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honkytonk-hangman · 8 months

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Just Another Thing – [3]

WALT ‘FINN’ FINNEGAN X READER/OC

Summary: God help anyone who might’ve thought a nice, stable relationship might bring some kind of change to Walt Finnegan’s usual mischief and mild-hedonism. God especially help them if they also thought a girlfriend would provide any sort of calming influence over him.

She definitely influenced him, anyone could tell you that, unfortunately just never in any way that could even remotely be described as ‘calm’.

Warnings: cussing, flirting, illusions to sexxxxx. reader/OC is named Kimberly/Kimber, but it is still written in second person and her name shouldn’t come up very often.

“You know, I’m pretty sure this counts as cheating at our little game,” Finn says in a sing-song voice when he jogs up to the fencing around the baseball pitch between innings. It was a balmy Saturday afternoon and at some point between this inning and the last, you’d shown up at the front of the stands beside Beverly. You stand to meet him, and he whistles slowly upon seeing the baseball jersey you have tied into a cropped top. He figures it must be one of Beverly’s.

“How do you know this isn’t serendipity at work?” you ask back, leaning right up against the fencing. Finn lifts an eyebrow but smiles. “Besides, I knew where you’d be today, I’m free tonight. I wanted to see you again,” you state matter of factly, yet still somehow very sexily. Finn pulls off his cap and holds it over his chest.

“You’re making me blush!” He teases back, before nodding in the direction of where Beverly is standing talking to Jake, feeding him little slices of oranges she has in a cup through the fencing. “I hope Bevie hasn’t told you anything bad about me,” he says.

You glance over and scrunch your nose adorably at the sickenly sweet affection between your friend and her boyfriend.

“Not anything I didn’t already know, besides, it’d only be hypocrisy,” you reply with a small shrug. Finn replaces his hat and takes up a lean against the otherside of the fence.

“How so?” he asks with a smirk. You cock your head and match his grin with your own.

“She’s friends with me, isn’t she?”

Finn stays beaming at you, leaning in even closer so your faces are barely separated by the wire between you.

“We’re all going to the Sound Machine tonight,” he tells you, eyes flickering between your eyes and lips. Your face lights up, and he feels a sudden sense of pride that he’s caused it to do so.

“I’ll be there,” you say instantly, just as one of his teammates calls out to him, the next inning about to start. Finn glances back then turns to you once again as he pushes away from the fence.

“And one more thing honey,” he calls, walking backwards back to the dugout. “Let me know the next time you plan on coming and watching me, I’ll make sure you’ve got the right shirt on!” he grins widely, and points to the number on his back just as he turns.

You walk arm and arm with Beverly through the club’s front doors, greeting Harry the doorman as he waves you both through. By now you were well known to the staff at Sound Machine, you and Harry had even had a short fling once, so your cover and drinks were always free of charge. You don’t expect that to be an issue tonight though, not when you had already planned on meeting Finn here.

Beverly quickly leads you around the dance floor and to a set of tall tables already crowded with rowdy baseball players, and the two of you are immediately welcomed as you siddle up. You barely get a chance to untuck yourself from your friend and make your way around to where Finn is sat oogling you before someone else leans over into your space.

“Well, well, well Beverly, who is your friend here?” a man you recognise as the one who threw the baseball that hit you, Roper, says. He doesnt even look at Beverly when he speaks though, his gaze trained solely on you.

“Kimberley,” you introduce yourself, holding out your hand, only a little skeezed out when instead of shaking it, he lifts it to his lips and kisses it.

“Charmed,” he says, looking you deep in the eye. You glance in Finn’s direction to find him glaring at Roper, but before you can tell him to buzz off, another hand is struck out towards you.

“I’m Dale,” the new man says, pushing in to bump Roper aside, and for politeness sake, these were Finn’s friends afterall, you take his hand, relieved when he only shakes it.

“It’s so nice to meet you both,” you tell them, rolling your eyes a little when they both immediately begin flirting heavy-handedly, complimenting your outfit and your hair, and asking about what you do at school. Eyeing Finn again, you see him throwing mental daggers at both men, though you catch his attention when he seems to worriedly look back at you.

Throwing him a wink, you flick your hair and focus back on the two men trying their damndest to be the one to take you home. You lean on the table beside you and pop your hip out, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by either of them.

“How about this;” you begin, speaking loud enough for the rest of the group to hear. Looking over at Beverly, you spot a maniacal grin on her lips as she leans up to whisper something in Jake’s ear. “If you can guess my major, I’ll let you buy me a drink,” you propose, putting on a show and laughing girlishly when both men begin to call out what they think your major might be.

“Vetenarian!”

“What? No, look at her, she’s clearly a drama student, with Beverly!”

“Astronautical Engineering,” Finn announces loudly, causing both Roper and Dale to turn and look at him like he’s insane. Clapping your hands together, you grin widely at him.

“Got it in one!” you tell him, laughing again when you see the appalled expressions on his friend’s faces. Finn smiles back, clearly having picked up on the fact you had no intention of letting any of his friends flirt with you, and pushes out of his seat, holding a hand out.

“Then I guess I get to buy you a drink, that’s my prize, right?”

You meet him on the otherside of the table, and take his hand eagerly, quickly throwing another wink back at the disappointed guys now hassling each other over apparently ruining the other’s chances.

“Right!” you say when you look back at Finn, his smile never waning as he leads you toward the bar.

When you arrive, he holds the little swivel seat steady for you as you hop up, before he takes up a lean next to you at the bar, standing close so you can hear one another above the music.

“Christ am I glad you remembered,” you huff with another roll of your eyes, jerking your head in the direction of his friends. Finn laughs.

“So am I. You nearly had me going there, giggling and all that!” He says with a small shake of his head. You cock your head at him and place a hand on the arm he has resting against the bartop.

“I’m sorry,” you begin to apologise, but he covers your hand with his own and shakes his head once more.

“No, no, that,” he gestures back to the tables. “Was extremely entertaining to watch. Not to mention satisfying.” he grins at you boyishly, but straightens briefly when the bartender approaches, placing both your drinks orders quickly before turning his ful attention back to you.

“Do you like watching, Finn?” you tease, leaning closer toward him. Finn smirks, but considers for a moment, flicking his eyes up then back to you.

“Depends on what I’m watching,” he tells you after a moment, before raking his eyes up and down your figure showily. “I would watch you do anything,” he flirts back, making you laugh.

You don’t go back to your group. You flirt shamelessly until you finish three more drinks each, at which point you slip off the stool and take his hands.

“Dance with me!” you call out over the music, already pulling him toward the dancefloor where Earth, Wind & Fire has started playing.

You can’t help but laugh in surprise, not only at how great of a dancer Finn really is, but at the way he spins and twirls you around the other dancers, singing along until your bodies crash togther once again. You reach up to wrap your arms loosely around his shoulders and neck as his own take a place at your hips, and you hold absolutely nothing back as you roll and grind them against his own.

You’re a little tipsy now, which is perhaps why you pull him closer toward you so you can speak.

“Have you ever looked at the stars?” you ask, still dancing.

“Think I’m looking at one right now,” he says matter-of-factly, making you throw your head back laughing, but you quickly shake your head.

“No, I'm serious!” you shout over the music, “We should go stargazing! I want to show you!”

Which is exactly how you end up back at your team’s house, laying on the front lawn curled up in one another as you point out constellations to him. Just as you finish showing him the big and little dippers, you sit up partially, resting your head in your palm as you stare down at him.

“Next time I have a shift at the observatory, I’ll try and sneak you in, you can see them so much clearer there!” you gush. Finn grins up at you, and tucks an arm behidn his head.

“Already cheating and planning our next serendipitious meeting, huh?” he asks, making you slip down a little lower to hide your face partially behind his sleeve.

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay, I know that doesn’t sound very sexy,” you trail off, resting your chin on his arm.

Finn looks away from you and back to the stars, his face suddenly a mite more serious than it ever has been.

“I don’t usually do this sorta thing,” he starts, voice low. “You know, seeing girls again after the first time,” he looks back down at you then, where you nod in understanding.

“That’s okay, I don’t really either,” you admit.

“It’s different with you,” he quickly goes on, but stops himself. When he doesn’t continue after a moment's pause, you poke him.

“Why?”

Finn sucks in a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds as his eyes turn away from you once again, before he lets it out.

“I don’t know,” he says, sounding unsure, but he’s quickly rolling himself over and draping an arm around your middle, so you lay face to face, only a hair's breadth away. “Maybe because you saw through all my bullshit and wanted to sleep with me anyway?”

You can’t help but shrug, a small smile curling over your face.

“I’d already decided that when we first met, I wasn’t about to let those ruses get in the way,” you tell him.

Finn smiles back, in that way that you like, with his eyes crinkling in the corners as he softly pinches your side.

“Maybe it’s because of how assertive you are, you know exactly what you want,” he adds as you squeak and jerk a little closer at his teasing. Your faces are even closer now, your noses touching, and you can’t help but shrug again.

“A lot of guys don’t, but I don’t really see that as my problem.” you say confidently, speaking nothing but the truth. If a man didn’t want you, you didn’t want him, and that was that.

Finn groans and cuddles closer.

“See, even you saying that’s making me hard!” he faux complains. You can’t help but laugh, leaning even closer to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, moving back just as he tries to turn his head and capture your lips fully.

“Well, why don’t we go inside and take care of that?” you begin getting up, only stopped when Finn takes up your hand again and pulls you back. You let out a soft sound of surprise that is quickly muffled when he presses his lips to yours fully, hand moving to cup your cheek until you’re both giggling against each other. He finally pulls away and gazes at you cheekily.

“Only if you promise to sneak me into the observatory next time.”

Finn hums to himself as he flips another piece of french toast onto a plate, not even stopping when he hears someone else enter the kitchen. He glances back briefly and nods at Beverly who eyes him sardonically as she pulls on her second shoe and opens the fridge in search of juice.

“French toast?” Finn asks, gesturing with his spatula to the ingredients he’s got laid out. Beverly eyes the two plates of breakfast he’s already made, and takes a seat on the opposite counter.

“Sure,” she says, watching as Finn goes about preparing her food. “Kimberley stayed the night again?” she asks, receiving a little hum in reply.

“She sure did,” he informs her happily. Beverly snorts into her hand and sips from her glass of orange juice.

“What do the guys think about that?” she asks, recalling the shit Jake had gotten from his teammates at first when she herself had started hanging out at the house more.

Finn places her toast on to cook then turns around to lean on the counter top as he looks at her.

“I don’t really care what the guys have to say about it,” he starts, motioning upstairs with his spatula again. “Fact is, they’re out every night complaining about getting laid, I’m actually getting laid. If they don’t see that as winning, they’re bigger idiots than we already thought,” he tells her. Beverly laughs again as Finn turns back to the hob and flips her toast.

“Well, I never!” she says dramatically, hopping off the counter and making her way to his side. “You’re finally growing up!” she gushes, pinching his cheek until he swats her away with his utensil.

“Yeah, yeah,” he shoos her back slightly, before grabbing a napkin and placing her breakfast inside it, holding it out. “S’probably about time, anyway,” he admits somewhat quietly. Beverly only smiles at him, and accepts the food, ducking closer before he can realise to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Good for you,” she says, stepping away before she can be swatted at with the spatula again. “Thanks for the french toast!” she calls back as she scrambles from the kitchen. Finn rolls his eyes, turning the stove off and taking up both plates just as the front door opens then closes again.

Upon entering his room upstairs, which he now had to himself since the Willoughby incident, Finn quietly kicks the door shut behind him, before hurrying over to his bed, which he climbs onto carefully. All the movement wakes you some and you groggily lift your head from his pillow, eyeing him sleepily.

“Breakfast is up pretty lady,” he tells you, hovering one plate under your nose until you start to rise.

“You made me breakfast?” you ask softly as you go about sitting up. Finn situates himself cross legged in front of you, handing you a plate once you’re ready.

“Course! Big game day!” he says.

“That is so sexy,” you tell him, placing the plate aside on the mismatched bedside table he’d dragged in for you a few weeks ago, and lean forward to press a kiss to his lips, which turns into two kisses, which turns into you shuffling closer, almost into his lap. Finn pulls back though, and tuts at you.

“Uh, uh, uh sweetheart! Breakfast while it’s hot, and then sex!” he insists, chortling internally at himself. If he’d have heard himself a year ago, he wouldn’t believe it either.

Groaning, you flop back against the headboard, and roll your eyes, but your smile gives you away as you take your plate again, and begin on the first slice of french toast he’d prepared for you.

“Good girl,” Finn teases, earning another eyeroll.

You eat in comfortable quiet for a few minutes, and only when both plates are back on your bedside, and he’s finished having his second breakfast does Finn ask the question thats been bothering him for a while now.

“Why don’t you invite me to any of your games?” he asks quietly, playing with your hair as you cuddle up to his side. You’d need to get up and go soon to catch the bus that would take you and your team an hour and a half north to Baylor, who you were playing. He feels you pause and shift, looking down at you when you look up.

“Honestly, I didn’t think you’d be interested in coming…” you tell him guiltily. Finn scoffs.

“That’s ridiculous!”

You only shrug.

“None of the guys my teammates date ever want to come, and it's not like we’re used to having a huge audience anyway, being a women’s sport and all… most of the time the school doesn’t even take us seriously,” you admit. Finn shuffles to look at you properly.

“That’s stupid, I’d come to all your games, and not just to see you in your uniform!” he tells you assertively, before nestling his face closer to yours. “I’d even wear one of those tight little tops ya’ll wear.” he grins upon making you laugh, leaning down to kiss you.

After thoroughly making you late, you shower together and dress before he walks you to your car. Leaning in through the driver's side window, you kiss him again and ruffle his wet hair.

“The next time we play here, I’ll let you know,” you tell him as he pushes off and you begin backing out. Before you drive off, you lean out your window again and pull your sunglasses on. “And I expect to see you in one of those tight little volleyball shirts!”

When your co-captain calls you over during the mid-game break, you aren’t sure what you’re expecting her to say, but it certainly isn’t what she does.

“Hey, isn’t that your boyfriend in the stands? Why didn’t ya’ll drive up together?”

Faster than lightening you whip your head around, scanning the minimal crowd of mostly parents and friends until right there in the front you spot the green-eyed, blonde. Blinking in surprise, you don’t even respond to your friend before you’re taking off in a jog toward the bleachers.

Finn stands as you approach, placing down a book he’d been holding as you get nearer.

“What are you doin’ here!?” you ask laughing as he greets you with a short kiss. You stare up at him in amazement, still blinking rapidly like he may poof out of existence any moment. Finn waves his arms wide and shrugs.

“I told you, I’d be at all your games!” he tells you, before gesturing down at the shirt he’d worn, only for you to realise it has your college’s volleyball logo emblazoned on it in burnt orange. “Had to make a few pit stops first though, so I only caught half of the first quarter.”

“Where did you get this?” you ask, pinching the hem of his shirt and waving it slightly.

“Snuck into the volleyball courts, asked one of the staff for it,” he waves off this fact breezily and instead bends down to grab his book again.

“Now, listen, I’ve been reading up on the rules, and you guys are doing great, but I reckon if you were more aggressive, you’d easily be able to exploit the gaps in Baylor’s strategy–” He doesn’t get to finish because you pull him in for a much more heated kiss.

“I’m going to blow you so good later,” you tell him upon pulling back. Finn grins wide, looking rather proud of himself, and you kiss him again until someone from your team whistles loudly at you.

You turn back to them, finding your gaggle of teammates crowded together and watching you in various states of giggles and hushed whispering. You look back at Finn and grin.

“Later. Did you drive?” you ask, to which he pulls his keys from his pocket and waves them for you. You begin making your way back to your team, but point at him.

“Later!” you say again.

Upon reaching your girls again, you call for a huddle and gather up.

“Alright, here’s how it is, we need to be aggressive for these last two quarters, Baylor has some gaps, I know we’ve all seen them, so now we take advantage,” you inform them quickly, earning nods and murmurs of approval from the team.

“Is he reading the rule book?” Nancy asks instead of replying to your new strategy, and you look up at her.

“Yes,”

“And he’s got a team shirt on!” Barbra adds, causing the girls to giggle amongst themselves again. You grin.

“Yes, he does. And If i’m gonna get laid later, we gotta win this, alright? Ready? Go!”

#walt finnegan x reader #walt finn finnegan #finnegan x reader #finn x reader #glen powell fic #glen powell fanfiction

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flemingsgirl · 1 day

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Enough pt. 5

It was the quarter final. Against Germany. A tough battle for next round, after the obstacles the Canadian team suffered their spirit is lifted, eager to win and march through to the final, justifiable. The game is highly competitive, both teams give each other a run for their money. Duels, shots on target, sprints and shouting all fun for you to watch until it wasn’t.

You saw her go down and the scream she released makes your hair stand on end. Eyes wide as the scenery unrolls. Grabbing on to the seat your knuckles turn white as you observe how Jessie gets treated. The Canadian stumbles along towards the sideline and after another minute she’s back on the field. The ref whistles to the half time and the team escapes into the dugout. Your eyes linger on her figure as she examines the crowd for the familiar face. She forces a smile before a pout settles on her lips and her head hung low.

When Jessie didn’t exist the dugout with the team you knew what’s about to come. Janine Beckie takes her spot and Kadeisha Buchanan now has the armband. After the first minutes the woman trots out again, already changed.

The game was nerve wracking, but the Canadian captain radiates ease to her teammates. Overtime comes to an end and the penalty shoutout arrives. You couldn’t watch it, face buried in your hands. Roaring fills the air when the ball hits the net, or the hands of the goalkeeper.

A moment of silence falls on the stands you pull your hands away from your face. You catch a glimpse of the player on the field one the one side you make the German team out, celebrating, dancing. The Canadians slumped to the ground, hands hovering over their faces, some sharing hugs and other tears. Eyes scanning the figures until they stop on her. She kneels next to Janine her hand running up and down her body, on her other side Vannesa Gilles leans her head onto Jessie’s shoulder. The captain range from one player to another cheering them up, shaking hands with the Germans on her way. As you observe her you step down the stairs down to the railing, hands resting on the metal as you shuffle from one foot to the other. Tapping your fingers on it as you chew on your lower lip, eyes never leaving her body.

Jessie climbs over the bar. You could see a curtain of tears in her eyes and some streaks on her cheeks. She throws herself into you, face buried into the crook of your neck. You’re frozen at first. Staring afar arms tangling at your sides. Jessie trembles against your body, her shaky breaths filling your ears. When it hit you, your arms come around her figure as you pull her closer to you, if even possible. Your fingers trace over her back. You let Jessie cry, feel everything she needs, just be there for her. “It’s not your fault,” you whisper. Knowing she would feel guilty, substituted after the first half due to the clash with the German player.

“I’m so proud of you.” You kiss the top of her head. “Let it flow.” Some cries and sobs escape her lips. “I’ve got you.” You stay intertwined with her body for a few minutes until her sobs quiet down. Jessie takes deep breaths, yet her head stills in the nape of your neck. She shudders in your arms before she slightly detaches from you. Her red moist eyes avoid you the corners of the mouth are draw-down. You reach for a tissue from your bag and dry her tears.

“Thank you,” she mumbles.

“Not for this,” you cares her arm as you bring an arm around her shoulder, and she nuzzles up into your side. “Are you okay?”

Jessie sniffles and rubs her eyes. “I have to.”

You give her a sympatric smile, “you don’t need to. But I understand if you try to for your team.” You squeeze her shoulder. “I’ll see you later, okay?” the woman is fast to shake her head. “You don’t want to see me?” you place a hand over your head and chuckle lightly.

“No, no…” Jessie reaches for your hand and fumbles with the ring.

“I’ll wait for you.” Your hand grabs around hers. “Go to them.” she nods in agreement, and you let go of her hand, your lips turned up. “See you,” you whisper before she leaves.

You messaged Jessie to meet her back at the hotel as you bought some food for the two of you which she didn’t know. The Canadian arrives before you but waits at the entrance. When her eyes glimpse your silhouette, she runs over to you. “What you got there?” she points to the bag.

“Just a little something.” She grabs for the bag, but you move it behind your back. “I can’t believe you.” You laugh and walk into the building with Jessie close on your heals.

When you set the bag on the desk Jessie is fast to open it. “You brought pizza?” you nod. “We could’ve gone out.”

“No.”

“But Y/N.”

You places your hands on her shoulders and squeeze them. “Stop Jessie, it’s alright. I figured you don’t want to go out and have some down time.”

“This is… thank you,” her eyes meet yours, appreciation glistens in the brown orbs of hers, and she rests her arms around your torso. Her head is pressed against your chest as you place your arms around her shoulders.

“You must be starving. Which movie you wanna watch?”

“We don’t need to.”

“What about monster inc. or inside out? I’d prefer inside out, we watched monster inc. already like four times.” You casually point out while shuffling through the bag in search for the snacks you also brought. Jessie stands behind you, her eyes glued on your back as her heart flatters at your being, a smile plastered on her lips.

By the time the movie finishes Jessie lays in your arm while you cares her back, her head rests on your chest her hand drawing shapes on your shirt. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“That we’re not going out, having a fancy….”

“No, no stop. You know it’s alright. We all have days like this. I like going out with you or staying in cause I enjoy the time with you, you’re the reason for it.”

“But you deserve it.”

“Jessie. You’ve been through a lot these past days. I understand it. You need a break and I’m there for it. I’m with you. You’re important to me, you’re enough.” You underline your trembling with a kiss to her soft lips, smiling into it.

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danses-with-dogmeat · 1 year

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N is for -- Nick Valentine

Oh, Nicky... his classic Hollywood noir vibes never cease to captivate me ❤️ He was one I knew was going to win in the polls, almost with no competition 😅 but, I'm absolutely not complaining.

I hope you all enjoy!

And here is the 2k event masterlist, for your browsing pleasure!

Pair: Nick Valentine x Reader

Dialogue: "Is this okay?" -- "It's more than okay."

Word: Never

Rating: NSFW (but not explicit, just the subject matter)

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 1.3k

Nearly all of the wax from the nearby candle had run out, the weak flame shyly waving goodnight to the pair upon the mattress beside it, as they sat, concerned with nothing but the person in front of them. There was no way for you to notice something like that, the subtle way the light flickered over your closed eyelids, while you were so absorbed in the pure bliss of the moment.

Nick, the gentleman he was at heart, let his hands roam respectfully over the ruffles of your nice, dress clothing. The best you could find in Boston these days, with the wasteland all that it was. Still though, it truly felt like the world that preceded it tonight, what with the fancy dinner in a tucked away corner of the Dugout inn that Vadim had made especially for the pair of you. The moonlit walk on the docks by the water purification plant had helped as well, with the stars reflected above and below; and the soft, pink glow over Nick’s pale skin as you passed the glimmering sign to his detective practice, just as enticing now, as the first time you’d laid eyes upon it.

Then, as he kissed you in the threshold, holding the door for you to step inside your cozy, Diamond City home, his gleaming golden eyes tentatively asking you, with a drawn-up brow:

Would it be possible for me to come inside, doll?

He’d never have asked it aloud. He wasn’t that kind of man, and maybe… Maybe that’s why you did invite him in. Or perhaps it was the way he looked at you. Like your eyes held the world within them, like you danced on clouds and made the sun shine with your smile…

And now, the way he seemed to worship you… How he’d lit the candles when you’d stepped away only for a moment, how he’d dialed the radio up enough for you to sway to, but still low enough that he could whisper over the sweet din, tender words that made you blush and grin like a fool in love.

Because you were. For the first time, you could say it confidently.

I really am in love with him…

“Darling,” His voice, more breathless than you’d’ve thought possible, sounded close to your still-open lips as he pulled away slightly, “Is this okay?”

Okay?

You scoffed internally as you opened your eyes to the glow of his own.

“Is it… Nick, it’s more than okay.” Your hands found their way to his cheeks, minding the ragged, displaced pieces of metallic flesh thoughtfully, as he’d often remind you to do. “I want this, I want you.”

You kissed him again, this time more purposefully; fanning all of your affection, your attraction to him, your love into the flames of your fervor.

“Mm.” Nick mumbled against your kneading lips, and grudgingly, you pulled back, raising a brow in question as your hands fell despondently down to rest in your lap.

“Doll… you ah, you sayin’ what I think you are?”

If you hadn’t been blushing already, this certainly would’ve done the trick.

“I… I think so, so long as we’re saying the same thing.” You chuckled at your wording, all of it sounding more ridiculous out of your mouth than it had been in the safety of your own head.

“Mhmm, well, I just…” He cleared his throat, was that… nervously?

Why the hell is he nervous?

“Just, if we’re gonna go further, I want you to be prepared, is all. Probably not gonna look the same under the trench coat as any of your previous, ah, suitors.”

You couldn’t help it, a tense chuckle escaped you at that.

“I say something amusing?” You heard the edge in his voice, but there still was a humorous glint to his eyes.

“No, I just… previous suitors just…” Trailing off, you looked down into your lap at your fidgeting fingers, biting your lip as you broke eye contact with him.

A reassuring hand pressed to your face, his smooth, cool thumb brushing over the flush upon your cheek as he gently encouraged you to meet his eyes again.

“I guess I want you to be informed too…” You managed in a small voice.

“Sole…” He said your name so reverently, he might’ve been a priest and you, an angel. “There’s nothing you’ve got to worry about; of that, I’m certain.”

“And I could say the same to you, but here we are…” Your hand reached up to cover his, where it still caressed your cheek.

“I’ve just…” You carried on, too determined to turn back now, “I feel like you should know... I’ve never quite done anything like this before.”

Nick only blinked for a moment, trying not to look too shocked at your admission.

Not that it really worked.

“You never… And… you wanna start, w-with me?”

“Is that so surprising?” You asked so quickly, you nearly cut him off, “Nick... I’ve never felt– with anyone– even close to the way I feel about you, with you. There’s no one else I've ever wanted this with.”

The synth's brows rose high at that, and just for a breath, his mouth hung open as the words refused to leave him.

“That’s… well, ah, that’s awfully sweet of you, and... I can honestly say that I, uh… Well, let’s just say I know the feeling." He chuckled a bit, and you admired the way his eyes crinkled with his grin. "The old Nick, well, he had some flings, sure, but me? Yeah, not like folks around here are lining up to bed this rusty old detective.”

He rubbed his skeletal hand over the back of his neck, almost shyly as he looked down and away from you.

You could only shake your head at the thought of it.

I literally can't be the only one who's ever been taken by him from the start...

Could I?

You weren't quite sure what it was, if it was nerves or giddiness that made your belly flutter and your breath catch. Perhaps it was a mix of both.

“I’m not sure I believe that, Nick," The words left your lips without your express permission, "but I guess I’ll take your word for it.”

“What? I wouldn’t lie to you, sweetheart, c’mon…" He couldn't help himself, in that moment you were so precious to him, it was all Nick could do to keep from pulling you into his lap. He'd just have to settle for a sweet peck upon your lips, in the midst of this important conversation.

"All joking aside…" He continued as he pulled back, and you nearly followed him, "you’re sure, doll? Because, well, not quite sure how to put this gently, but… It’s not gonna be the same, with me. I’ve got ah, different... equipment than you’re maybe expecting, and the sensations are of a unique sort, a-and my hands, well, I’ll try to be gentle as I can, you know that, but I–”

“Nick, I know you." You interrupted gently, your fingers stroking over his shoulders as if that could smooth over the worrisome creases in his mind the way it did upon his button-up. "It’s okay, I’m nervous too, but… I’m glad it’s gonna be with you. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Hmm.” He hummed with a smile, pressing his cool forehead to rest against yours. “And I can say I feel just the same. I…”

He looked away again, but it was only for a fraction of a second before he took the chance and his eyes met yours once more. This time, with a confidence you hadn't noticed before.

“I love you, Sole.”

Your own grin couldn’t be contained, not in that glorious moment as he said the very same words that’d been flitting around your head all night long.

“Me too, Nick.” You breathed, and kissed him.

This time, he didn’t pull back, didn’t hesitate, and nearly, he didn’t behave respectfully.

No, but Nick moved slowly, sensually, as his hands worshiped you the same way his eyes did, praised you just like his soft voice, loved you, as much as you loved him in return.

#2k event #2k celebration #secret event #fallout #fallout companions #fallout npc #fallout 4 #fallout 4 companions #fo4 nick valentine #nick valentine #nick valentine x sole survivor #fallout nick valentine

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justsomekpopstuff · 8 months

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seventeen as a baseball team - part 2

A/N: I have had so many thoughts recently, I just had to share!

part 1 | current masterlist | fic recs

team colors are white and serenity blue, and every now and again they get ones with rose quartz accents (its my au i'll do what I want)

their team mascot is something whimsical that has a cloud and diamond theme along with it

the whole team goes absolutely nuts the first time that center fielder!Dino gets voted into the All-Star Game

When they find out, they throw an absolute rager of a party in the locker room complete with champagne showers. When the All-Star game actually happens, instead of taking vacations, the entire team shows up to the game. All of them are wearing Dino's jersey, have their faces painted, and come equipped with horns and signs all cheering for him. It is the worlds most perfect Embarrassing Dad Cheering Section™️. Dino is bright red for the entire game because he can hear them from all the way across the stadium every time he takes the field.

third baseman!Wonwoo, on the other hand, despite being incredibly good, BEGS the fans to not vote him into the All-Star Game and Home Run Derby

He just really enjoys his time off...but alas, one year the fans absolutely do not listen, and he gets voted in with flying colors. He is, unfortunately, forced to go by catcher!Seungcheol. Despite not wanting to be there at all and tired all the time, Wonwoo ends up completely blowing the competition out of the water. In his final interview after winning the All-Star Game and receiving the MVP award, he begs the fans to never do it again.

the whole team holds a fun exhibition game every year during spring training where they all scrimmage against each other

The whole game gives major Savannah Bananas vibes, as well as that one kickball episode of GoSe. They have ridiculous rules like when the other team scores a point, the team on the field has to endure a "punishment" chosen by the fans. Inflatable costumes ARE used. Synchronized rehearsed dances are a must-have and they put their whole CHESTS into it. The fans love it and look forward to it every season.

right fielder!Joshua can always be seen playing catch in the outfield with some of the younger kid fans in the stands during warm-ups

He is very sweet with all of the younger fans, and has a reputation for always taking time to sign autographs and take silly selfies. He is, also, a chaos creator. He has absolutely stolen Red Vines from a child after making a catch that almost went into the stands.

starting pitcher!Woozi will deny it until his dying day, but he absolutely did cry the first time he threw a no-hitter

The whole team went absolutely nuts for him and stormed the field. Hoshi 1000% took pictures of Woozi crying. Woozi found out and threatened to absolutely kick Hoshi's ass if he ever showed those photos to another living soul. Hoshi listened.

first baseman!Mingyu has tripped running around second base more than anyone on the team...probably more than anyone in the league

There are multiple compilations each season of him tripping over second. He swears its an accident every time and that he does not trip over the base intentionally. The team places bets at the start of the official season for how many times he does it during the regular season. Winner gets all the cash pool and first pick of dugout snacks next season.

closing pitcher!Jeonghan has always been secretive about the reason why he wanted to become a closing pitcher

He will always say he wanted to be a closing pitcher because he loves the idea of being able to hold down the lead for the team, or give them opportunities to win. Jeonghan will swear that he likes being relied on and is good under pressure (which, to his credit, is technically true). However, the actual real reason he wanted to be a closing pitcher is so he wouldn’t have to run as much.

despite being injured, catcher!Seungcheol still attends every home game

He is usually sitting in the same place in the dugout, close to where the manager usually stands. Seungcheol, despite not being the manager, is absolutely yelling directions from his crutches in the dugout. The team will often listen to him better than their actual manager. The whole team is taking bets on whether or not Seungcheol will become a coach when he retires.

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upontherisers · 4 months

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a/n: ik i'm behind on prompts but i'm in AU hell. in my brain, there lives a summer camp. chaos ensues. huge shout out to @shoshiwrites and @loveduringthewar for listening to my rambling for the past few days.

“Welcome back to a beautiful evening at PNC Park. It’s the bottom of the ninth, bases loaded, two strikes, one out, the Yankees lead the Pirates 8-4—scratch that—” It’s more exciting to pitch from behind. “Tie game. Egan winds up—”

“Stop talking to yourself,” Brady yells.

No one lets him have any fun around here. He waves his co-counselor off and winds up again, sending a two-seam into Connor’s catcher’s mitt with a satisfying thwack. Diego, the batter, sighs, takes his helmet off defeatedly, and shuffles back to the home dugout. The kid stood no chance, especially not this far back in the batting order.

“Sorry, bud,” Bucky calls. That’s a lie; he’s about to pitch his first no hitter of the summer and he’s carrying his cabin, which has put up an abysmal performance through these first seven innings. Serves them right for naming themselves The Brady Bunch instead of naming themselves after him.

“They named themselves after you last year.”

“You mean the Tampa Slay Buckyneers?”

They’re back-to-back camp champs; they better play like it. This the only pre-season game before the cabin tournament and Bucky needs to put up some serious numbers or he risks losing his stars being poached for the intramural tournament at the end of the summer. Nevaeh Hale in UC05 just started playing national travel ball and there’s no way in hell he’s letting an arm like that end up on Kidd’s team or even worse, with one of the new counselors. Official practices are strictly against camp rules but if The Brady Bunch’s nightly tribal council just happened to coincidentally be on the baseball diamond tonight, he wouldn't complain. He has the speech from Remember the Titans down pat and he’s not afraid to use it. We will be perfect in every aspect of the game. You drop a pass, you run a mile.

His co-counselor will put up a fight, but he doesn’t understand the game like Bucky does. Brady’s a swimmer and swimming isn’t a sport, it’s a survival skill.

Bucky kicks at the dirt and pops his gum as Connor throws the ball back. The kid’s playing well today. His request to play catcher instead of his usual center field had taken Bucky by surprise, but he’s holding his own. It’s not as big of a test as Bucky would like it to be and he’s not sold on it being a permanent change. They need Connor’s height—and more importantly, his speed—in the outfield, especially in their first game against Buck and Benny’s Boyz 2 Men 2 Fast 2 Furious.

“It’s a bad name.”

“It’s a great name.”

“You’re only saying that because it’s Buck’s team.”

B2M2F2F’s (say that five times fast) Chayse Merriweather had shot up three inches since last summer and his counselors are being tight-lipped about how his swing is looking, but Bucky has no doubt that he’s going to have to send his boys deep and have his pitchers prepped to walk him if push comes to shove. The more he thinks about it, the more he makes up his mind. Sorry to Connor, but Xander is a decent enough catcher and since counselors aren’t allowed to play in the actual tournament, Buck needs as much height as he can get in the outfield.

But, on the other hand, Jacob F. is pretty tall and he could—

The dinner bell sounds across camp and two benches of teenage boys jolt upright in sudden, rabid interest.

“Final at bat?” Cros calls from his dugout.

Bucky defers to Brady, who gives him a solemn nod, and he shrugs at the home side. “Sure.”

He scans the field behind him. The outfield’s getting bored: Maxwell and Aiden have been shouting song requests to Dellie and Ken in the booth and doing TikTok dances since the game started, Nolan’s pulled so close to Dominic that there’re practically two third basemen, and even if he started making subs, the dugout’s too busy doing bottle flips to know where they’re at in the game. He loaded the bases to give them some defensive practice, maybe field some ground balls while keeping an eye on their man, start getting into a passing rhythm for double plays, but apparently it’s much more interesting to do a bad line dance to Beyoncé.

He yells to his boys to get back to their spots and is immediately waved off. Nol and Dom don’t even acknowledge him, which hurts a little. The dinner bell broke the remaining shreds of their attempt at concentrating, and he wouldn’t regain control until after they ate.

Sometimes, he feels like he’s the only one around here who gives a shit about baseball.

The Riveters’ fastest runner, Jordan, is on second and wouldn’t steal with Davonte at shortstop. Bucky doesn’t have the rest of the batting order memorized yet, but based on their last few hitters, the other team’s scraping the bottom of the barrel. He’ll lay down a few heaters, make sure the kid doesn’t feel too bad about it (2-0’s an honorable loss), and make sure his boys don’t kill each other getting in the dinner line. He’s not going to save their season from the mound and besides, it’s taco night. He’d develop their roster over a plate of delicious, greasy ground beef and use Brady as an entirely unresponsive sounding board.

It takes awhile for a batter to step up to the plate and if they’re the ones who want one more swing, they shouldn’t waste his time. It’s getting chilly as the sun goes down and the mosquitos’ll be out soon, and he much rather deal with the 15-year-old boy’s tirade against bug spray in the privacy of his bunk. He gets some plate-to-mound reps in with Connor before standing up and setting his hands on his hips. “What’s taking so long?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Cros says, flipping through papers on a clipboard, “hitter change.” Are they fucking printing out their batting orders now? Since when? No offense to the other bunk, but they’re much more… feelings based than Bucky and Brady’s. Cros emphasizes enjoyment over wins, which is fine, he supposes, but there’s a reason they haven’t made the playoffs in the five years Bucky’s been at camp. And now they’re printing out their batting order, like that’s gonna help.

Maybe Jean took Harry to a game, opened his eyes to the joys of the spirit of competition, made him see that there’s as much confidence building in holding yourself to a standard as there is in “having fun.” Maybe this’ll be a year when more than two cabins are putting in effort.

After a few moments, someone finally steps out, bat in hand. It’s Rosie, much to Bucky’s surprise. He doesn’t know much about Cros’ new co-counselor, but he knows he’s full of surprises.

It had been a shock when Bubbles announced to the counselors’ group chat that he wouldn’t be returning this summer, passing up eight weeks in the mountains for a “once-in-a-lifetime” Master’s exchange program in Paris. Bucky didn’t understand; you have to pay to go to Paris, they pay you to be at camp.

And Cros put on a brave face during returning counselors’ orientation, pretending that he wasn’t shitting himself about doing his first summer ever without his partner in crime, nodding nervously at Chick’s assurances that they found him a good co-counselor. Everyone was surprised when Rosie showed up the next week. It’s not like they were expecting anything in particular, but they weren’t expecting someone so… so perfectly suited to the environment, frankly. A law student, the newest Head of Academics for the kids who take summer classes, and vouched for by Izzy in the front office.

Bucky held the man at arm’s length for a few days due to being unimpressed by his “I don’t really follow the Yankees” answer when Bucky tried to connect over Rosie being from Brooklyn.

“There’s more than one professional sports team in New York,” Gale says, taking his seat next to Bucky for a fire safety orientation they’ve seen too many times.

“Yeah? Name one.”

“Or,” says Mahalia as she leans forward and sticks her head between the boys’, “get this: some people don’t root for their hometown teams. Some people get so infatuated by a group of uniforms hundreds of miles away that they betray the land that raised them.”

“You know what?” Bucky snaps, turning around.

Chick clears his throat from the front of the room and gives a warning, arched brow. Bucky flips Mahalia off over his shoulder.

Even thinking about her partially ruins the respect he’s built for Rosie.

It took a week or so for him to realize that it’s not an act, that the new counselor is as genuine as he presents himself to be—patient, smart, gives good advice but isn’t parental about it. Instead of the usual mess of interbunk seating at dinner on the first night of camp, the majority of Rosie’s campers opt to sit with him at the cabin table rather than catching up with all their friends, full of questions and listening intently as he introduces himself. Their team name is in the intramural Google spreadsheet by Day 3. Rosie’s Riveters. It’s rare that a bunk names themselves after a counselor even once in the ten summers they’re together, let alone a new guy coming in seven years late.

He’s a good fit for UC16. Cros’ group has always been on the quieter side, tending to stick with each other and spend a quiet night playing board games in the bunk rather than trying to wreck as much shop as they can before curfew. A gentle but strong spirit who stays calm under pressure (look, Harry’s trying but he’s not there yet), a natural leader, and a complete lack of FOMO makes Rosie the perfect guy to keep his boys in a low pressure environment.

He’s the darling of the front office, the clear favorite of the kitchen staff, and one of the only counselors allowed within the sacred walls of the nurses’ cabin. Bucky’s never been on the nurses’ porch let alone inside the bunk, and he's known all of those girls for years.

“Maybe that’s why they don’t want you in their personal living quarters.”

Whatever, Mahalia. He’s grown up a lot since starting at Lake Harding, okay?

So it surprises him as Rosie walks to home plate with confidence, taking a couple of half-swings before digging a heel in the box and hiking the bat up. He looks ready.

Bucky’s impressed, but not deterred. “I don’t go easy on counselors,” he says.

“That’s fair,” Rosie shrugs with a gentle smile.

Alright, well. The Brady Bunch still wants to get to dinner and a few of them have homework to do before tribal council and lights out.

“Bottom of the ninth,” he whispers as he winds up, savoring the familiar drag of clay under his shoe, “bases loaded, two outs, Yankees lead 2-0.”

The ball slams into Connor’s glove, a high and tight four-seam, without so much as a twitch from the batter.

With no refs, Bucky has to call his own games. “Strike one.”

Rosie nods at the ground with a contemplative pout before preparing again. If it’s going to be this easy, Bucky might as well change things up a bit. The wind is blowing south east, toward home plate, and if he can sink his change up just right…

He winds up, aims, and fires, and the most beautiful noise he’s ever heard—the expressive, roaring, galant crack of ball meeting bat—thunders across the field. It takes him a second to track the ball against the darkening sky, and up it goes, higher and higher over the short chain link fence at the end of the outfield.

Rosie takes a few stumbling steps toward first with the practiced momentum of a man who’s gone yard many times in his life but just wants to be polite about when he starts running, and lets the bat fall to the dirt as he starts a light jog. It’s silent except for the evening birdsong when the ball finally disappears into the first few feet of forest, and then the home dugout erupts. The Riveters pour out onto the field like they just won the World Series, hats and mitts flying into the air, whooping and jumping on each other.

Bucky is dumbstruck. He’s never been grand slammed, not once in five years and a week of pitching, but as Rosie is rounding the bases, he finds Cros’ gloating, smug ass smile still in his dugout and furrows his brows. What the fuck, bro?

“Brooklyn College, Division II Men’s Baseball National Champs,” Cros shouts over the victory cries of his boys, “2020 through 2023.”

“Where the hell is Brooklyn College anyway?” Bucky asks later as he’s pulling his tray through the taco bar, replaying the sound of Rosie’s homer over in his head.

“Brooklyn,” Brady says with a laugh.

They take their seats at their table where Connor and Davonte, the traitors, are animatedly regaling two UC05 girls with the story of The Miracle on the Diamond.

“You think he’d coach?”

Brady drops his fork into his plate with a scowl. “I’m your assistant coach.”

“Well, you weren’t much help today.”

“How was I supposed to know the guy’s a national champi—”

“Heard you boys got your asses kicked by a lawyer,” Mahalia says, plopping down on Bucky’s left.

Brady returns to his dinner in silence and Bucky gathers up a taco in his hand. “People lose sometimes.”

“I don’t,” Mahalia says innocently, stabbing the greens in her neatly arranged taco salad. What the hell is wrong with her? “I stood on business today. Parenthesis-Withdrew-parenthesis in italics didn’t know what hit ‘em.”

Ah, yes, (Withdrew), Ev and Dougie’s latest scheme to trick opposing teams into not showing up to their matches, automatically forfeiting and giving them the win. The worst part is, Mahalia did stand on business. Getting pinched on the last possible pitch hurt like a bitch, but not as bad as whatever the UC08 girls did to their opponents on the volleyball court. The shell-shocked faces of (Withdrew)’s valiant soldiers told Bucky everything he needed to know about their game when the Bunch got back to the boy’s side of Upper Camp.

Mahalia bumps his shoulder with hers, causing half his taco to spill all over his plate. “It’s funny,” she starts, “Nevaeh plays so well. I can’t believe she hasn’t tried volleyball before.”

He already doesn't like where this is going.

“She had a lot of fun out there. She might pick volleyball over baseball when intramurals start.”

She's poaching his fucking players. Bucky’s vision goes red and he’s about to get up and leave (he learned last year that he and Mahalia are not allowed to get into screaming matches in the dining hall) when she reaches over and nabs his cookie off his plate before standing and sweeping over to her own table. He’s too stunned to speak or to look away, even as she turns over her shoulder and bites down on the treat with a coy smile.

He’s going to kill her.

#mahalia summerton #straighten up and fly right #my writing #lake harding #mahalia x bucky

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starkstruck27 · 2 months

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My fifth fill for @harringrovesummerbingo!! Prompt + Space: Blowing Dandelions, C2 Title: To Order Happy Meals for Two Major Tags: None Rating: General Word Count: 1990 words Additional Tags: Summer, Injury recovery, Mind control aftermath & recovery, Picnics, Sweet, Newfound love, Insecurity, Relationship insecurity, Protective Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is a sweetheart, Billy Hargrove lives, Billy Hargrove is a sweetheart Summary: After the incident at Starcourt, it feels like summer flew by without anything good happening. Now there's only one week left before school starts up, and a still fragile Billy Hargrove will have to go back for his senior year. Steve wants to make sure the week they have left is a good one, but after nearly losing Billy, he's not sure he knows how to do that, nor how to make sure their fairly new relationship will be able to survive the things they've both been through. Also on: Ao3

The sun was halfway set over the once again sleepy town of Hawkins, Indiana as two boys walked together through its fields at the edge of town. The late summer breeze that blew through the hilly landscape was a welcome combatant to the humid heat that still plagued the air, even as the season was coming to an end. Summer was almost over, and yet, for these two, it felt like it had barely even started.

Granted, most of that was due to the fact that the majority of their vacation was spent either at work or, after the incident, in the hospital, but still, summer never did feel the same once they’d hit high school, and now they were determined to make the most out of the week they had left before Steve had to get a new job and Billy had to go back and start his senior year.

But of course there were restrictions. Billy had almost died, in fact he did on the way to the hospital and had to be revived upon arrival. And he was still recovering after having his chest opened up and his organs impaled. His doctors were requiring him to do so much physical therapy that he was often too tired to do much of anything, and it’s not like they could go on a trip or even to the local theme park with his delicate condition. Still, they made the best of it, doing the few things they could and just enjoying each other’s company.

It was never gonna be like it was before the incident. How could it be? They started as rivals, then enemies, then, after a shared smoke and a serious talk in January while waiting for their respective kids to leave the stupid middle school dance, friends with benefits. It stopped being just that sometime around March, and by April, they privately called themselves lovers.

As far as anyone else knew, they tolerated each other, but that was the extent of it. Nobody knew the truth, and nobody would, not until they were ready, and that was going to be a while. But on those nights when they were able to meet up, just them, and watch I Love Lucy re-runs on Steve’s couch or climb up on the roof of the dugout at the school’s baseball field to talk and kiss until morning came… There was no audience, they were just them, and it was wonderful. It felt so right. Until the sun rose again, and they had to pretend they weren’t aching for the other’s touch, the exchange of some silly, lovesick words, and a look of affection rather than one of indifference.

By June they had it down to a science, how to make it seem like they couldn’t care less about the other, and they played their parts well. Until the very end of the month, when Billy confided in Steve that there was something wrong. He didn’t know what, exactly, but something just wasn’t right. And Steve had figured it out too late, had been too slow in putting the pieces together with the whole Russian thing with Robin and Dustin and by the time they’d figured out it was all connected, it was too late. Billy, for the most part, was gone, and Steve couldn’t save him, not without letting him destroy himself first. Neither of them was exactly happy about that, but it was their only hope.

It took a couple of weeks on life support until the doctors were able to get all his organs either replaced or functioning again, and another few days until Billy was fully awake and coherent. El had confirmed that the Mindflayer was gone, at least from Billy, and then the healing started.

It had been a rough road. He had a lot of scars, both physical and mental, but the physical ones would heal in time, and the mental ones were being dealt with as well thanks to Dr. Owens. Billy would have to practice a lot of things, and it would be at least a year before he could even think about going back to weightlifting, but he had a second chance at life, and that was what was important.

Still, learning to write again without his hands shaking was a bit harrowing, and it took two weeks of physical therapy for him to be strong enough to try walking on his own again. Luckily, most of the damage was to muscle, his spine had been grazed and, by some miracle, his spinal cord had been missed completely, so there wasn’t going to be much long-term damage, and the doctors hoped that, in time, with treatment, Billy would be able to fully recover.

But by the time they knew all this, there was only a week left of the summer, and they had limited ways to make the most of it.

That’s why Steve had planned this, a little surprise to get Billy out of the sterile white rooms and get himself out of his own head. He’d been feeling so guilty for everything since the incident, both because he couldn’t prevent it, but also because he couldn’t do anything to make it better. He couldn’t even be there by Billy’s side through everything, what with visiting hours at the hospital being so strict, and the lack of a good excuse for how he could get around those rules. Billy tried to assure him that he didn’t have to feel guilty, but Steve just couldn’t shake it. But, he figured, he might be able to start if he were able to salvage their last week of summer.

The first day, they hadn’t done anything. They simply stayed at Steve’s house, sitting and watching TV and eating the healthiest kind of takeout they could find in the phone book. The next day they invited Max over, and the three of them played board games on the back patio before getting ice cream from the truck that came through the neighborhood that day. The next day they went shopping, which proved to be more strenuous than they had anticipated, so the following day they just sat around and did nothing again. The day after that it rained, so they went to the movies. They planned on staying in tomorrow and just relaxing while Billy prepared to go back to school and Steve prepared for a job hunt, and that meant they only had one more day to have fun before their summer was over.

It was a cheesy idea, but one Steve knew Billy would appreciate nonetheless, and that alone made him put one foot in front of the other as he helped Billy up the hill to the little spot he’d set up earlier. Billy was starting to get winded a few steps in, but Steve was patient, stopping when they needed to and even offering to carry Billy if he’d like, but he refused. It took almost an hour to get to the spot, but once they got there, Billy had to admit, it was worth it. The sky was still blue, but it was getting close to the golden hour, and they were both looking forward to seeing the entire town glowing from their incredible vantage point.

It was sure to be a lovely sight, but not nearly as lovely as the one they were now a part of. Steve had set out a blanket in the middle of a field of dandelions and wildflowers, and though there were no candles and wine and fancy cheese boards, he figured fireflies and water bottles and happy meals would be more than fine for the both of them. Of course, he was right.

“You’ve been waiting on me hand and foot since I got out of the hospital, when did you have time to plan this?” Billy asked as he saw the scene in front of him. He’d never been much of a romantic, but this simple gesture was making his heart swell up. Nobody had ever done anything so nice for him before.

“I’ve been plotting since you were getting your balance back. I wanted to do something special to end it since we didn’t get to have much of a summer,” Steve replied, making sure Billy was steady as they went to sit down. “And I know the doctor said to watch your sodium intake, but I’m calling this a special occasion, so we can cheat just this once.”

“You’re a bad influence, Harrington,” Billy teased, laughing until it turned into a wheeze, then a cough. Steve wanted to do something, say something, but he knew Billy would just tell him to back off, so he kept his mouth shut. Billy hated being pitied, and if Steve kept hovering over every little thing, pretty soon he’d get sick of it, and neither one of them wanted to know what might happen if Billy were to snap.

“I’m fine,” he finally said as he (barely) got his breath, clearing his throat and drinking some water before giving a small smile to try and calm Steve’s nerves. He really worried too much, but Billy didn’t mind reassuring him.

“I know you are. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t think you could handle it, but you know I worry,” Steve said, picking a dandelion and twirling the stem gently between his fingers. “I came so close to losing you that now I can’t stop imagining all the ways I still could, and I want to make sure none of them happen.”

“I know how you feel. I do the same thing all the time. You don’t know how scared I was when I woke up after all the surgeries and thought that I had dreamt up everything from January on. I only realized it had all actually happened when you came to see me later that day,” Billy said, picking his own dandelion a few seconds later and smiling. “But hey, we’re still here, and we’re not going out for a long time, neither one of us.”

“You seem awfully confident about that,” Steve smiled back, and Billy shrugged.

“Well I’m not planning on going anywhere, are you?” He asked, leaning over and using his dandelion’s soft tuft to tickle under Steve’s nose. Steve swatted his hand away, suppressing a sneeze before smiling wider and saying, “Not at all.”

“Good,” Billy said, sitting up a little more and taking a deep breath. Then, he blew on the tuft of his dandelion, and even though he was starting to sputter a bit by the time the last seed was off, he had managed to get it all in one go.

“Wow, I didn’t know if I would actually be able to do that,” Billy mumbled, trying to recapture his breath, but it seemed to be coming easier now.

“Did you make a wish?” Steve asked, and Billy nodded. “What did you wish for?”

“I can’t tell you, or else it won’t come true,” he said, flicking the stem away.

“That’s a myth,” Steve said.

“So is making wishes on dandelions in the first place, but I’d rather play it safe. I really want this wish to come true,” Billy shrugged again, smiling out at the view.

“I guess you’re right,” Steve said, then sat quietly for a minute before blowing his own dandelion tuft. He made his wish, that he and Billy would both be okay, and that they’d be okay together for as long as the world would allow, and then threw the stem away, and he smiled as he finally got hungry enough to open the food he’d brought with him.

Things just seemed better then, as if the air was easier to breathe, and as they ate and talked and enjoyed their last night of summer, Steve couldn’t help but wonder if they’d wished for the same thing.

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #ficlet #stranger things #hsb2024

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swiftfootedachilles · 10 months

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what are ur FAVOURITE gallavich moments

fav gallavich scene hands down has GOTTA be the dugouts fight. i rewatched that scene 6 times in a row on my first watchthru of the show. absolutely laced with crack cocaine.

really i love all of their moments. i especially love their dynamic in seasons 4+5 and 11 but ill try to make a list of the highlights

docks scene. OBVIOUSLY. i love gay sex

them working at the kash n grab together that whole arc is everything to me

scamming and blackmailing old perverts together

ian bopping mickey on the head with a wad of cash‼️‼️

mickey assigning himself as ians nurse and loving him in ways nobody else could or would

confirming that mickey canonically likes getting choked during sex

sharing ians tiny twin bed

deleted s5 sex scene

literally. every kiss every intimate scene

wedding planning

calling each other by their last names

SINGING AND DANCING TOGETHER. just being goofy and fun and themselves together

"I WANNA BE WITH YOU" "well you dont get to be" when mickey stopped ian from throwing his parole ;-;

dressing up their teddy bear with the ballgag and throwing the ballgag into the basketball hoop

"take the fucking mask off" when trying to rob a bank in texas

in 11x12 at the balls' house when mickey tries to get away from ian but ian traps him in a bear hug

mickey getting unbelievably horny over the thought of ian brandishing a deadly weapon. and then ian kisses him so hard hes knees buckle UGHHHHH

theres so many holy shit i have to stop before i put every gallavich scene on here

#asks #anonymous #shameless #gallavich #i am. obsessed with them actually

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knightlyknight-art · 8 months

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Oh boys have I a post for you this evening

Lore from Instagram!!

LORE: [Part One]

Elaine left the vault after 200-ish years with hardly any memory at all. What she did remember came to her in vague and fuzzy flashes, but it wasn’t much, just mostly being lowered into the vault on the elevator. She had no idea who she even was, and got her name from some of her neighbor’s belongings once she finally wandered into Sanctuary.

After meeting Piper and spending a significant amount of time with her, the two started to make a habit of going to the Dugout Inn every once in awhile. There were several things that triggered the memories for Elaine, the smell of the alcohol, the buzz of the crowd in the Inn, but it was almost entirely because of the jukebox. Wordlessly Elaine got up and pulled Piper into long-practiced dances she had no idea she even knew. When the song ended and the two finally felt like they were done dancing, some of the most vivid memories of her life came back to her.

Nora used to pull Elaine into the kitchen to dance to the songs on the radio, no matter what they were doing. Once they had Shaun they had fewer opportunities, but still snuck in a little dance time during his naps.

Anyway, something something, music is incredibly powerful and it makes my heart squeeze

In this post, Elaine is dancing with Piper when they sit down to cool off, and when she looks up she sees Nora instead.

#digital art #artgallery #artistic #oc art #my oc art #digital illustration #digital aritst #art #art ref #fallout 4 #fallout oc #fallout fanart #fallout #fallout art #piper wright #sole survivor #fo4 sole survivor #fallout sole survivor

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atonalginger · 3 months

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on the jukebox at the Dugout Inn

🎶How lucky can one guy be? I kissed her and she kissed me. Like the fella once said, "Ain't that a kick in the head?"

The room was completely black. I hugged her and she hugged back. Like the sailor said, quote, "Ain't that a hole in the boat?"

My head keeps spinning. I go to sleep and keep grinning. If this is just the beginning, My life is gonna be beautiful.

I've got sunshine enough to spread. It's just like the fella said, "Tell me quick: ain't love a kick in the head?"🎶

--Kick in the Head by Dean Martin

At some point, after the first story arc has played out, Vadim will get to take Dawn back to the Dugout Inn for some R&R and a night of dancing will absolutely be on the docket.

#atonalginger art #Vadim Bobrov #Fallout 4 #fo4 #fallout 4 fanart #sole survivor #Dawn Faulkner #Through Plasma and Flames

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cuoredimuschio · 3 months

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hey, batter-batter for wip wednesday! 💕💕💕

thank you janai!!!!!! 💜💜💜💜💜💜

“Really? You’re not gonna give me anything? Come on, man!” Dramatic as ever, Eddie tosses his hands up—nearly launching their joint into the cobweb haven of the dugout roof—before bringing them together, clasped in such sensational supplication. “The curiosity is killing me instead of the cat. You show up at school on a random Tuesday with the ever-loving, holy snot beat out of your face and suddenly your girlfriend’s shacked up with another dude? No way there isn’t a helluva story there.” Steve smiles, if you want to call it that. “Yeah, there is. But legally, I can’t tell you most of it.” “A man of mystery, eh? I like that.” Behind the gloss and red tint, there’s a tease of a twinkle in his eye. It dances when he leans forward, propping his chin in his palm. “At least tell me who took such issue with your pretty face. Was it Byers again?” “Nah, Hargrove.” Even his name is slimy on Steve’s tongue. It squelches like those goddamn vines under his feet, wraps around his ankle and drags him down from his high. “Ah.” Eddie nods, just once. “Now that makes sense.”

#for context: this is post s2!!#thank you again!!!#wip game #my writing

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schmergo · 2 years

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For anyone who worries about today’s youth not having enough unstructured play

I’m currently taking a walk on a suburban neighborhood trail and there is a gaggle of about 6 tween boys hanging out in the woods next to the stream. They are currently:

* Hanging out in and around a dugout shelter made of the stream bed, logs, branches, twigs, and using scarves and shirts to tie stuff together

* Throwing rocks and sticks into the stream for points on distance and splash quality

* Blasting music and dancing around with a discarded hammer they found in the stream

They seem to be having a blast and I am happy for them

#boys will be boys

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goat-shoe · 7 months

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Touch

Dugout-focused CapOut drabble, 860 words.

Dugout wasn't popular when he was young.

He went to high school in a small town. He had his handful of friends who he would sit with, share sillybandz with and trade Pokemon cards with. Friends who he weathered middle school dances with, who made eye contact with him when group projects raptured the classroom four kids at a time, who carefully misspelled his name in his yearbook in the spring.

But by the turn of the fourth spring, he and those friends of his were at a mutual understanding. This is where they find a fork in their road: where they part, but without the sweetness of sorrow, and, instead, the weight of the facade of an empty "goodbye".

And Dugout was alone... Without a lasting friendship, and without ever having felt the warmth of another hand in his.

...

Nearly five years later, he finds himself in New York. He finds himself woven into an everyday rhythm, one that harmonizes with the city.

By day, he runds errands for Mrs. Quail. He walks through the streets, hands tucked in the pockets of his long, brown coat, arms looped through the loops of bulky, plastic, grocery bags, which's wrinkled edges sway and sing in the mild breeze of the city streets.

It's not unusual for someone to bump him, nudge him, even trip him, their larger bodies always enough to make him stumble, whether they mean it or not- he's stopped wondering. He'll huff, regain his footing, and continue on his way, not bothering to shout at anyone if he still stands upright, if his groceries are still intact, still wrapped in the plastic safety of the grocery bags, the butter still in one piece, bread un-crunched...

By night, he transforms. He dons his necklace of miracles, and finds himself on the rooftops of New York City, donned in white baseball gear, a baseball cap on his head, adorned with floppy ears, face concealed under a dark mask to protect his anonymity.

And at night, he isn't alone. Bobunny assigns patrol partners, and more often than not, he finds himself at Capricorn's side. It's just how their schedules line up, strings of fate tangling with coincidence, it's just how their cookie crumbles.

Dugout finds more and more that he spends most his time in the graces and warmth of Capricorn's company. Under the ray of their blazing smile, beside the wonder of their paintbrush, and the kindness of their gaze. And in the everything, everything, that is Capricorn, he finds comfort, safety, a home.

And he realizes, by day, that he wishes they were there at his side. There to make a quiet quip about the absolute Karen at the CVS counter, there to buy a donut for, to walk beside, to join he and Mariquita- all as citizens, like the friends he sees sitting in the coffee shop, giggling at the absolute Karen at the counter.

...

It's an accident, the first time he does it. Central park is under the terror and attack of a giraffe-themed akuma. And as a rock flies, soars, shoots, whizzes, over the deep emerald fuzz of the park's grasss, he realizes it's heading right for himself and Capricorn.

Without thinking- acting fully on heroic instinct and fear- fear of losing them. Dugout leaps, practically tackles Capricorn into the soft grass. The chunk of Earth lands, kicking up dirt and dust.

And just behind it, Dugout lays atop Capricorn, body hovering over theirs.

They both gasp, pant, realize that they're still bound to their mortal coils, both still in our realm, intact, and breathing.

Dugout blinks, eyes locked with Capricorn's. His heart leaps in his throat, chest seizing with an anxiety separate from the adrenaline rush of the battle.

His hand is on their cheek. Tenderly, delicately, brushing aside a stray strand of their blue locks.

The moment then fades into the chaos of the battle, lost to the stress and raging adrenaline.

...

Some number of times later, it's no longer a mistake.

Capricorn and Dugout stop by a bakery in the early morning hours. And as they sit atop the small building's roof, they chatter. About things that don't dare approach the risk of revealing their identities to one another: topics that maintain the safety of anonymity. New shows, movies, music.

Capricorn giggles around a bite of donut. And mumbles something through the crumbs. Dugout leans closer to hear her. Only, it makes her stutter, and Dugout feels the warmth of unfettered affection flaring in his chest, as he realizes that he's intentionally teasing her. He chuckles with her as she stumbles. And then, they both find themselves laughing. Dugout leans away, just to see her laugh.

And when they're done, and both flushed from their laughter and joy, Capricorn is left with her wild hair flittering in the breeze.

Dugout reaches, delicately, and tucks Capricorn's hair back into place. Neither of them say anything of it, instead just enjoying the sweetness of donut frosting on their lips, the quiet of the night, the chill of the night air, and the warmth of one another- close enough to touch.. but neither yet reaching out.

#mlb irl #gabby drabbies #cullykisser #capout #dugout #mirakinnie #>_< experimenting with a new writing style!!!! tell me what u think ;;;;

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