Brooke rests a hand on one side of Vanessa’s face and plants a kiss against the other.

Vanessa doesn’t know if the past five minutes could get any better.

They make their way over to Michelle. Brooke’s got one arm slung around Vanessa’s shoulders and Vanessa’s not moved her arm from her hips since their hug. Michelle is waiting for them with a bright smile on her face, seemingly as happy with their performance as they are.

“Congratulations you two, what an opening to the show!” she smiled encouragingly, and Vanessa gives Brooke’s waist a squeeze. “Brooke, how did it feel performing tonight?”

Brooke’s out of breath as she talks. “So amazing. So, so amazing. Dress run went so badly and just having the real thing go so well…wow. Just the best feeling.”

“I told y’all she was good!” Vanessa pipes up proudly beside her, and Brooke gives a laugh and pulls Vanessa in closer to her side.

“Judges! What did you think? Shangela?”

Vanessa’s heart stands still as she comes to the first judge, smiling gently at her desk.

“Well first of all, what a way to open the show! So much fun, and Vanessa, so great to have you as part of a pairing this year, that choreo was something else.”

Vanessa can feel Brooke’s eyes on her and she flushes pink from the praise, stutters out a thank you.

“Brooke, great job tonight, you lost your footing a little bit on the steps there, but overall a gorgeous start. Just work on strengthening your core, holding your frame a little bit better, and once you do that? Lovely, gal!”

Vanessa turns her head to see how Brooke’s reacting, She’s smiling and nodding and taking it all on board. Laganja speaks next, growing animated as she gives her feedback.

“I think we have one to watch here, mama!” she cries, and the audience gives a cheer. Vanessa looks up encouragingly at Brooke, gives her waist another squeeze because she can. “So much amazing potential! You just have a natural eleganza, all light and frothy like a latté! A couple of mistakes, girl, work on not showing that on your face. Cuz when you show it, we all see it, you know? But all that aside, well done.”

Bianca’s up next, and Vanessa clenches her core in preparation. The woman could watch Torvill and Dean dance Bolero on ice and still find something to say. “Uh, I thought the footwork needed tightening up, there were bits that were just a little bit too haphazard for me, your elbow was drooping just a little bit which is not great, you did lose your footing on the stairs here…”

Vanessa can feel Brooke drooping a little beside her, a bit like her elbow had allegedly been doing. The audience boos Bianca like the pantomime villain that Vixen had mentioned, but the woman’s face cracks into a small smile as she finishes her remarks. “But what I do love about you is your energy, you have a lot of great potential as Ganja’s pointed out, and I’m looking forward to seeing what you can do when you get just a little bit more technical.”

The audience seems appeased and claps her comments, and Brooke has perked up at Vanessa’s side like a flower that’s been given a drink. Michelle turns to Kennedy, the final judge to give her comments.

“Brooke! I think you started out a little bit nervous, and what was nice was that as the dance went on you kinda came out into your own a bit. You have a lovely feminine and elegant way of moving which is really nice to see in an all-female partnership, and you seem really comfortable in hold with Vanessa, which is lovely.”

Vanessa tries to fight the blush that washes her face at Kennedy’s comment and doesn’t succeed.

“Just work on your presentation a little bit and your confidence and…yeah. I’m living for you, miss, you’re gonna be dangerous.”

Vanessa is heartened by the way Brooke’s face lights up at the praise. Michelle thanks the judges and waves them off upstairs to be interviewed by Divina, her co-host, and the pair of them pick up the hems of their dresses and entwine their hands as they dash upstairs to the auditorium (or, as it’s commonly known between the dancers, the Divinatorium). Most of the other pairs are there having watched them dance while they wait for their turn, and they all clap the pair of them as they nudge their way through.

“You did it!” Divina smiles, giving Brooke a hug as she meets them both. “Congratulations! Now, nice comments from the judges- I know Bianca got a bit pernickety there, but how do you feel about them?”

“Really happy, yeah! I just can’t believe what Vanessa’s managed to do with me in the space of two weeks, she’s been amazing. It’s all been down to her.”

Vanessa can’t help the rays of sunshine that feel like they’re emanating from her face as she looks at Brooke. Divina turns to her.

“Vanessa, you’ve been benched for a couple of years now, how does it feel to have a partner finally?”

“You know what, it was worth the wait. She’s been an absolute star,” Vanessa beams, wrapping her other arm around Brooke’s waist and pulling her close just like Brooke had done once their dance had finished.

“Worth the wait! Too cute, you two. Well, the judges’ scores are in.”

Vanessa’s stomach gives a dip. She feels Brooke’s grip tighten on her shoulder as the voice of the commentator rings across the studio. This is the moment they’ve both been waiting for. They’re about to get their first ever scores.

“Will the judges please reveal their scores. Bianca Del Rio.”

Bianca holds up her paddle. Vanessa blinks and tries not to pull a face. Because what’s on the paddle is a number, a number that doesn’t correlate with the dance they both just did.

“Five.”

Hardly wanting to look away, she keeps her eyes fixed to the screen.

“Kennedy Davenport.”

“Five!” Kennedy is holding up an identical paddle. Vanessa can’t help it- she scrunches her face up, turns to Brooke.

“Five?” she shakes her head. Brooke shrugs and smiles but Vanessa knows the scores are hurtful to her. They’re being undermarked- okay, she knows the dance wasn’t perfect and they made just a couple of mistakes, but it was at least a six, perhaps even a seven.

“Shangela Wadely.”

“Five.”

Vanessa shakes her head, trying to keep a smile on her face but wanting to storm down the stairs and give those judges a piece of her mind.

“Laganja Estranja.”

“Six!” the girl cries happily as she holds up her paddle, and the audience lets out a cheer. Vanessa relaxes a little, and she can feel somebody pat her on the back encouragingly.

“Happy with those?” Divina asks a little gingerly, and Vanessa jumps in before Brooke can say anything.

“You know what? It’s week one, and it’s a start!” she shrugs firmly. She’s not going to let this dent her confidence or Brooke’s. This isn’t the first time she’s been undermarked or disappointed in her career and it sure as hell won’t be the thing that knocks her or Brooke down.

“The only way is up,” Brooke agrees beside her, nodding fiercely.

“Well, we all thought you did amazing,” Divina reassures them both, and Vanessa flashes her a grateful smile. Divina explains to the TV audience that they can’t vote until next week, and that the judges’ scores will be carried over to the next show. She closes their interview and the audience claps them and just like that, after all the buildup, their first dance is over and they head backstage.

The moment it’s just the pair of them, Vanessa instantly pulls Brooke into a hug because God knows if Brooke doesn’t need one then she definitely does. They’re in the cream-painted corridors where the dressing rooms are, and the light is harsh and bright around them when all Vanessa wants is just a moment of darkness. She wants to be under her duvet, pulling it up high over her head and letting the shadows envelop her. As her arms circle around Brooke’s waist she lets out a sigh. Brooke returns the hug and Vanessa takes a deep, calming breath as she feels the older woman’s strong arms wrap around her shoulders and pull her in close to her chest. Vanessa’s back is against the cold paint of the wall and it’s contrasting so much with the warmth Brooke’s body is giving off. They stand like that in silence for a moment, each of them grounding the other, and Vanessa can feel Brooke’s heart through her chest. It’s intimate and gentle, and not a single word has been spoken between them but Vanessa can sense a shift in the atmosphere. She feels something change between them, a difference that somehow pulls them closer together and connects them in a way that they hadn’t been before.

“That was undermarked. You were amazing,” she whispers in annoyance against Brooke’s chest. Brooke’s arms tighten around her in response.

“We were amazing,” she whispers back. Vanessa’s not sure why they’re whispering, but she likes it, makes the moment seem more theirs somehow.

The thought appears in her head and it’s out before she can stop it. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

Brooke shakes her head above her and repeats her words back to her instantly. “No, I’m lucky. So, so lucky.”

Giving another sigh, Vanessa lets her arms slide down to her side and, taking her cue, Brooke slowly releases her, but not before resting her hands on her shoulders and giving her a smile that seems to say so much without saying anything at all. Vanessa wonders how long that hug could have gone on for if she’d let it.

“Put it out of your mind. We move,” she says decisively, and Brooke gives a single nod.

“Tomorrow’s a new day, and next week’s a new week.”

They link arms and go to be interviewed for the socials and, after the moment she’s just shared with Brooke, Vanessa knows that her smile won’t have to be faked.

#rpdr fanfiction #bet you look good on the dancefloor #ortega #strictly au #lesbian au #branjie #vanessa vanjie mateo #brooke lynn hytes #monique heart #monet x change #willam belli #courtney act #phi phi o'hara #scarlet envy #yvie oddly #background jankie #background momo #background scyvie #background crygi

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yeoldontknow · 5 years

Text

As Still As Sound: 4

Author’s Note: thank you to everyone who has patiently waited for this update. ive been waiting for it too. ily so much. i hope you enjoy <3 Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader (oc; female) Songs Mentioned: From Her To Eternity - Nick Cave and The Badseeds / Cry To Me - Solomon Burke Genre: soulmate!au; angst; fluff; romance Rating (this chapter): R Warnings: some mature sexual themes; explicit language Word Count: 9K

masterlist

Months ago, the concert was your idea, a thing you suggested with fire behind your teeth and adrenaline in your veins.

You remember, now, the way your hands rushed to buy the tickets, typing passwords and entering pre-sale codes, telling Kate over and over down the phone that you’d pay for hers if you got in, that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity - that Nick Cave, more than anyone, had constructed your adulthood. In your heart, you carried him, the sound of his voice, and the words from his lips - a soundtrack of misery, anguish, and the fleeting experience of contentment that painted your journey into maturity red and red and red.

Months ago, Kate agreed, her excitement at the prospect of joining you almost wild and ravenous. Together, you’d looked forward to this, marked days on calendars and held the tickets in your hands in the morning before work, disbelieving and somewhat overwhelmed.

Today, the concert is her idea, a suggestion born purely from kindness; a friendly reminder you need to go out, away from your home and away from your constant, desperate soundtrack - released, finally, from your state of entrapment.

It is not, you imagine, that your anticipation of the show has ceased - far from it - merely that your anticipation and excitement has been redirected to a man whose voice is just as low, just as effective, and meant for your ears alone. The gravel nestled within Chanyeol’s voice is a chocolate honeycomb of affection, putting syrup and sweetness and devotion into your blood - a sugar rush upon which you get high; where Nick’s lyrics remind you of the heartbreak so unilaterally partnered with the act of living, Chanyeol’s words - simple and unpoetic as they often are - ignite the hope you had scorned and turned away, putting the thrill of living back into your lungs.

For weeks you have wondered if this is how people live now, if this is how people had been living long before the solar flare - endlessly searching and seeking, restless and waiting for the vibrancy of an overeager heartbeat; hoping and hoping and hoping to be touched and felt and needed.

Until Chanyeol, this was not you. These types of deep rooted, tenacious emotions carried with them an unprecedented sense of repulsion - not to the person, but to the intensity, and to, more than anything, the incomprehensible notion that you needed another person to feel whole.

Finding romance, for you, was a pleasure, and seeking pleasure in another person was a brief, impermanent adventure, something only slightly more transient than a roller coaster. Did people always crave like this? Did your parents want and need and yearn for one another long before they had confirmation they could? Was it not existentially exhausting to want and pine and wish, almost as compulsively as breathing, for the arms of another?

Would you, had you met Chanyeol on the street and not entwined or laced between your music, have felt such pining and longing for his hands, his voice, his breath as you do now? Would you, had you seen him at the shop, buying records and buying albums, unknowingly sharing his music taste with your cash register, have listened to all the same things, hoping to share a part of him as you do now?

In the end, it does not matter.

These questions do not matter because the cosmos has built itself around you and around him, twining your hearts together until the days have started to blur into one half formed and hardly tangible rise and set of the sun. In your efforts of hearing him once more, the play count and hours logged on your last.fm have reached new highs, an almost constant list of songs based on genres, artists, and decades you imagine he would like growing and growing until, for several hours, it stopped counting altogether, seemingly overwhelmed. Where before you listened to only one album, playing through enough Neil Diamond to feel as though his lyrics are the lexicon of your speech, now you have knowledge of a science and a pattern, but no element of control to manage your testing.

All you know is that you will meet him when you play the same song, and you have, and will and are, pushed yourself into obsession in the effort of meeting him again.

And so it is not that you do not want to go to the show any longer.

On the contrary, you find, as you tie the laces of your combat boots and check - twice before you leave and once after the tube carriage doors close - for your tickets, you are craving the thunder and violence of live music. Lately, you have needed to be rattled - shaken down to your core by something familiar, not something cosmic. Live music builds the person you are back up from nothing, the person you have lost after days and weeks and months of work, and family, and responsibility structured through a sound wave.

In losing yourself completely, surrendering to the passion and the energy and the noise until your mind is full of nothing else, do you find your true soul, remember who you are and what you are, someone who survives on the edge of existence and with a smile wide enough to hurt.

And so, it is not that you don't want to go to the show. You are adamant about this, reminding yourself that you need the emotional rest and that you crave this as you stand on the tube platform. An approaching train puts a warm breeze through your hair, the unprecedented loudness drowning out all other sounds and leaving you, momentarily, in a dull roar of silence. Grimacing, you step on the train, frustrated with the noise of the tube and the sense that you lose time every time you take a journey.

Time you could have spent finding Chanyeol.

Annoyed with yourself, you release a chastising laugh. It is not that you don’t want to go to the show, it is simply the hours with live music are hours without him, without an opportunity to find him, have him, hold him - three minutes amongst hours that slip through your fingers. Pressing your back against rough cushion of the tube seat, you raise the volume of the music in your headphones, hoping the sound of Etta James can slow your rapid thoughts into silence, a pout pushing at your lips in disdain.

You only ever have three minutes with Chanyeol, three minutes which seem to pass in seconds, time slipping through and around you as though you are both simultaneously part of the natural order of the earth and separate from it altogether. His voice alone renders time meaningless, a concept the air in his lungs blows to dust, lips kissing at words that become stars in your eyes and held together by the fabric of your ardor. Three minutes and endless seconds, hours missed and hours lost, and it is all completely unequivocally unfair.

Tonight, the tube carriage is full of people and strangers, some bonded, some free; some headed to the same show as you, evidenced by their band tee shirts and their jittery, shaking legs, and all, most likely, will get to experience the slow descent into love at a pace they have chosen to set. Chewing at the inside of your cheek, you bite back a frustrated sigh, willing your mouth to suck the bitterness from your tongue. The envy of their supposed simplicity sends your heart sinking, resentful and aware that you deserve nothing less than what you have been given.

Gifted to you, somewhat cruelly, is a love that appears only when you least expect it and always when you imagine it has departed from you entirely, a fluke or trick of the imagination brought forward by the human instinct to want a partner. Once more, you are reminded of Kate's words, her small laugh and the acknowledgement that this sort of connection is so like you, your inherent distrust of love resulting in a connection that feels incredible but seems to distrust if you were worthy of it.

But still, your hand grips your phone tightly, hoping that maybe Chanyeol is listening to Etta James too and that, even if you do not meet in these songs, he wants you, through and beyond time, and down to his very core.

Kate is waiting for you at the front entry of the Eventim Apollo, a delicate flush painted on her cheeks from the uncharacteristically cool night and a bounce in her knees, unable to keep still. A smile is tucked into the corner of her lips as she speaks on the phone, a secret affection given away by the glimmer of joy in her eyes. The surrounding city lights are eaten by the matte fabric of her burgundy coat, as though she absorbs the world and glows on her own. Hurrying through her conversation as you approach, she laughs, the sound adopting a musical cadence she only ever exudes when she is blissfully happy.

'Yes, I'll text when it's over and we're leaving,' she says, rushing through the words as she waves you over. 'Do you want me to call if they play Jesus of the Moon? Okay, love you too. Bye.'

Coming to stand at her side, you dig through your bag, smiling to yourself. 'Baekhyun couldn't make it?'

She slips her phone into her pocket, taking the ticket you hand her with a small pout. 'No, he couldn't find any tickets on StubHub or the forums. The prices were astronomical.'

Nodding, you walk with her to the queue, which has already begun to shrink. Doors opened twenty minutes ago, and while you both have standing stall tickets, neither of you had the energy to queue. It will be just as magical, you know, standing towards the back and letting the light in.

'I can't imagine the fans would be selling,' you muse, opening your bag for checking and offering a polite smile to the security guard who nods mutely in gratitude. 'I'm disappointed, though. I was looking forward to meeting him.'

'You'll meet him soon enough,’ she replies offhandedly, muttering a gentle thank you as security waves her forward. 'I'm impressed by you, though.'

Walking through the entry, you hand your ticket for scanning and cock a quizzical brow in her direction. 'How do you mean?'

Ticket scanned, she pushes it into her bag before gesturing her hands over her ears, giving the impression of ear muffs. 'You brought the small earbuds and not your big clunkers.'

Rolling your eyes, you purse your lips. 'I hate that you call them that.’

The slight irritation in your voice is undercut by the hum of people within the venue, some at the bar and others heading towards coat check. Glancing in Kate's direction, you find her eyes remain locked on the entryway to the stage floor, expression unfazed and unmarred by your displeasure. It does not matter if she heard you or not, she's had this conversation enough to know your opinion.

'They're studio headphones,’ you finish, unbothered by the petulant tone you’ve adopted.

She laughs, nodding at your clarification while she trains a focused stare on the sound booth and the surrounding barrier.

'There good?' she asks, pointing to the section just in front of the sound desk - a place for you to stand and lean if you grow tired. At your hum of approval, she beelines with you in tow, and continues where your conversation left off.

'Precisely zero people walk around the tube with those,’ she says, pride overtaking an edge to her voice, pleased by her success of finding a good spot.

'Fuck off,' you murmur, leaning back against the barrier and assessing your view of the stage. 'I just didn't want to bring a big bag. And,' you emphasize, turning to finally look at her once more, 'I'll have you know those headphones have incredible audio quality.'

'For music?' Kate's lip curls in a mischievous smirk, and your mouth runs dry in anticipation. 'Or for a certain someone?'

A small hiss of air escapes your teeth, bemused but unsurprised. For a moment, you let your eyes wander around the room, battling with yourself as you decide just how much you want to give away.

'And if I said both?' you counter eventually, voice bold and unflinchingly honest as you watch her expression immediately softens.

'Any luck the last few days, then?'

You shake your head, spine straightening as you roll your shoulders back, determined to appear decidedly okay. 'No.'

‘Are you certain he’s your soulmate?’

It is neither an insult nor an accusation, but still the air escapes your lungs, chest winded and pained by the unintended cruelty of her question. But then, you quickly realize the last she's heard is that you were uncertain - that you had no idea about him at all, meeting with her at the pub only to disappear for weeks, responding here and there through text. To her, your relationship with Chanyeol is as good as a science experiment. While you know for a fact you had lied, unwilling to admit, then, that you knew from the moment his first breath reached your ears he was yours, now she simply questions your diligence in an act of concern for her closest friend.

And so you smile, aware that the expression looks sad, unmoved in your effort to make someone else feel comfortable when discussing this topic.

‘I’m confident it’s him.’

The firmness in your tone as you say the words does not make up for the pain your muscles had taken on after you lied, but at least, in this moment, the weightlessness of such a melancholy statement gives your heart the sensation of floating beneath your sternum.

It feels good to say it, to admit it. It feels good to be claimed by him.

Warmth floods her irises, one of her hands coming to hold your arm in gentle reassurance. Empathy mixes with sympathy, shades of the Kate you remember pre-Baekhyun glossing over her current visage in a sort of time slip. It hits you, then, that she had felt this way, once. While she had a clear marker for her connection, a clock beneath her skin stopping the moment she came into contact with her soulmate, the confidence that she would ever be released from her own prison had never once been something she believed she could touch.

All at once, you are reminded of the months she said she wanted to bond even if she didn’t like it, just so that it could be over.

'You'll figure it out soon,' she affirms, the softness in her voice mixing with her stubborn determination. 'On the bright side, this is a vast improvement from believing you don't have anyone at all.'

'Is it though?' You don't mean for it to sound pleading, but the ferocity of your affection has taken hold of pieces within your soul you did not know existed. And, while you are confident you don’t wish to be freed from this new, uncharted intensity, you simply wish there was a logic to make the pain a little more bearable. 'Or am I simply driving myself mad, thinking and overthinking?'

'You do that anyway,' she counters, playfully, 'so I'm not sure the bond is to blame.'

Laughing, you nudge your shoulder into hers and release a groan of agreement, jostled by her honesty. Regardless if you had bonded with Chanyeol or not, your mind would have raced towards an infinite number of conclusions, exhausting your heart into a state of paralysis. Bond or no bond, your mind was never one to allow itself a moment of reprieve.

'Look,' she continues, cocking her head towards the stage in encouragement. 'Just forget about it for tonight. You need a break. No bonds. Just us and our first boyfriend.'

Kate’s advice is sound, and it works for a while. For a time, you are tethered to the moment by the strength in the hold of her hand, the way she holds you to her side and shares, with all of herself, the light and the sound and the feeling. But soon, her grasp on your hand turns your thoughts inward, in that purgatory of time between the opener and the main act, when there is little to do apart from buy another pint of cider, feeling the thrum of excitement down into your bones.

While she checks her phone for texts from Baekhyun, you wonder if Chanyeol is here, sharing this moment with you the same way you have been sharing songs. It would not be preposterous to assume he would be, the majority of London’s rock scene gathered to get high and get wrecked by a sonic release that will likely feel akin to something biblical. Craning your neck, you glance around the venue, hoping to be struck by him as if by lightning.

For weeks, you’ve wondered if you’ve passed him, shared a tube with him - if he’s even in London at all. Being separated by miles and seas from your soulmate is not uncommon; you would not be the first instance of such a curse, but still those couples found one another, and so you have not given up the waxy sensation of hope as it glides over your fingers.

But still, you may be the first instance of couple sharing song and sharing sound, only having minutes - perhaps less - to glean as much information from one another as you can. Those who hear one another’s thoughts coordinate meeting places, already knowing what and who they should be looking for; those with sensory loss and clocks have concise ways of knowing when and how to find their person, the earthquake of first contact partnered with a monumental change. Yet, there is no guarantee you would find Chanyeol even if he were here, no promise that you would feel him even if he were rows behind or in front of you.

And so you cling, in the end, to the prayer that tonight, even if he is not here, he finds his way to any of the twenty-six songs on the setlist.

The lights dim at nine on the dot, carrying with it the familiar sensation of floating, the yells from the crowd swiftly wiping any further thought from your mind. You smile - you feel yourself smiling, and you are unsure when your cheeks had pulled back to reveal your teeth, but you do not mind. At once, the hairs on your arms stand on end, brought to life by the strength of adrenaline alone, the gooseflesh along your skin and sending a shiver down your spine. Kate’s hand squeezes yours, a touch and a hold that feels to you like a liveware, and you lift yourself taller, back straightening as though boosted by the roar of the speaker feedback.

The first notes hit you in the center of your chest, the kind of eruption that could leave a person winded, and the force of it does not seem to stop throughout the night. Eyes closed, mouth screaming the words, the only tether you have to the earth is Kate’s hand, rooting you to gravity. Tension leaves your jaw, the stress of existence seeping from your bones and leaving you weightless, skin tingling from the sudden relaxation. Throughout the night, Kate’s hand in yours becomes a comfort, a familiar sensation you do not need to focus on but recognize just the same, feeling safe simply because her own fingers press into your knuckles in delight.

And it is then, in the middle of From Her To Eternity, when you realize touch and contact carries with it its own set of rules, a logic and an understanding that goes far beyond conscious conception; a logic that need not be experienced in order to be conceived - you can feel the texture of silk just by thinking of the word; you can feel, rather easily, the cool clasp of a leather jacket, just by picturing the silver.

And it is then, in the middle of From Her To Eternity, that you think on Chanyeol, on the way he pulls at you and your soul, and suddenly, all at once, as if he had never been departed from you at all, feel him over and inside of you.

From out of the black, his hands tug at your waist, aching to press you flush against his body - seemingly disdainful of any separation. During the guitar riff before the chorus, you can almost hear him, cheering and singing along to the notes with an ecstatic sort of howl - one hand fisting in your shirt in an effort to make sure you experience him at the same time. Heart racing and blood rushing beneath your skin, you lean back into where you imagine his chest would be, careful not to fall or pull Kate with you. You take luxury in the peculiarity of this sensation, at a body without a body being at once behind and a part of yours. Almost instantly, you open for and open to him, begging him to stay, to never leave, to make a home of you, and you spread your legs a little wider hoping to feel his leg press against your thighs, encouraging him to bind his bones with yours.

A shiver walks along your nerves as his other hand glides up your extended arm, carding your fingers together as he sings - rich, and full voiced, and transcendent - all the lyrics you echo back to him, to Nick, to the atmosphere. The warmth of his aura floods your muscles, a small moan escaping your lips in the middle your favourite lyric, words garbled by the sudden overwhelm of heat. As badly as you want Chanyeol, so too does he want your skin, wants the prints of your fingertips smeared all over him, bodies thrumming from passion, adrenaline, and delirium.

The fabric of your clothes becomes tight, the denim of your black jeans feeling thin and damp around the curve of your ass; your shirt, wrapped in his grip and rubbing against your waist, is moist at the base of your spine, the heat from the crowd and the heat from Chanyeol pulling the wetness from your pores. His long fingers extend upward against your stomach, grazing the soft fabric of your bra with his nails - a sensation that tickles you, barely there and barely tangible, but felt all the same.

Looking up at your hand, vision blurred and lips pulled into a messy, lopsided smile, you suddenly feel dizzy.

This hand is empty. You know and can see that it is empty. Part of you does not question this because if he were here, if he were truly with you, the roughness of his skin would ignite the chemistry of your molecules, transforming you into something Other and something Unknown. You know your hand is empty, but still the haze of fingers and knuckles and the pink redness of blood at the fingertips takes shape. The blurred edges of this image make you feel motion sick, bewildered by the sudden trick of the light and the trick of your heart, blinking once and twice before it is gone altogether.

There is no hand holding yours, no fingers pressing hungrily at your breast, but you feel them - you still feel him, as though the seismic weight of your wishing has brought him forth, brought the memory of every other contact you’ve felt into the nerves of your palm and married it, desperately, with the malformed shadow of Chanyeol.

It’s difficult, you find, building a person around a voice or building a heart around sound, but then - isn’t that what a heartbeat is? A constant rhythm keeping space and keeping time, pulling you close and close and close, able to be recognized regardless of the cartilage that separates you from it.

Chanyeol holds you close, curled into you from fear that you will leave him, rocking into your back and pressing a smile into the skin of your neck as he sings and sings and sings. You’re vibrating, holding onto nothing at the same time as you hold onto Kate, feeling wetness pool between your thighs from the sheer magnitude of wanting without having, knowing how it feels to be pressed close to a body, the hardness of a person grazing your back and ass, and allow your mind to fill the missing pieces in on your behalf. The sound of his voice travels through your ears, your mind, and into your open mouth, tongue going dry from the sheer force of him.

Like always, he is a flood, a force of nature you absolutely cannot resist, soul surrendering, almost immediately, to the magic of his existence.

It could be the cider, you think, that elevates your heart rate and puts a rush of blood into your lips that makes them feel swollen, and full, begging to be kissed or bitten. It could be the crowd and their energy making you wish and crave for someone to share this intimacy with, the energy of the room pushed flush the chambers of your heart, and your brain ensuring the hazy outline of Chanyeol be there to deliver you to paradise. In the end, you decide it does not matter, the answers to these questions are not nearly as meaningful as the way he tells you this is his favourite song too, and you cling to the way he speaks and breathes; mostly, you cling to the way his lips seem to press against your ear, demanding you hear him and you do not forget.

And just as swiftly as the song started, just as quickly as the feeling came, it leaves you, the red flush on your chest lingering even after he is gone. The heat from the room sticks to your skin, much the same way Kate’s eyes burn into your profile. With vigor, she pulls her hand from yours, tugging it from your grip. In your peripheral, you watch the way she stretches out her hand and fingers, massaging the bones and regards you with wide, worried eyes that demand an explanation. Unsure what to say and unprepared to speak at all, you keep your eyes trained on the stage, watching the stage as it goes dark and waiting for the sadness of your loss to creep back in as it always does.

But this time, there is change. This time, you are left with a tangible residue to mark his presence, a sign that your overactive imagination was not alone in its efforts.

This time, instead of the loss and the torment of separation, you focus on the sensation of your wet underwear, a pulsing vibration from inside your core reminding you this was real.

This was real.

The deep flush of your cheeks and the dry skin of your lips is grateful for the chilly night air as you exit the venue after the show. Tonight, the sky of London is clear and black, stars swallowed by the street lights with only the glow of the full moon reminding you there exists a world beyond this, beyond the world you've fallen into with Chanyeol. Breathless, you stand outside and check the time, hands shaking from both adrenaline and memory. This late at night, the tube is still running, but you crave the open expanse of the world, synapses too flooded with desire to handle the closed tunnels of the underground.

Close quarters and tight seats would only make you yearn for the press of his hands and his groin into your lap, the longing to be handled brimming over in the heat of your blood.

‘What the fuck was that?’ Kate asks, the disbelieving nature of her voice breaking your thoughts.

Tearing your eyes away from the sky, you regard her, wide eyed and breathless. Shadows have been carved into her features from the Eventim Apollo marquee sign and the silver glimmers of moonlight, a darkness under her eyes and cheekbones making her look severe and unnerved.

‘What?’ The small, thinness to your voice gives away you know precisely to what she is referring, but you need her to say it.

You need her to say it and to confirm it.

‘You nearly broke my hand during that song.’ Neither angry nor upset, she simply massages her hand in concern, easing the lingering soreness. ‘I know its your favourite, but have some consideration for my joints, yeah?’

Looking down at your feet, your mind empties, mouth giving shape to apologies before your mind can properly form them. ‘Sorry,' you mutter, 'I didn’t realize I was squeezing you so tightly.’

Kate steps closer to you, bending down to study your face with a furrowed brow. ‘You’re all flushed, too. Are you drunk?’

You laugh, but you're not sure why. The sound is a faint whisper of humour carrying with it the turmoil of confusion, sounding, altogether, like you could be drunk. You might be, you think. He makes your skin feel just as edgeless as when you are too many ciders deep and telling London it is your only true, passionate love affair.

‘Maybe?’ you manage, the words little more than a noise of delirium.

‘You only had three ciders,’ she chuckles, yet her eyes remain guarded.

‘Well,’ you shrug, turning in the direction of the night bus. Your feet move of their own accord, not bothering to see if she follows. ‘Nick will do that to you.’

Pulling out her phone to presumably text Baekhyun, she hums in agreement, but still you feel her eyes bore into your back as you walk away, watching and watching, almost certain you might disappear.

You realize you never said goodbye.

The night bus home is difficult.

Normally, you relish this journey, take your time savoring the top level of the bus which somehow always feels reserved for concert goers. This late at night, their voices carry, domed around you as they discuss the show, the highlights, or, conversely, simply not talking at all, choosing instead to relive the show through their headphones. Tonight you join them, settling in an open row of seats next to the window and resting your head against the glass, seeking the refreshing texture in the hopes that it will cool your skin.

Tonight should be no different from all your other post-gig journeys home, excitement palpable in the almost thick heat of the bus and the way there’s a rush of emotion as the bus pulls away from the stop. This is when you’d smile, take your headphones out and play your way through the setlist; other times, you’d eavesdrop on the other conversations, smiling at their reactions and responses, turning inward and tuning out only after you cross the bridge over the Thames and the conversation turns a bit quiet, and a bit personal.

But tonight, the difference is in you - in the way you still cannot shake the feeling of Chanyeol’s strong hands and the thick cream of his voice, the memory of him seeming to overtake the memory of the show altogether.

Headphones wound in your lap, you regard them with a small pout. The ringing in your ears will do you no favors should you listen to any music, but your hesitation to touch and to use them runs deeper than the usual post-gig tinnitus. Even now, you can still feel him, the paradoxically smooth roughness of his palms as they moved over your skin, and the way his voice made you vibrate, trembling into nothingness in the effort of seeking more. Now, the white wires of your headphones pose an element of distrust and betrayal, the ground rules of your connection seeming to change just as soon as you understand them, and you wonder if you’re ready to feel him again, if you could, or if you’ve even stopped.

Turning to glance out the window, London seems to pass in a crystal haze, the lights from the city dotting the river like miniature spotlights, the city still alive and glittering. The vibrancy of London puts a smile on your face, the memory of the last time you rode a bus mixing with the memories of all the times before you’ve looked out at the skyline and wondered who was living, who was dying, and how many stories could be contained beneath just one streetlight. These idle thoughts always compelled you, your love for London and for the heartbeat of the city always overtaking your thoughts once the bus grew quiet.

Now, your imagination has become consumed with a man and the frequency of a voice that haunts you. Staring down at your hands, you study the lines in your skin and wonder what you felt - if you truly were feeling. Already a naturally warm person, the tender hold of his hand in yours put a rush of blood in your fingers, making them appear swollen and pink. And while you could see through and beyond him, as though he were an ephemeral mirage comprised of a longing that reached down into the chasm of your essence, for one moment you swore you could see the pink of his knuckles as he held you, clutching at your bones in an effort to stitch your bodies together.

Tonight, too, the steps up to your door feel endless, walls of the stairway closing in and becoming tight, compressed. Laughter echoes around you, strange for this hour of the night when your neighbors are usually asleep or out even later than you. It doesn’t sound familiar but it doesn’t sound foreign, the richness of the tone giving way to a younger Mr. Kim and a female voice you place as his wife, Aki. How many times had they walked these stairs, holding hands and kissing wrists, laughing and laughing until they silenced one another with kisses that seared against their smiles? How many times had they pressed one another against these walls, pressing fingers to lips to keep quiet only to fall into one another instead?

Were they soulmates, too, long before the world allowed for such a love?

The nostalgia of these unlived experiences burns against your throat, a lump forming that seems out of place and altogether irrational. A missing has taken root within you, deep down and all over again, though this time it is not for Chanyeol but for a future and a past running in beside one another in tandem. Do you miss the idea of youth, spending too much time with Mr. Kim and watching the way time eats at a heart and at a person? Do you miss the connection that comes from bodies? Your last boyfriend was years ago, just before the solar flare, and even then you had stopped connecting long before you called the relationship off. Even when you were together, pressed against one another in bed and sharing breaths, you weren’t really there, heart and mind going elsewhere to find pleasure.

Perhaps, in the end, you simply miss the happiness of coming home to someone, coming home to Chanyeol, or, most likely, coming home at all. Pushing through your door, the silence seems to swallow you, the quietness of your flat unfit for the energy pooling at your fingertips. Home hasn't felt like home for months, not since you first played Neil Diamond on repeat for days. Something about your flat has felt off, right in the ways that are familiar and wrong as thought something terribly important had been lost, or never found at all. Tonight, the quiet of it all eats at you, skin still stinging with the strength of Chanyeol's touch, and you find you need sound to drown out this loneliness.

Stripping off your clothes, the freedom of your removed bra makes you smile, suddenly hyper aware of the curves of your body. Embodied as you are, you find you need music to hold you together, to press against you the way hands should be - the way Chanyeol's hands would.

Solomon Burke's record is torn at the sides, the edges fraying and taped too many times for you to count. It should never have been left in a charity shop, but then, if it hadn't you never would have come to own it. Faded and worn as its sleeve may be, the record still rings clean and true, the pressed black vinyl glossy and glimmering in the low light of your flat. Uncorking a bottle of wine, your lips go numb as your heart begins to race, head tilting to the side in the expectation of a mouth gliding along your neck. The hair on your arms stands on end, the atmosphere suddenly full of static, electric as it kisses against your skin.

The world fades, the familiarity of this comforting and so unlike the illusion of his touch at the concert. In this, you ground, the world around you silenced except for the music and for him.

‘God, I’ve missed you,' you mumble, knowing he can hear you just fine.

Redness spreads across your chest, a flush of embarrassment at your admission painting you pink and pink. Silly, you think, for there was nothing to miss. You're certain he had never left you.

Chanyeol's laugh is low, a thunder roll easily missed if one is not hanging on every sound he makes. ‘I can still feel you,' he says, though the words come together behind a soft, impatient whine. ‘You’re driving me wild.’

‘Speak for yourself,' you snort, watching the wine as you pour it through half lidded eyes. ‘You’re the one that found me, and now I’m wearing you. I didn’t think we’d be able to...do that.’

He hums in agreement, pride evident in the smile you can almost hear him wear. ‘This, too.’

You knit your brows together, corking the bottle as you glance around your flat, confused. ‘What do you mean?’

‘It’s the first time I’m hearing you without headphones.'

Eyes widening, your gaze lands on the record as it turns and turns, the glimmers of light swirling over the record as it plays. Your headphones, earbuds and studio over-ear alike, are in your bedroom, packed away for their use tomorrow when you'll need them for your commute. Out of habit and the inherent human need for rationality, you look around your flat, feeling him close and hearing his breath as falls in a rushed, excited rhythm. Outside your window, the streetlights take on an otherworldly glow, the fabric of your couches, chairs, and curtains suddenly richer, deeper, your world coloured entirely by his presence.

Overwhelmed, you find all you can manage is the painfully simple, whispered exclamation, 'Oh, my god.'

He moves, that much is evident by the sound of his rustling clothes, and you turn around, looking for his shadow.

‘It’s the clearest you’ve ever been,' he says, sounding pleased. The joy of it, the joy and the shock and the clarity of him is heady, and you reach a hand out, gripping your counter. 'You’re surrounding me.’

Once again, he is not wrong, the sound of his voice seeming to fill the empty corners of your house and mind. Your grip on the counter tightens, joints aching from the effort of keeping still. If he were here, you'd reach for him, pull him to you and kiss him until your lungs hurt from lack of breath. If he were just as needy, maybe he'd place you on the counter top, spilling your wine as his hands massaged bruises into your thighs, leaving marks on your neck for the world to see.

It's shocking, you realize, what the sound of his voice can do. Just one laugh and already he stains the walls.

Swallowing thickly, you take in a long inhale, hoping to clear your mind and focus. ‘So you were at the show.’

It is not a question, just a statement of fact.

Chanyeol's laugh is one of disbelief and one of comfort, an odd mix of emotions you read so easily and find yourself getting drunk on just the same. Glancing down, you see the wine, untouched. ‘It’s so bizarre you just know it,' he says, breathless in his delight. ‘It’s like continuing a conversation we never started.’

‘So you were there tonight?’ you repeat, needing to hear his confirmation and refusing to let yourself run wild with the sheer magnitude of him.

‘Yeah, I was,' he admits. ‘I started feeling like you were there and...I don’t know.’ Chanyeol falls silent, but just as clearly as you can hear him, so too does your mind see him. He blushes, looking down at his hands and standing in the same place as you, sleeveless grey shirt revealing the muscles in his arms as he holds onto the counter. ‘I couldn’t help myself.’

The sound of your heartbeat fills your ears, and while you want to rush forward and talk and talk, for a moment you are speechless.

Chanyeol is in London.

There are no seas separating you.

Tonight, he was at the concert and just as easily as sharing a song, so too can you share the city. This kind of confirmation is worthy of a celebration, a late night phone call or text message to give an address, a number, a cab ride to a doorstep so hands and mouths can finally meet. But you don't mention it or expand on it, biting the side of your tongue in hesitation instead. Blood rushing in your ears interrupts all your fantasies, mouth unsure you're ready for your own admission to make it real.

When it's real, it breaks, and you're still unsure you're ready to be moved beyond the confines of the earth.

Blinking slowly, you ground yourself back in the deep breaths he takes to keep himself calm, and smile. 'I'm glad you didn't.' Once more, your eyes find your wine glass, hand reaching for the stem to swirl it around and around. 'It's been a long time since I've felt someone hold me so close at a concert. You were keeping me warm.'

Almost immediately, he replies. ‘Don’t talk about someone else's hands on you.' It is neither a demand not a command, but a plea. ‘I don’t like picturing it.’

Smirking, you cock your head to the side, the honey sweet drip of arousal running down your spine. ‘Possessive already?’

‘Yes,' comes his quick, unashamed reply. ‘Everyone before doesn’t matter,' he clarifies, eyes falling closed to keep himself calm, 'but I still can’t help it. My hands have been aching all night. I'll never have my fill of you.'

Uncertain how to reply, you simply smile. You smile straight ahead and at nothing at all, knowing that he can feel it. Nothing matters anymore, so long as he can feel it.

‘I wouldn’t have expected you to be there,' he says, words falling quickly in an effort of making the most of your time together. 'There weren’t many women, especially towards the front.’

Rolling your eyes, you sigh, tired of these types of gendered comments men so easily make when it comes to rock music. ‘Then you weren’t looking hard enough.’

Chanyeol, however, acquiesces easily. ‘True,' he affirms. ‘Though, to be fair, I was really only looking for you.’ You both fall into the memory, of the way you found one another in the breadth of a moment, in a setlist, and in the all encompassing ecstasy that comes from live music. ‘That’s my favourite song of his,' Chanyeol shares, sounding almost shy. 'From Her To Eternity is so powerful.'

Something about this makes you feel young, impossibly young and carefree, like your longtime crush has just admitted he likes the same things as you, and therefore it must be destiny. You laugh, feeling yourself go light headed from the force of it, and remind yourself that it is. It is actually destiny.

‘Mine too,' you agree, giggling. ‘It’s funny, people don’t mention that deep cut.’

‘Deep cut?’ he questions, and you have to stop yourself from sighing in deep affection at the image of his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. ‘Do you know something I don’t?’

‘No...just…’ Your words die, backtracking from your blanket statement. ‘It doesn’t get chosen very often as a favourite, is all.’

Seeming to realize that your time together is coming short, the end of side A looming closer, Chanyeol changes the subject. ‘I didn’t think I’d find you in this record.’

Humming, you look back at the record, and the torn somewhat bent edges of the sleeve. 'That's true,' you nod at no one in particular. 'It's a hard record to find, which is a shame because Cry To Me is the best part of Dirty Dancing.’

A small noise of uncertainty blooms from Chanyeol's chest, curiosity and interest blending together in one small, magical sound. ‘I don’t know what that is.'

Baffled and overtaken by skepticism, you laugh. Normally, such statements make you roll your eyes in disgust but there is something so wonderfully endearing about his joke you cannot help but smile. ‘That’s literally impossible. You’re such a guy.’

A low, slow rumble quakes in his chest, your eyes falling shut in preparation of the thickness of pleasure you know he is about to adopt. ‘If dirty dancing is what you want…’

‘Don’t start,' you whisper, mind replaying the sound over and over, addicted. ‘You’ve got me drunk on you.’

‘Speak for yourself,' he teases, mirroring your earlier statement.

For a brief moment, you can almost see him. Bottom lip caught between his teeth, his wide eyes look longing through you, hoping to find and touch and hold whatever part of you he can access. Like this, you both fall quiet, looking everywhere and nowhere for one another, and eventually, the shift of the earth on its axis makes your body sway, overcome by your unintentional stillness. Just like you could at the concert, you feel his hand reach for your waist, catching you, and it is this contact that makes you understand the difference between imagination and connection.

Where imagination is distant and feather light, a super imposition of assumption onto expectation, this is is a cosmic wave in which your drown, skin and soul and heart rattled by the impossibility and intensity of him. Neither fictional nor imagined, he is hyper-present and he is cosmic, a sunbeam trick that runs along the endings of your nerves.

‘So, do you like soul music, then?’ he asks, breaking your silence with an anxious tension at the back of his throat. His words are thick, heavy things that weigh against you, and you know he too is struggling to hold himself together.

A slow smile tugs at your lips, a lopsided grin of adoration. ‘I love it,’ you begin, pressing your tongue against your teeth unsure if you should continue. There’s so much on this you want to say, so much you normally give to other people with little passion returned. But he’s your soulmate, and if he’s really yours he will give back in spades. ‘Most days, I think it’s my favourite genre. It’s speaks of human connection in a way that I think other genres just can’t comprehend.’

‘Absolutely,’ he agrees, enthusiasm palpable in every syllable. ‘Their voices are full of the full spectrum of human emotion...it’s like they’ve felt so much more than I ever could. Every lyric is a love letter.’

Silently, you chuckle to yourself, eyes roaming up towards your ceiling in thanks to a God you never really had faith in. ‘Every time I listen to it, especially to an Otis song -’

‘God, I love Otis,’ he interrupts, over eager. ‘Sorry,’ comes his rushed apology, bemused by his excitement. ‘It’s just good to talk about it with someone.’

‘It’s okay.’

You want to reassure him everything he will ever say, every interruption is fine and good and gold, because you want, more than anything, to listen to him speak until the sun goes black. But Chanyeol remains quiet, impatiently waiting for you to continue, and you are so willing to give him absolutely everything he desires.

‘It’s so hard to explain…’ Your words fade, mind struggling to form a sentence that could convey the depth of your emotion. ‘He moves me,’ you finally announce, uncertain anything further needs to be said.

You have said this before. This thought and opinion is not unfamiliar or new. You have said as much to countless other people, people who simply laugh and tell you this thought is incomplete. Movement is born from a moment of pleasure, a spark and release of joy, and rarely is such a feeling understood outside of the moment in which it exists. To everyone else, this thought is illogical - not impossible, just unusual.

But Chanyeol sighs, a long exclamation of understanding, his heart and soul wilting directly into yours, finally witnessed. ‘Yeah?’ he swoons, urging you to continue with the force of his ardor.

Turning, you lean back against the counter, tilting your head upwards as though anticipating a kiss. ‘He was so young,’ you continue, voice small and distant, longing tracing every word on your tongue, ;but the way he spoke and the way he sang…’ You drift, trembling at the sudden sensation of a light touch ghosting along your cheek. You think it might be his nose as he runs it along your skin, breathing you in. ‘His music always feels like he’s lived three lifetimes, and loved, intensely, his way through each of them. I think I’d like to live like that.’

With his hands on you, you don’t even apologize for the slight stutter to your speech, affected.

‘Intensely in love?’ he whispers, and you lean into the sound, wanting.

‘Yeah.’

The sensation shifts to your other cheek, and you tilt your head in the mime of granting permission. Barely there grazes move along the edge of your cheekbone, tickling a phantom of wave of affection in its wake. But he remains silent, expecting and yearning for more.

‘For a long time,’ you manage, voice strained against your tight throat, ‘it was something I thought I’d ever want or need, that feeling of being loved through your humanity and into your spirit. I never thought I’d want it, because it couldn’t exist or, if it did, it was rare enough most of humanity shouldn’t bother trying to find it.’

‘A losing game,’ he clarifies, wistful and longing in his agreement.

Briefly reminded of Amy Winehouse, the distant melody plays in your mind. You wonder if he likes her as much as you. ‘But now -’ you raise your hands, curling your fingers and almost feeling the hard muscles of his hips as you pull him into you, ‘it’s like unlocking a door, you know? Stepping through to the other side and realizing, finally, what everyone had been singing about. I want that...to be loved so intensely, so in love, that it becomes the one thing I never question.’

Drowning in one another, you let yourself be held, body warming to a temperature that makes you crave the refreshment of air conditioning. Your skin is flushed, cheeks and neck and knuckles a reddish pink from both heat and desire, the rhythm of your heart putting a sheen of sweat at your brow. You don’t know when you got so warm, when he became a fire for your hands alone, but you don’t mind. If having him means burning, you don’t ever want to be cooled.

‘I want that, too.’ His forehead rests against yours, the last force of a touch you know is about to fade. ‘I want to give that to you.’

And with that, he is gone. The record stops, apartment quiet enough to make your teeth and ears ache, Side A complete. Normally, you’d whine and let yourself grieve, screaming to yourself that you want it, god how you want that, too, but tonight, for some reason, there is no place for such woe.

Chanyeol is in London.

Chanyeol is in London and now you have both heard and felt and learned him.

Chanyeol is in London.

It won’t be long now.

#chanyeol x reader #chanyeol fanfic #exosnet #kpopwonderlandtag #prettyboysnetwork #chanyeol scenario #chanyeol au #chanyeol fanfiction #exo au #exo scenario #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #chanyeol fluff #chanyeol romance #park chanyeol

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coffeecomicsgalore · 4 years

Text

Unveiled Love

@smutember

Ao3

Chapter 8 – Long Distance

It's been said and done

Every beautiful thought's been already sung

And I guess right now here's another one

So your melody will play on and on, with the best of 'em

You are beautiful, like a dream come alive, incredible

A centerfold, a miracle, lyrical

You've saved my life again

And I want you to know baby

Marinette hummed as she perused the aisles of the fabric store. She was looking for something to inspire her, anything to get her away from her current studies. Everything was weighing on her heavily, and she needed some reprieve to keep her focused while Adrien was gone. With her earbuds in her ears, she sang along to one of her favorite songs, singing quietly to herself as she touched a silky fabric.

Constantly, boy you played through my mind like a symphony

There's no way to describe what you do to me

You just do to me, what you do

And it feels like I've been rescued

I've been set free, I am hypnotized by your destiny

You are magical, lyrical, beautiful

You are, and I want you to know baby

Marinette picked up a mint-colored cotton thread fabric. She brushed her fingers over the embroidered flower that was embedded every few centimeters. She liked the way the cotton felt underneath her fingertips, and her mind began to swim with ideas of what could be created with this fabric.

She managed to hold onto the fabric bolt as she made her way down, looking for a cream-colored cotton bolt that could easily be made into a top. The thought of something with accented pearls along the neckline would look both sophisticated and comfortable, something that could be easily worn while working in her office. A knee length green flowy skirt would look amazing, and even adding a large bow to the back could give it a 50’s flare.

No one compares

You stand alone, to every record I own

Music to my heart that's what you are

I, I love you like a love song, baby

I, I love you-

The sweet piano melody filled her ears as her song paused. Smiling, she pulled the phone from her pocket and the dorky contact image of Adrien with drawn on cat ears displayed on her phone screen. Quickly pressing the accept button, she waited until she heard him on the other end before answering.

“Adrien!” Marinette called to him, keeping her voice low. “I missed you!”

“Hey bugaboo.” Adrien responded back. She could hear the smile in his voice. “I missed you too. What are you up to?”

Marinette locked the screen and pocketed the phone, then placed the two bolts of fabric into her cart. “Oh, just walking around Monsieur's Fabric Emporium. I couldn’t deal with the Statistics notes that I need to learn for the test on Friday, and if I didn’t take a break, I was going to go insane.”

“Statistics is a hard course. Good for you for going out a bit. Got a design in mind?”

“Now I do. I decided to look at fabric to get ideas first. I decided on a mint flare skirt with a large bow around the waist and a cream-colored top.” Marinette stared at the different spools of green thread to match the bolt.

“That sounds amazing. I heard there was an akuma the other day. How did it go?”

Marinette looked around to see if there were any patrons around her. She lowered her voice just in case and decided to speak in code. “Not too shabby. Ms. Fox and Bee Bee managed to keep him going while DJ Protector decided he needed to get there earlier than necessary. Not sure why, but then the entire meeting went ten times longer than normal. Even the secret weapon was no match for his counter skills. It would have gone so much faster had you been there.”

Adrien could hear her voice breaking at the end, and his heart panged with guilt for having to leave so suddenly. While he was already 10 days into the trip, he still had four more days to go before he could fly home and be with her. He tried to make the process go quicker so he could get home sooner, but every time he did, things fell apart.

“You really do miss me, huh?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. Of course, I do. I’ve been feeling so empty without you.”

“Do you?” She hummed in agreeance. It sounded slightly muffled, yet Adrien could tell she was nodding as she agreed with him. He chuckled at the thought.

“Well, besides this vibrator that I’m wearing, I'm pawsitively lonely without you.” She added with a purr and he straightened at her words.

“You- you’re wearing the vibrator I bought you? Right now? While you’re in the store?”

“Yeah...” she drawled out as she grabbed a couple of packets of pearl beads and inspected them. “I wear it whenever I feel absolutely empty and need something to fill me up. It’s not you, though, but it helps me pretend that it’s you.”

Adrien grabbed his headset and placed it on his ears as he hooked it into its jack. He switched open the app and hovered his thumb over the ‘On’ button.

“You’re right, it isn’t me.” His voice became low and husky as he pressed on the button on the first setting. Marinette’s knees buckled as she felt the bullet begin to vibrate within her, and she clenched onto the cart as she felt it shake her core. “But hopefully this little game will help you.”

“Adrien...” She began, but he increased the speed causing her to cough to stop the moan that was threatening to leave her lips. Adrien turned the dial back down the first setting and let her get used to the vibrations.

“You miss this cock inside you, don’t you?”

Marinette cleared her throat as she tried to walk, nodding at the phone instead of trying to speak. She realized her stupidity and finally let out a muffled hum, and Adrien chuckled in response.

“I want to hear your voice, princess.” He switched the setting to a two and the vibrations switched from a steady hum to a pulsating beat. She gasped at the change. “You miss this cock inside you, don’t you my love?”

“Ye- yes, Adrien. I miss it. I mi-miss y-you.”

“Good.” Adrien turned the setting back to a one, but increased the speed to two. “Be a good girl and tell me what you’re doing right now.”

Marinette tried to slow down her rapid heartbeat as the vibrations rattled her clit. The feeling felt so good, yet she wished he went harder with the settings. Being in the store while he was controlling her actions was doing wonders to her libido, and she wished she could play with herself to help get herself further to the edge.

“Walking.”

“Walking...” He drawled out to help her along.

“LookING.” He increased the speed to a five making her voice increase quickly. Her knees buckled again as she grasped onto the cart before she straightened herself up.

“Looking for what?”

“Beads.” She moaned out then cleared her throat. “Pearls. For the top.” She breathed out.

“Good.” He turned up the settings again until it pulsated with a heavy beat. “You know what would look great in your cart?”

“Mm?” She hummed out, the feeling of her coil beginning to twist low within her belly. Her breathing picked up as little mewls started to spill from her lips, and Adrien smirked at the success of his actions.

“Rope.” Her knees buckled again at his words. “And a blindfold.”

“Adrien...” She sputtered out as he increased the settings. “Adrien. I’m close.” She whispered.

Increasing the setting one more time, he could hear the increased mewls and the gasping of air. Adrien whispered into her earphones, with an intense sultry tone that he knew would get her off, “Cum.”

All of a sudden, Marinette gripped the cart, her knuckles white from the intense grip as she came down hard. She let out a muffled groan as she hunched over the cart, breathing in and out through her nose as best she could. Adrien finally turned off the vibrator and cleared his throat, waiting for Marinette to catch her breath.

“Fuck.” She finally breathed out as soon as she came down from her high. She straightened her back as she wiped her brow, and brought her hand to her cheek to cool down her flushed skin.

She looked up and noticed the store clerk looking at her, and she pursed her lips as she meekly waved to him.

“Do you need help, mademoiselle? You seem to be having some trouble.”

Marinette’s already flushed cheeks blushed crimson. “N-no. I’m. I’m okay. Just feeling a bit warm, is all.” The clerk stared at her with one brow perked in contemplation. “Really. Just slightly lightheaded. I’m okay.”

“If you’re sure...”

“Yup! Just menopause!” She yelled out, and she slapped her hand over her mouth. The clerk mouthed out ‘okay’ as she bit her lip to kill the groan that tried to come out. He gave her one more look and she nodded to indicate she was really okay, then the clerk finally walked away, shaking his head as he went back to stocking the shelves. She let out the breath that she was holding in, but stopped the moment she heard chuckling at the other end of the line.

“Adrien-” She tried to scold, but Adrien interrupted her.

“I’ll call you later. Love you! Bye!” He sang before hanging up on her, leaving a flushed Marinette to handle the aftermath on her own, finishing the song as it replayed in her ears.

#smutember #smutember 2020 #Unveiled Love #adrienette #long distance #ml fanfiction #lemon

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durifmdarchived · 4 years

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self para.

date: early december. character(s) involved: mentions of @fmdmaverick, also the army of dogs. about: duri goes to tiffany’s and buys matching promise rings for his & kai’s first year anniversary + other gifts (but the promise rings are more important.) trigger warnings: n/a. notes: i feel like i’ve mentioned this gift to chy like multiple times over the past six months, so here are,, finally putting it into gear <3. am i writing today to pretend like i don’t have finals tomorrow? yes. word count: 1,001.

he was trying to be as secretive as he possibly could, to say the last. he had waited for kai to leave the house first that day, before he would venture out himself, and get back before kai would get back. it was one of duri’s off days, so today was the best day to get what he was planning on getting. duri pretended that he was resting with the dogs, it was the easiest way to get away with the plans that he had for the day. but, it wouldn’t really take him that long, he was sure of it. once kai had left, he sprung into action, by quickly getting ready to leave the house. he was, of course, covering himself up, just so no one would be able to recognize him or anything of the sort. nonetheless, he put on everything, before he would head to the foyer of the house. he picked out a pair of matching shoes, placing them upon his feet. he would turn around to finn, kangaroo, angel, peanut butter, and moose, before he would speak. “be good while i’m gone, okay? i’ll be back quickly, so just nap! we’ll play when i get back,” he said, giggling softly as he noticed the tails going. “bye bye, see you soon,” he added onto his words. he hit the alarm, before heading out the front door, and placed his ear buds in. he couldn’t help but to listen to his christmas playlist, as he was much in the mood for that type of cheer currently. nonetheless, on foot, before he’d take the train, he made his way to his destination.

he was on his way to samseong-dong to visit tiffany & co. they had rings that he liked the best from his research online when kai wasn’t around to see what he was doing. he really wanted to get them both matching promise rings, just as a special little thing. something that probably couldn’t wear out in public or often, but it was still something rather nice, something to give to his soulmate; why wouldn’t he take such an opportunity? he really just wanted something special, and he felt like this was something that was incredibly special. so, excitement had easily set in for his plans and he hoped that kai liked the promise rings, but he was very sure that kai definitely did. nonetheless, he got onto the train, which was a rather quick ride to samseong-dong, earbuds within his ears the entire time. he was just sure to watch his stops the entire times, taking comfort in the christmas music that played through his ears. once the stop had arrived, he got up, exited, and made his way.

his hands slipped into his coat pockets, to keep them away from the bitter cold that was fighting against them. he made his way around samseong-dong, looking for 159-7. after a few minutes of walking the streets of the neighborhood, he comes upon the tiffany & co building, a soft placed against his lips. he takes a deep breath, before he walked inside of the store, instead of standing outside of it as if he was audrey hepburn in breakfast at tiffany’s, just without the coffee and breakfast. eyes light up at all the jewelry that lingered the cases, looking upon all the different things that they had to offer; bracelets, necklaces, rings, and then finally, the promise rings that he had been looking at online. luckily, he already knew both his and kai’s ring sizes off the top of his heads. however, he was a bit stuck on what promise rings to get. so, he sent photos to his aunt to ask her opinion on what promise rings to get - which resulted in her laughing a bit and asking him if this was the eighties, which had of course made him giggle a bit. but, it also made his heart happy when his aunt told him that his uncle said that his parents had done the same thing in the eighties. it was a rather sweet thought.

he points out two matching promise rings, that were subtle, but still rather nice. it was something that people wouldn’t notice, something that would be like friendship rings, if they were to wear them. “i’m getting my friend and myself friendship rings for christmas!” he explains to the jeweler, their face lighting up because of how excited he seemed. “ah, that’s sweet. you and your friend are rather close, aren’t you?” they asked, a nod coming from duri. “we are! i thought this would be rather nice,” he said. they nod, “keep them in your life, they seem important,” they responded, before asking for the ring sizes, and duri had given them. the friendship rings were a bit of a lie to the real thing, but that was really nice to have be able to have an anniversary around christmas, as it made it easier to be more sneaky. but, he stepped back, awaiting for the jeweler to get the promise ring sizes and package them up in that ever so famous tiffany blue box. he gets rung up, where he proceeds to pay, and thanks the employee. he makes his way out with a sweet goodbye, before heading to pick up just a few more things that he thinks kai would like for the anniversary, and things to package the stuff up.

duri had quickly gotten back to the train, to get back to where he lives, and making it back to the house. once getting inside, he would be sure to put his shoes back perfectly, before going to hide the anniversary gifts with the dogs. he’d go to the closet to get undressed and back to what he had been wearing earlier, before curling up on the couch to cuddle with the dogs like he had pretended like he was doing. it was the perfect way to get things done. he was content.

#⌜ self para. ⌝

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bamby0304 · 5 years

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The Spice of Life- Ch.1

Series Masterlist

Summary: After your character is killed off on the show, Supernatural, you take up your best friend’s offer to live with her while adjusting to your new life. Under the Ackles’ roof, you quickly have your life turned upside down once more when secrets come to light. Before you know it… you’re dragged into the heat of it all, and you love every second of it.

Paring: Danneel x Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: I will not be doing a series specific tag list. Any asks requesting to be tagged in the story will be deleted. Thank you @dean-winchesters-bacon for looking the chapter over xx

Warnings: Explicit language. Poly relationships. Smut. F/F. Fingering. Thigh riding. Oral (female receiving).

Bamby

When you were told your character was going to get killed off you hadn’t been too shocked. Female leads often got the cut in Supernatural, so you were more surprised to have lasted four years than when you heard about your character’s demise. Even though you’d always been waiting for the chop, that didn’t mean you knew what you were going to do next.

Supernatural was like a world of its own. The people were all family, everyone was tight knit. During the years you’d been part of the cast you’d quickly forgotten to keep up to date with the real world. So when you found yourself standing in your trailer after filming that fateful scene… your last scene… you suddenly had no idea where to go next.

Luckily, you had friends.

Months prior, Jensen and Jared had told their wives about your situation, and both women had eagerly invited you to stay with them. You lived in Vancouver but had no reason to stay there without a job. They knew how disorientating it could be after leaving the show, and they were more than willing to help get you on your feet.

In the end you decided to take Danneel up on the offer, which is how you found yourself standing in the spare room of her and Jensen’s amazing home.

“Does Gen hate me?” you asked Jared, looking down at your screen as you video called him.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “She is a little disappointed, but she doesn’t blame you. Dani is a cool chick.” He gave you a reassuring smile.

You felt guilty for leaving Mrs. Padalecki alone, having chosen to stay at the Ackles’ instead. But you’d known Dani for almost a decade. You’d met her before you met Jensen. In fact you got the job on Supernatural because of your friendship with the Ackles’. Part of you felt like you owed them for the last five years of your life.

Now here you were, just adding to the list of reasons why you owed them.

“Hey Y/N you wanna-” Dani came to a stop in your doorway, eyes dropping to your phone. “Who ya talkin’ to?”

Turning the phone so she could see the face on the screen, you answered, “Jared.”

“Oh!” Her face lit up as she hurried into the room and dropped onto the bed beside you so you could both fit in the screen. “Hey!”

“Hey.” He smiled back at her, making the corner of his eyes crease. “You two ladies having fun?”

“We’re about to. I’m planning a full Disney night with the kids.” Dani grinned mischievously.

You knew that meant you were going to have to listen to all three of them singing every song, and mumbling every line of dialogue. So really… you were watching the kids, not the movies.

“And in a couple of days we’re having a girls day. The kids are going out, so it’s just gonna be us two, and Gen.” Leaning over, she rested her head on your shoulder. “As much as I wanna keep my favourite girl to myself, I know Gen will never forgive me for hogging.”

Jared laughed lightly, nodding. “You’re not wrong there. Just… try not to have too much fun without Jensen and me.”

“Can’t make any promises.” Dani winked at him.

Something felt… weird.

As the two of them said their goodbyes, you watched carefully. You noted the way Jared tilted his head ever so slightly, a little shy and a little smitten. Dani had this gleam in her eye as she gazed at him through the screen. You could hear the subtle changes in their tones, too…

“Y/N… you okay?” Jared asked, pulling you out of your daze.

Shaking away that train of thought, you nodded quickly. “Mmhm. Yep. I’m fine. I’ll, uh… I’ll talk to you later, Jare. Gotta go. Bye.” Without waiting for him to respond, you ended the call.

Dani’s jaw dropped as you tossed your phone onto the bed. “Y/N what’s gotten into-”

“Are you cheating on Jensen with Jared?” There was no point in beating around the bush.

Her jaw quickly dropped as she stared at you like a doe caught in headlights… and then she laughed and shook her head. “No!” She leaned back and pressed a hand to her stomach as she continued to laugh. “Oh my God.”

Shocked by her outburst, and a little defensive, you explained yourself, “But… the way you two were talking to each other. Seemed like there was something there.”

Taking a moment to calm down, she took a deep breath and then shrugged. “Well, yeah, you’re not wrong. But I’m not cheating.”

“What?” You were thoroughly confused.

“Sweetie,” she tilted her head and watched you carefully as she went on, “Jensen and I have an open relationship… and Jared and I take full advantage of it.”

Holy shit… “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, chuckling lightly.

“How long has this been going on for?”

“A couple of years.” She shrugged.

Wow. You had not been expecting that. Danneel was your best friend, Jensen and Jared were close seconds- with Gen in the mix, of course. The fact you hadn’t known about this little arrangement, that you hadn’t even picked up on a hint of something more, really made you question how observant you were. Had you just been tuned out this whole time?

Watching as your mind whirled, Dani’s frowned ever so slightly. “Hey.” She reached out and took your hand. “We’re good, right?”

“Huh?”

“You… you don’t think any less of us, do you?”

“Oh my God, no!” You shook your head frantically, turning your hand over to intertwine your fingers with hers. “Dani, no. God, how could you even think that?”

“I just… I know it’s not normal, or conventional.”

“What part of ours lives is ‘normal’ or ‘conventional’? Your husband is away most of the year. Like… pretty much the entire year. You don’t see him, and you don’t see Jared, who I know is a dear friend of yours. I’m honestly shocked I never put the pieces together before this.”

Smile returning, she gave your hand a squeeze. “I’m glad you understand.”

“Of course I do. You’re my best friend. I love you.” You gave a firm nod.

Chuckling lightly, she got to her feet and gave you a gentle tug. “Come on. Let’s go get the kids ready for movie night.”

Neither of you let go of the other as you left the room, and headed for the living room where you knew a night of chaotic fun was waiting.

...

The night was better than you could have imagined. The kids were a blast, giggling and singing along to the numerous movies you all ended up watching. You did notice, however, that all the dancing did tire them out- not as quickly as one would hope, though.

By the time Dani and you had put them all to bed, it was nearing midnight. Once all the kids were fast asleep and no longer crawling out of bed to sneak around, you both collapsed back on the couch to take a much needed break.

“One last movie?” Dani asked as reached for the remote to switch to flick through the list of things Netflix had to offer.

“As long as it’s not Disney, animated, or a musical… yes,” you laughed lightly.

Chuckling, she gave a small nod. “Gotcha.”

As she scrolled through lists and lists of shows and movies, one thing in particular caught your eyes.

“You, Me, Her?”

Dani paused for a moment before scrolling back up until the movie was back in view. The two of you stared at it, silent… and then she turned it on without a comment.

It was clear, within a few moments of the show starting, that your attention wasn’t fully focused on the screen. While your eyes remained watching, your mind wandered. You couldn’t help but think about Dani and Jensen’s situation…

When your attention returned to the show, you found yourself watching as one of the female leads- Emma- stood in a restaurant bathroom before the other female character- Izzy- came in to check on her.

You watched, waiting, wondering to see what would happen… and was shocked to watch as Emma then pushed Izzy against the wall and crash her lips against hers. You were unable to look away as they began to make out… and you were unable to ignore the bubbling of heat that began to stir in your stomach.

Eyes flickering over to Dani, you didn’t miss the way she shifted on the spot. As if she could feel your eyes on her, she turned to catch your gaze.

Chewing on her lip, thinking for a moment, she hesitated before reaching for the remote and turning the show off.

“Talk to me.”

“You and Jared… how far does it go?” You weren’t even sure you wanted to know the answer.

“All the way.”

“And… does Gen know?”

“She’s in on it.”

“Oh! So, her and Jensen?”

Lips curving into a grin, she nodded. “Yeah. Her and Jensen. Me and Gen. Jared and Jensen. We’re open to it all.” There was a glimmer in her eye as she continued to watch you.

Your back was pressed against the arm of the long couch, on the opposite to her. Your legs were curled on the couch, tucked under a thin knitted blanket. Despite the cozy position, and the cool air in the room… you couldn’t help but shift as your chest began to heave, while you grew warm.

“You and Gen?”

“I’ve always been into girls… or don’t you remember?” The glimmer in her eyes turned dark.

Oh, you remembered. You remembered that night, after too many tequila shots you’d both taken in an attempt to drown the memory of your boyfriend that had dumped you that night. Instead it had drowned you inhibitions… which is how you’d ended up in Dani’s bed. That’s how you found yourself below Dani, with her lips trailing along her neck, sucking dark bruises into your skin as you both rocked against each other, seeking friction.

“I remember,” you breathed, feeling a light flutter of anxious anticipation in your chest.

Humming, she didn’t hide the way her eyes dragged over you. “I think about that night.”

Trying to control your breathing, you somehow managed to respond, “You do?”

“Mmhm.” She nodded, shifting until her knee was on the couch, her whole body turned towards you. “You ever wish we’d done more?”

You swallowed thickly. “More?”

“I do.” Slowly, she leaned forward until she was on her hands and knees, those darkened eyes drinking in the sight of you. “I think about it a lot. I think about how good you tasted… and how other places would taste.” Reaching forward, she curled her fingers around the edge of the blanket draped over you. “I think about the soft purrs you made… and how I wanted them to be louder.” Gently, slowly, she began to drag the blanket away. “I wonder if you’re a screamer.”

Breath hitched in your throat, you could do nothing but watch as she moved further up the couch. She didn’t stop until she was hovering over you, her lips just a couple of inches from yours.

“If you want this,” she started, voice husky, eyes watching as your lips parted on a needy breath, “you’re gonna have to tell me.” Her gaze flicked up to meet yours.

Searching those familiar caramel eyes, you found you’d made your mind up a long time ago.

Reaching up, you wrapped an arm around her neck and pulled her down, crashing her lips onto yours.

She grinned against you, recovering quickly. The kiss deepened as she leaned down to press her body against yours. You could feel the heat of her skin, the thrum her her pulse, and you had no doubt she could feel the frantic drumming of your heart in your chest.

Her hand grasped your hip as she flicked her tongue against you. Moaning, you opened your lips and drowned in the taste of her as her tongue tangled with yours. Dragging your leg up her thigh, you hooked it over her, wrapping your legs around her as you pulled her flush against you. Sliding her hand up, she snuck it under your shirt and up to your chest, where she squeezed your breast before pinching your nipple between two fingers.

Throwing your head back, you groaned as she twisted and tweaked your nipple, pulling more sounds from you that only encouraged her antics.

Taking advantage of your arched back, Dani leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the pulse on your neck. You jumped at the touch, and moaned, eager for more which she gave.

Sealing her lips over the spot, she sucked a dark mark onto your skin as you writhed under her. Her fingers glided down your sides as she brought them down to the edges of your pyjama pants. Hooking fingers into the band, she began to drag them down. Trailing her lips over your exposed chest, and then over your shirt, before meeting the sensitive skin of your stomach, she looked up and caught your eye as she pulled your pants off.

Grasping your thighs, she spread them as she leaned in to press open mouthed kisses to the edge of your panties. Watching her, breathing heavily, you quickly tugged your shirt over your head and threw it onto the floor. You could feel her lips curl into a grin against you, before she gave your hip a little nip.

Pulling back to sit on her heels, she held your gaze as she began to pluck at the buttons of her pyjama shirt, undoing them one by one. You couldn’t look away- not that you wanted to- as she began to slowly open the shirt to reveal her chest.

Pushing off the arm of the couch, you wrapped an arm around her neck once more as you pressed your lips to hers in an eager and clumsy kiss. Your fingers carded into her hair, holding her against you as she guided you back down. Nipping and sucking on your lips, she groaned into your mouth as her fingers trailed down between your thighs.

Tearing her lips from yours, she met your gaze as her fingers teased your covered slit. You sucked in a breath and jumped, needy but nervous.

Leaning down, she ghosted her lips against the shell of your ear. “Trust me.”

Humming, you turned to press your lips to her jaw as she stroked you gently. “I do.”

Moving back, she pulled away until she was an inch from your lips. “Good.”

Fingers plucked at your panties, pushing them to the side. You whimpered at the first touch of her skin on yours. The way she stroked you slowly, circling your clit, adding just the right amount of pressure to make you arch into her. Pressing at your entrance, she watched as your face twisted with pleasure and need.

Teasingly and agonisingly slow, she pushed two fingers into you.

“Oh, God!” you groaned throwing your head back and tugging on her hair.

Grinning down at you, she pressed her fingers in further, curling them as she sought out that sweet spot. Leaning in, she nipped at your neck, dragging her lips along the hard thrum of your pulse.

When she found your the spot that made you dizzy with need, she barely grazed it before pulling her fingers away. You whined, desperate for more, which just made her chuckle before thrusting her fingers back into you at the same agonising pace.

Each thrust was a tease that slowly worked you up until you were begging. Even then, she didn’t give you what you wanted as she dragged out your delicious torture. Straddling your thigh, she began to grind against you, seeking friction for herself as she watched you unravel underneath her.

It wasn’t until you found yourself unable to form proper word to beg any further when she finally gave you what you needed.

Crawling down your body, she pulled her fingers away from you. A whine barely left your lips before she began to drag your panties down your legs. You watched over your heaving chest, hands coming up to squeeze your breasts and pinch your nipples. You watched as she threw your panties onto the floor.

Lips curled into a grin that made you clench around nothing, she crawled between your thighs… and hooked them over her shoulders before pressing a kiss to your slit.

Whatever sound you’d been about to make was suddenly caught in your throat as you fisted the couch cushion underneath you, and threw your head back.

Dani paid close attention to the way you reacted to her as she licked and sucked at your slit and clit. Whenever she found a spot that made you whine in desperation, she would graze over it teasingly before moving on. She loved driving you wild, barely giving you a taste of the pleasure you craved.

The brush of her fingers against your entrance made you nod eagerly, and mumble words that would have sounded like pleas if you’d been coherent. Once she’d had the fill in your desperation, she thrust her fingers into you in one smooth move, curled her fingers, and found your sweet spot.

Your hand shot up to your mouth, teeth clamping down one flesh as you held back your scream. Twitching and thrusting against her face, you cried into your fist as a wave of white hot bliss burned your nerves.

As you tried to catch your breath and come down from your climax, Dani remained between your legs, kissing your inner thigh as she gently stroked your walls. Not once did she look away from you, drinking in the sight of you coming undone all because of her touch.

“Fuck,” you breathed, closing your eyes and dropping your head onto the couch arm.

Humming, she sat back on her heels as her fingers pulled out of you, only to stroke your slit slowly. “You looked like you had fun.”

Opening your eyes, watching her kneel between your thighs as she continued to stoke your flames and desire… you snapped.

Sitting up, you pushed her against the back of the couch and quickly straddled her thigh before snaking your hand between her thighs. She bit her still grinning lip as you ran the tips of your fingers along her slit.

“I can tease, too,” you warned.

“You can try.”

Raising an eyebrow at her, you grazed her clit, barely touching her. As expected, her lips parted on a needy gasp as her legs clenched around your thigh.

“That’s what I thought.” Leaning in, you caught her lips in a soft kiss.

She moaned against you as you pressed your fingers into her warmth, seeking out her g-spot. Once you found it, you began to grind against her thigh in time with your strokes, dragging your own pleasure out as you built hers up.

Fisting your free hand into her hair, you tugged her head back as you picked up the pace. She gasped against your lips, allowing you to slide your tongue in to lick at hers. Moaning against each other, thrusting against each other, you rode through the waves as you both reached your peaks and fell over the edge.

Clutching at your hips, encouraging you to keep moving, Dani groaned into your mouth as she came on your fingers, walls clenching and twitching around you. Feeling her come undone, still grinding against her thigh, you were pushed over into an orgasm of your own that left you feeling dizzy and satiated.

Dani looked up at you with swollen lips and shimmering eyes. “Bed?”

“Yes. Please.” You nodded.

Guiding you back carefully, she set you on the couch before getting to her feet. Taking your hand, she reached down to grab her shirt as you rose from the couch. Once standing in front of her, she helped you put the shirt on and then took your hand once more. Reaching up, she caressed your cheek and leaned in for another kiss.

Hand in hand, both of you half naked and a little clumsy as tingles of pleasure pulsed through your limbs, you headed off to bed. Neither of you had to say a word, knowing you’d be sleeping together that night.

Bamby

#danneel ackles fanfiction #danneel ackles x reader #danneel ackles x you #danneel ackles x y/n #the spice of life

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seekingluckynumberseven · 4 years

Text

Day 6: Welcome to My Life

Blech. Over-steeped tea was the absolute worst. Years of listening to Thunderpants lecture about the proper way to brew a cup couldn’t compete with the mystery in front of her. She wrinkled her nose and shoved the offending cup aside to stare at the email posted in the chat. The black headphones pumped out music, drowning out the random thoughts of a certain red head so she could focus on the puzzle. If she danced a bit to the beat, at least no one was here to see… or yell. The movement in the notes and her body always helped with the nervous energy that came along with investigations. Decisions formed from her analysis became ones of life or death in too many situations.

Mint Eye. Well, they at least stuck to a theme. The colors… the gradient flower background; she snorted. Someone in their marketing department needed to go back to school in this decade. Her playlist may have a lot of 80s and 90s music in it, but the rest of those years could stay right in the past. Especially the colors.

The words screamed “come to my crazy cult party; Kool-Aid for all!”. The ironic choice of the word magenta made her want to dismiss it as spam. A place where everyone is happy, of hopes and dreams, almost as real as the color that didn’t exist. Only manufactured by humans’ brains to make sense of a world gone mad. But over and over history showed how people cling to those contrived ideals and how far they’d go to make them a reality. That was part of the reason her shadow world even existed.

What really made her pause from out and out dismissing it staring back from the small screen. A quick flip of her wrist revealed an eerily similar designed etched into pale flesh. Seven had figured out this was tied to the mysterious hacker. Was it a coincidence that the Seeker’s Eye in the center of the sword was a simpler version of the stylized green and black eye of this Mint Eye? That this “Unknown” had lured a Seeker to this apartment out of all of the targets walking on the street. Coincidences just didn’t happen in their line of work.

There was a small chance that whoever had created the design had been exposed to a fictionalized version of their organization. The tattoo that adorned her arm was very different from the rest of the Swords. In a way it was a prototype, it’s artist a designer on a very popular video game franchise. He had “borrowed” and modified the idea of their organization to fit the game world. To say that Juno had been unhappy was an understatement. Even more so when Kali had asked him to design a new “sword” to fit her. But the artwork could hide in plain sight because of the game. The old guard truly didn’t understand the need in a world where secrecy was becoming rare. Where unknown hackers could breach the defenses of an organization like theirs without breaking a sweat.

It was a bit rude that they hadn’t invited her or Seven to drink their Kool-Aid. Happiness was in short supply in the secret agent biz. If anyone deserved a few hopes and dreams, it was the red headed hacker. Her imagination was very good at creating dreams that involved him. No cult help needed there. Too bad there truly wasn’t a paradise that could make them into reality. The smirk on her face was wiped off at the now cold, bitter taste of the tea. Ugh… she’d forgotten in her daydreaming. A message popped up in the chatroom before she could empty dump offending brown water.

707: Kali…

707: It’s late. You’re still up?

Kali: Yeah. Don’t sleep much.

Kali: Anyway, I was thinking about you.

707: Me?

707: Oh… Were you thinking about me because you’re nervous?

707: I’m sorry I can’t do anything more for your safety.

Kali: No sorries. Not that at all.

Kali: That wasn’t at all what I was thinking about tbh.

Kali: Really, I can take care of myself. Any word from V?

707: I tried…

707: But it seems V doesn’t have any service right now.

707: But I left a voice message, so he’ll call me as soon as he hears it.

707: All the RFA members, including you…

707: must be careful for the time being…

707: Please… I hope no one gets hurt because I wasn’t good enough…

Kali: Hey. It isn’t your sole duty to keep everyone safe. We have some responsibility too.

Kali: Plus you’re trying really hard. I’m sure we’ll be fine.

707: That’s… that’s not always the case….

707: You can say that because you don’t know much about me.

707: Kali….

707: I don’t think I’ve told you much about myself.

707: what kind of work I do for the agency…

707: And dark things like that.

707: To be honest…

707: I wanted to show people in the RFA

707: only my bright and fun side.

707: Because the work I do is nothing but dark and filthy.

707: I didn’t want to tell anyone about that.

707: But…

707: now that this is happening… I feel like I should talk about it a little.

707: Because if anything happens…

707: if anything bad happens because of me…

707: you… and all the other members

707: will be in so much shock…

Kali: Nothing bad will happen because of you.

Kali: I’d like to know about your workplace tho

707: To be honest, the place I work for

707: is a complete shithole

707: where even a mindless joke can get you killed

707: So it’s actually weird

707: for me to say that nothing bad will happen.

707: It’s the only path I could choose, so I don’t want to whine about it.

707: But… I want you to know this.

707: Nothing good will come out of you knowing,

707: but I’m not a clean and bright person…

707: And

707: since you can be put in danger because of me,

707: we need to keep our distance…

707: If we’re like how we are now, where we can’t meet

707: and you’re neither friend nor family, you’ll be safe.

Kali: Not even friends? That’s really sad.

707: I don’t know.

707: you and me…

707: did we ever have any kind of relationship?

707: We just talked a bit

707: here in this chatroom…

707: And of course, I enjoyed all those conversations… but even those are pointless for me.

707: You know…

707: I only tried to laugh as much as I can in this chatroom,

707: because of the dark place I’m really in.

707: This shithole… is probably the place that suits me best.

707: I hope the members,

707: and especially you, aren’t harmed because of me…

707: but I don’t know.

707: I’ll be more careful from now on.

Kali: Seven, you need to think about yourself too.

Kali: I’m always here to listen and I’ll do whatever I can to help you.

707: You are always so kind.

707: I wasn’t wrong.

707: You are an angel.

707: You are so kind to everyone,

707: and even though you just found out about the RFA,

707: you fell for my ridiculous threat,

707: and told us you’d help.

707: If I had just let you go then…

707: told V that this isn’t right,

707: convinced him to send you away…

707: you could have just deleted this app

707: and be free…

707: But it’s already happened now

707: so all I can do is be more careful…

Kali: I don’t regret this Seven. Especially getting to know you.

707: Kali…

707: Thank you,

707: but those words will have heavy consequences,

707: so please be careful of what you say.

707: Please don’t think I’m such a good person.

707: Of course,

707: I’ll take care of everything that’s already happened.

707: I’ll try harder for you because I involved you in all this.

707: Whatever happens,

707: I’ll make sure you’re never in danger.

707: but…

707: once this hacker deal is taken care of,

707: there’s something I have to do first…

707: so things might go a bit slow.

Kali: Seven… the agency, are you in danger working for them? Are they threatening you?

707: Don’t worry about it, Kali ^^

707: I’ll just go back to the Seven I always was, and come back after everything’s finished.

707: I’m sorry for being slow.

707: Please tell me

707: if anything strange happens

707: while I finish up my agency work.

707: Alright, Kali?

Kali: I’ll be fine. Just focus on yourself ok?

707: I really hope so…

707: ^^

707: I have to go now.

707: I plan to finish the agency work in a blink of an eye.

Kali: Seven, be careful. And thank you for protecting me.

707: I don’t deserve to be thanked.

707: I’ll come back soon. Take care of yourself.

707: Then… Good bye.

<707 has left the chatroom.>

Tears hadn't fallen when the bullet pierced her thigh, nor all the times when Juno would beat her within an inch of death as a “test” of control. But they fell for him, hot wet trails down her checks. Sadness and anger warred to take dominance. Anger won. The phone hit the wall with a solid thunk, a dent left behind in the white drywall. This… this was what their whole organization was formed to monitor and clean up. The Seekers weren’t fulfilling the duty her grandparents had lived and died for.

What could she even say to alleviate any of the burden on his shoulders? “Don’t worry about me, Seven. I’m the dangerous one, not you. My bad, the people who own my soul aren’t doing their job. Sorry.” He wouldn’t believe her. No one ever would. And that made her one of the Seeker’s most effective tools, a weapon hiding in the body of a young blonde woman with a sad smile and the eyes of a demon.

#msyme fanfic #mysme oc #day six

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pkmnsdarkqueen · 4 years

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Drabble-So calls my heart to bad decisions. (Hoenn)

Based on this , cause I can’t get it out of my head and I think it’d be funny to give mini versions of the crack ideas I said. The keep reading thing is broken so I’mma have to keep it long sorry.

Hoenn: (using some interactions with @cleverest-admin and @psychic-master-will for this.)

“It still hurts.” “Really I wonder why that might be. It’s not like you just decided to put your hand on a glass tube filled with lava or anything.” “Shut up it’s not my fault I want to touch glowing things that look like the most incredible lava lamps I’ve ever seen!” “No of course it’s not! It’s called genetics, and you getting the stupid gene.”

Karen snapped tilting her head back slightly as she made her jab. Catching the glare from Will she smirked returning to messing with the wires. They had run around the Magma base for awhile now having their fun dropping paper on the lava tubes to see how long it’d take them to catch on fire, snooping through drawers, and at one point finding some old uniforms and trying them on. Karen still had on the hoodie for the girl’s uniform. What? It was a comfy hoodie.

“Oh my genetics are bad miss ‘I learned how to square dance cause I enjoy country music so much, and you also confused the wires again. You sure you aren’t colorblind?”

Will snot right back at her. Karen felt the wires in either of her hands start to be tugged away by an invisible force, and knew exactly who was causing that. Giving him a dramatic sigh she stood up arms crossed to let him finish what she started. In all honesty she was thankful for the help, but the tone of mushy emotions were to be left out of these adventures.

“Alright now you’re done showing off let’s check out where this one goes. We have yet to get to Maxie’s room, or any admin, and the offices are always the most fun.”

She chimed refitting the cover on the teleportation pad. A part of her really did hope it was an office of some kind. These were usually where secrets could be found, and where they would spend the most time cracking jokes about the place. Sure it might be a bit mean spirited, but they ripped into their own actions as well. It kept things fun.

“Ladies first as they say.” “What? Afraid you got the wires wrong and are going to end up a mangled mesh of person on the other end?” “First of all, that is gross. Secondly, I never doubt myself-” “Yes you never doubt yourself when it involves something stupid.” “You are just as guilty of that hypocrite, but fine I’ll go first if you’re so scared.” “Real original!”

Karen had to yell the last line since he was already stepping on the pad and off to who knows where. As per with the other pads the person to go first would tell the other the coast was clear, so she waited. Then waited a bit more. Ok so far they had heard from the other within a few seconds of zipping off. Why was this taking longer?

‘Will, hey whatcha seeing over there?’

The woman thought to herself hoping he was tuned into her head. I mean he ought to be if he was going through. Silence. Ok this was getting concerning. Without a second thought Karen stepped on the pad herself feeling her feet quickly lift, and then land again now in a completely different room. Except it wasn’t a smooth entrance seeing as how Will hadn’t fully cleared the next platform and she crashed into him the two having to catch each other.

“Will! The hell?! You went radio silent you know this isn’t the place to-”

In the middle of her lecture she let her eyes look over the room seeing nothing of note. More red walls, a desk, Tabitha, a bed, wait Tabitha. Her head went from scanning the room to looking at the admin who was currently also staring at them mid way between wrapping a mug in some bubble wrap. Ok she was caught up now.

“So Karen this is Tabitha, nice fellow, we’ve chatted a few times actually before I found out he was with team Magma, but we’re still friendly with each other right?” “Uh....sure, I would like to know what you guys are doing here though. Hi again Will, Karen.”

Tabitha answered starting to break his frozen state and set the half wrapped mug down. He was clearly confused honestly having every right to be. I mean they were trespassing. Sure the place was in the process of being abandoned but still it was weird to see two elites from a different region just stomping around, one wearing a magma hoodie?

“Wait before we answer that I just want to ask why you said ‘again’, to us both. You two have also met before?”

Will addressed pointing between Karen and Tabitha.

“I mean yeah, a bit. Just casual stuff sorta.” “We went on a blind date with each other like a year ago. A good time, uh didn’t work out though.”

Tabitha answered filling in the gaps Karen wasn’t filling out. Behind the mask eyes went wide as the dark type user’s went down. Oh here we go.

“Wait a blind date!? I have been trying to get you to go on one for ages and you never will do them! Also a year ago! I knew you were sad about getting rejected by that other guy, don’t tell me that’s what drove you to finally go on a blind date!? Karen when things like this happed you gotta tell me so we can go get ice cream and rant about how awful boys are. I can’t believe this betrayal. My own best friend, a lying hoe.”

The psychic ranted crossing his arms in a huff as he glared at her. He wasn’t really as hurt by this as he was making it sound which is why Karen rolled her eyes to it. Tabitha though had no idea what was happening and just kept shifting his gaze between the two feeling rather out of place. In his own home too!

“Ugh, we’ll talk about this later. Sorry for bothering you Tabitha, we’re just...like....huh there isn’t a good way to put this. We’re trespassing for fun cause it’s a bad tradition we’ve developed, but if you want maybe we can help you pack up?”

Karen offered awkwardly not knowing what to do with her hands and giving him a double thumbs up of all things combed with a guilt filled smile. The pause wasn’t long, but the atmosphere had a way of making it feel so much longer. Tabitha sort of just shook his head and sighed.

“I’m good. I’ll be done in another hour or two I guess come back then to have you’re run of the place just promise me the most you’ll take is two partial uniforms. I’m not the only one who needs to come back and get stuff.” “Actually we’ll just only take the one I’m more team aq-oof! Magma, but I know better than to steal things.”

He answered cut off before he could finish his original statement by a jab in the side by Karen’s elbow.

“As he said we hear you loud and clear, bye Tabs!”

She called pulling her partner in crime back on the teleport pad leaving the baffled admin behind.

#drabble #for fun #cleverest-admin #(i'm thinking about doing all of them but we'll see)

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wistfulcynic · 6 years

Text

CSJJ Day 8: The Key

Summary: They are strangers with benefits. Lovers who don’t know each other’s names. And then they meet.

Rating: M (a hard M)

a/n: An angsty, smutty little story, perhaps not entirely in keeping with the ‘joy’ part of @csjanuaryjoy, but what can you do? I set out to write a light and frothy secret-relationships fic, but, well... I think I used up all my fluff on the Secret Santa. Not even sorry.

Read it on AO3

Tagging @resident-of-storybrooke, @teamhook, @jennjenn615, @deathbycaptainswan, @tiganasummertree, @kmomof4 and wish I could group-tag the whole of the CSJJ Discord, because having random crazy conversations with you lot has been the best part of 2019 thus far.

The Key

He let himself in. With his key.

Because she, Emma Swan, the guarded, the cautious, the woman with walls around her heart so formidable that Fort Knox could benefit from her trade secrets, had given a key to her apartment to a man whose name she didn’t even know.

She told herself it was for the sake of convenience. It allowed her to await him in the bedroom clad in lacy lingerie, tiny scraps of fabric that wouldn’t be able to hold her in if she tried to move in them, scraps designed for no purpose other than to adorn her slender form before being torn from it by desperate fingers. Lingerie such as she was wearing now, reclined on her bed, waiting.

It allowed her to enjoy the look in his eyes when he appeared in the doorway, already unbuttoning his shirt, the hot, hungry look that still sent shivers skittering across her skin even though they had been fucking regularly for more than a year.

It allowed her to watch as he slowly undressed, his eyes fixed on her face while hers roamed his form, holding her breath as the smooth skin liberally adorned with dark hair was revealed, inch by torturous inch until finally his cock sprang forth, already hard and ready for her hands and her mouth and her cunt.

It allowed her to fist her hands into her sheets in anticipation, panting now as he crawled onto the bed, his blue eyes almost black and his breathing as ragged as her own, stroking his fingertips up the inside of her thigh and teasing the edge of the lace between her legs as his mouth trailed kisses up her neck.

This was what she told herself, and what she told him. What she wanted them both to believe.

The truth was that she had given him the key because she trusted him, this man she had picked up in a bar. She didn’t know his name or his job or his favourite colour, but she knew the way he touched her, reverently, as though she were something worth treasuring. She knew the earnest way he focused on her pleasure before taking his own, the way he listened to her sighs and remembered each moan, making every encounter better than the last. He didn’t know her name, but he knew every inch of her body. He knew precisely where and how to touch her to make her writhe and moan and scream, and she knew the same about him.

She knew that he would leave as soon as she asked, without protest, never pushing or trying to coax from her anything more than she was comfortable giving.

She knew also that he would stay, his eyes warm and his smile brightening the darkened bedroom when she twined her legs around his and buried her face in his neck, that he would hold her close and safe in his arms and whisper “Sleep, darling,” in her ear. She knew that the next morning he would ask her no questions but would make coffee while she made pancakes, that they would talk freely together about movies and music and books and travel and their theories on the meaning of life with not a word spoken about themselves, their work, their families, their names.

She knew that she knew him, the essence of him, his body and mind and soul, even without the details of his life. She knew that she loved him. And she knew, from the joy that he took in giving her pleasure, from the look in his eyes when he came deep inside her, from the light in his smile when he woke up in her arms, that he would never leave her. That he would keep coming back, keep treasuring her, holding her close, whispering endearments into her hair when he thought she was asleep.

As long as he never found out about her, about what a mess she was and how hopelessly broken life had left her, then she could keep him forever.

As long as he never learned her name.

❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️

He was moving inside her, his lips on her neck, his cock stroking her deep, again and again over just that spot, the one he could always find. She was moving with him, thighs squeezing him tightly, denting the curve of his ass with her heels, their fingers intertwined above her head. She was moaning in his ear, disjointed syllables and broken words of encouragement as he panted curses into the curve of her shoulder. She felt tingling in the tips of her toes and the base of her spine, the pleasure sizzling across her skin so intense that the buzzing of her phone on the nightstand was barely an echo of it, drowned by the explosion of sensation that burst within her as she came, clenching around his cock and dragging him along with her into ecstasy, his groan of pleasure reverberating through her and intensifying hers.

They lay together, still gasping and entwined, as the sweat dried from their skin and they slowly became conscious of the buzzing phone, and of the fact that it had been buzzing for a solid five minutes.

“Are you going to get that?” he murmured against her collarbone.

“Mmmmm,” she said, and he chuckled, his warm breath ruffling the damp blonde wisps at her nape.

“You’ll have to let go of my hand,” she said.

“Apologies, love.” He released her hands and rolled off her, looping his arm around her waist and pulling her close against his chest as she put the phone to her ear and he fell into a doze.

“‘lo?” she yawned into the phone.

“Emma? Is it too early, hon? You sound sleepy.”

“No, ’s fine.” Emma blinked, trying to focus, trying not to melt into the warm body behind her. “What’s up, Mary Margaret?”

“I’m just calling to remind you that you’re having dinner with us tonight.”

“I haven’t forgotten.”

“Just to warn you, there’s a friend of David’s coming too.”

“Mary Margaret—”

“Now I know you hate setups, Emma, and I promise this isn’t one. Killian’s not really your type, and David actually thinks he might be seeing someone, just maybe not officially. 'On the down low', as the kids in my class say. I just wanted to ask you to please be nice. It wouldn’t hurt you to make a friend, and honestly Killian could use one too. He’s had a bit of a hard time recently. Just promise me you won’t freeze him out, or, you know, punch him if he smiles at you.”

“Now you’re exaggerating.”

“Only slightly. Remember Walsh.”

Emma sighed. “All right, all right, I’ll be nice. Can I go back to sleep now?”

“Aaah, I knew it was too early for you! I’m sorry. Go back to sleep, sweetie, I’ll see you tonight!”

“‘Bye, Mary Margaret.”

She put the phone down on the nightstand and snuggled deeper into the man at her back, jostling him awake. He hummed, his arms tightening around her as he nuzzled her cheek. “Sleep, beautiful,” he murmured, the words slightly slurred.

“Sleep,” she agreed, and they drifted off together.

❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️

Emma arrived at Mary Margaret and David’s bearing a bottle of wine and a sense of resigned determination. Be nice, be nice, be nice, she reminded herself. Even if this was a setup —and she didn’t trust Mary Margaret not to lie to her about it being one— she needed to be nice. Needed not to let herself overreact to simple civility. Needed to remember that not every man in the world was out to use her. Sure, every one she’d ever dated had been, but still they couldn’t all be.

He wasn’t, her nameless lover. She felt a thrill at the thought of him, the memory of his hands on her skin just hours before. He would never hurt her. As long as she never let him know too much of her, he’d never have cause to leave.

Mary Margaret led her into the living room where David was chatting with a man. A tallish one, with dark hair who was standing in a very… familiar… loose-jointed way, one she’d only seen once before, and—

“No,” she gasped, and he turned, the blue eyes she’d last seen twinkling at her as she kissed him goodbye lighting up when he saw her, then as he registered the look on her face they clouded with fear.

“Emma, this is—”

“No!” she cried, interrupting Mary Margaret. “No, don’t tell him— no, no, no.”

Mary Margaret and David were staring at her in astonishment, Killian —because she now knew his name was Killian— in alarm. He held out his hand to her. “Love—” he began, and she stumbled backwards, shaking her head, trying to deny the awful truth of the situation, of the only good thing in her life being ripped away, just like everything else.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, fighting back tears. “I can’t. I’m so sorry.” She turned and ran for the door, ignoring the voices calling after her.

She was almost away when she heard him, him alone, the frantic note in his beloved voice breaking her heart.

“Wait!” he cried “Wait!”

She hurried as best she could in her heels, but his long legs soon caught her up. He grabbed her arm, stopping her. She didn’t turn around.

“Won’t you even look at me?”

She did, and nearly broke at the brittle mix of hope and fear that she saw in his precious eyes.

“I—” he began, then stopped on a strained half-laugh. “I don’t know what to call you.”

“My name is Emma.”

“Emma.” Her name in his voice clawed at her heart and she wanted to scream and rage, wanted to fall into his arms and have him hold her close just once more. “I’m Killian.”

She nodded. “I know.”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking anxious. “Look, I know that this has sort of blown up all of our boundaries, but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. It— could even be a good one.”

“It’s the worst possible thing!”

“Why?”

She groped for the words to make him understand. “I can’t— I can’t be in a relationship. I’m too— people don’t—” She paused, taking a deep breath. “I can do sex,” she said. “But I don’t know how to be a girlfriend. I don’t know how to be that close to someone, how to let someone in. I’ll— I’ll just disappoint you, mess things up like I always do, and then you’ll leave.”

“I wouldn’t—”

“You would. They all do, once they get to know me. It’s best if we just—” she broke off as her throat closed up, refusing to let her speak the awful words. She swallowed, and forced them out. “It’s best if we just end it now.”

She risked a glance at him, and wished she hadn’t. His face was dead white, his eyes wide and desperate.

“Emma, I’ve known from the beginning that you have… reservations about intimacy. But darling, if you really think you can’t have a relationship, you’re very much mistaken. We have one, right now, you and I, one that is very, very important to me. You know me better than anyone ever has, even without knowing my name. And I know you, everything that I need to know to be sure that I want you in my life, in whatever capacity that you wish. We understand each other, love, we always have. Do you know how rare it is, this connection between us?”

“That makes it worse,” she whispered. “Things with you have always been so perfect, I can’t bear to ruin it.”

“You won’t, you couldn’t—”

“I can’t take that chance. I’m sorry.”

He gripped her arms tightly. “Please,” he begged, his voice cracking on the word. “Please don’t do this, don’t end us. I love you.”

“No.” She shook her head, denying it, though she knew he spoke the truth. “No, you can’t.”

“And yet, I do. What’s more, you love me too.”

“I— I don’t,” she lied, convincing no one.

“Then why did you give me a key to your apartment?”

“That was just for convenience—”

“It was because you trust me with your heart.” Anger edged his voice now. “Don’t lie to me Emma, and don’t lie to yourself.”

“I’m not—”

"You are! Would you really throw away our chance at happiness, throw away the happiness we already have, because things might not always be perfect?"

"You only think we're happy because you don't know me. If you did, you wouldn't want me anymore."

"I do know you. And there are no conceivable circumstances in which I wouldn't want you. Wanting you has all but consumed me from the moment we met. Look at me, darling." He put his hand under her chin, tilting her face up until their eyes met. “I love you. I want you. We can be together, we can be happy, you just have to trust me with your head the way you already do with your heart. Tell me you don’t want that. If you can look me in the eye and tell me you don't love me, I'll never trouble you again.”

“I— I—” She looked into his gorgeous eyes, seeing everything he felt for her within them. She did want those feelings, wanted him. So much. Too much to take them, too much to risk destroying them. “I can’t.” She tore her eyes away. “I can’t do this. It’s over. Don’t come back.” She wrenched herself from his grasp and fled.

❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️

The envelope arrived through her mail slot two days later. It was brown, sturdy, with a small, heavy object within. She tore it open and upended it over her kitchen counter. A key fell out, bouncing on the counter with a clang that carried an ominous finality, far too loud for its small size.

Her apartment key.

She stared at it, shattering inside. With trembling fingers she reached out to touch it, astonished to find her hand and arm still whole and not crumbling into dust under the weight of her agony.

He’d returned her key.

Of course he had. When had he ever not done as she wished? She had told him not to come back. What use would he have for the key?

Slowly she picked it up, closing her fist around it, so tightly that the sharp edges broke her skin. She squeezed until she felt blood welling up from her palm and then she broke, the walls around her heart swept away by wave after wave of emotions, feelings she had repressed for years but never vanquished. Sobs wracked her body as she sank to the floor, scraping her throat as raw as her soul. She cried for the baby she’d been, abandoned and unloved, for the child shunted from house to house but never to a home, for the heartbroken teen who’d had her baby in jail and then given him up, hating herself for abandoning him as she’d been abandoned but knowing she couldn’t be a mother. She wept for the woman, who would rather break the heart of the man she loved than risk being happy with him.

All her life people had left her. Then she’d pushed away the only one who wanted to stay. The only one who wanted her.

The only one who loved her.

❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️

Emma pounded on the bright red door of her friends’ house, brushing tears from her cheeks as she did. It swung open to reveal David, his face harder and angrier than she’d ever seen it. He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at her.

“David, hi, I’m— I’m looking for… can you tell me how to find Killian?”

“Why do you want to know?” he asked. “So you can break his heart again?”

She had no answer to that.

“Killian’s had a rough couple of years,” said David. “He lost his brother and his girlfriend and his job, one after the other. He came here to heal, and for a time he did. He was happy with you, Emma, happier than I’d ever seen him. And now he’s a fucking shell of himself, worse than before. Honestly, I think he’s better off without you.”

He made to shut the door but Emma was quicker, blocking it with her shoulder and foot. “No!” She cried. “David, please, I’m so sorry. I was wrong to do that to him, wrong to end things between us. I want to fix it. Please. Please, help me make it right.”

David watched her wring her hands, saw the tears that dripped unheeded down her blotchy cheeks, and felt torn. He was certainly not unsympathetic to Emma's distress or her difficulties. Mary Margaret had told him about her past, not everything but enough that he could understand what drove her, what made her so afraid to trust. However, he had his own friend’s well-being to consider, and Killian’s despair over the past few days had left David distraught and terrified that his friend might be driven to do something rash and unforgivable. Killian had never been particularly rational when he was deeply wounded. As far as David was concerned, Killian had been through enough and had enough still to work through without having to deal with Emma’s crap as well. There was a new assistant librarian at the university, a pretty, friendly woman called Belle who had hit it off with Killian immediately. He’d be far better off with someone like her. Someone bright and cheerful who shared his interests and could maybe make him smile again. Someone who might actually be able to give him her heart.

“I’m sorry, Emma, but I can’t let you hurt him any more,” David said, gently but firmly pushing her away from the door and shutting it with a click.

Emma leaned her forehead against the icy cold wood and sobbed. “But I love him,” she choked out, then nearly fell on her face when the door opened again.

“Do you mean that?” asked David sharply.

She looked up, and hope sparked in her chest at his expression. “Yes, I mean it!” she cried.

“You truly love him?”

She nodded, willing him to believe her. “So much. More than anything.”

“And are you prepared to have an actual relationship with him, one where you use each other’s names and do more together than just fuck?”

Emma winced, but she supposed she deserved that. “I’m ready to try,” she said honestly. “It scares me to death and I’ll probably fuck everything up, but I love him enough to try.”

David’s eyes softened with the kindness and understanding she was accustomed to seeing in them, and she let out the breath she’d been holding in a relieved whoosh.

“I don’t think you’ll fuck everything up,” he said. “One or two things, sure, but that’s inevitable in relationships. He’ll fuck some things up as well, but you’ll work through them together.” He stepped back, opening the door wide. “Come in and warm up a bit, and I’ll write down his address for you.”

❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️

Outside Killian’s office door Emma paused, breathing deeply and gathering her courage. This would have been difficult enough without her having to come to the damn university library to do it, but she didn’t want to leave things as they were any longer than necessary and David had said Killian would likely be working late.

(“He works at the university library?”

“Yep.” David smirked. “He’s the curator of the rare books department.”)

Emma was still struggling to process that the flirty, sexy, bone-meltingly gorgeous man who made the worst puns she’d ever heard and fucked her better than anyone else ever could was a librarian. Yet his name was on the door and the door was slightly ajar, enough for her to see him through the gap seated behind a large wooden desk. His hair was mussed, not in its habitually deliberate, sexy way, but in the manner of hair that had been gripped tightly in despairing fists and tossed for hours on a sleepless pillow. His eyes were shadowed, his face pale. He looked heartbroken.

He looked broken.

She pushed the door open and stepped inside. “Killian,” she croaked, her voice breaking along with him, along with her own heart.

He looked up, anger and despair and resentment and hope and love all written plainly on his face. “Emma,” he whispered.

She took another, tentative step forward. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You were right. About everything. I do love you, and I believe that you love me. But I— I’m not easy to love, Killian. I’m too jagged, too hard, and I push people away… I’ll hurt you…”

He surged to his feet and around his desk, wrapping her tightly in his familiar embrace, sighing into her hair. “I’ll risk it,” he said hoarsely. “I’d risk anything for you.”

She sobbed, clinging to him, and his own tears dampened her cheek. “I love you so much, Emma,” he breathed. “I almost told you a million times, but I knew you wouldn’t welcome it.”

“I knew it anyway,” she said, “though I never let myself really acknowledge it. It’s in everything you do, and say, and how you touch me.”

His smile glowed as bright as sunshine, warming her to the depths of her soul. “I knew if anyone could hear what I wasn’t saying it would be you,” he said. “No one understands me like you do.”

“And no one has ever known me like you do,” she admitted. “Even without knowing my name.”

He chuckled. “Do you want to hear something funny?”

“Sure.” Anything that would keep him smiling like that, she wanted to hear it.

“I always called you Swan in my head,” he said, and she laughed. “From that very first night when you said no names.”

“How on earth did you come up with that?”

“From your pendant, of course," he said, brushing his fingertips across it. "And it just seemed to suit you: graceful and elegant and strong. And with a very sharp beak.”

She laughed again. “I think that’s stretching the metaphor a bit, but okay.”

He brushed the hair back from her face, cupping her chin and stroking her cheek with his thumb. “My beautiful Swan,” he said, kissing her gently. “Love of my life.”

She sighed against his lips, leaning into him to deepen the kiss, feeling her whole body sing as he held her close.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you, Killian,” she whispered when they broke apart. “I’m sorry it took me so long to accept how I felt about you.”

“It doesn’t matter, darling,” he replied. “We’re together now, truly together, with no secrets and no barriers between us. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Me too,” she admitted, tears springing to her eyes again. “I just never thought I could have it.”

“It’s yours now, my love, along with anything else you want that is in my power to give you.”

She kissed him again, deep and hard, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close. He growled deep in his throat, her favourite sound, and gripped her hips tightly, pulling them into his. He was just sliding his hands under her shirt when she pulled back, panting.

“I almost forgot,” she said. “I have something to give you.”

“You do?” He looked surprised, and delighted.

“Yeah.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small metal object.

He raised an eyebrow. “The key to your heart?”

“You know perfectly well it’s my apartment key, Killian.”

“That’s what I said, love.”

❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️ ~ ❄️

#CSJJ #cs january joy #csjj 2019 #smut #angst #captain swan #cs ff au #profdanglaisstuff #the key

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