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spaceorphan18 · 3 years

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Head Over Feet (1/14)

After Kurt and Blaine broke up the second time, they went their separate ways, living their separate lives in New York City. Fifteen years later, a retirement party brings them back together into each other's orbit, with surprising, for both of them, consequences. Are they able to fit each other into their already complicated and messy lives? And are these newfound feelings real? Or just echoes of a past relationship?

Canon Divergent after Season 5.

Ao3 Link

A/N: Yes, I know I have a bunch of other WIPs - and I am still working on all of them! But I’ve been so excited about this one, I just want to get it out there...

Thanks to @snarkyhag for the beta. :)

***

Chapter 1: Loser Like Me (Part One)

Fall 2028

Blaine is dreaming. It’s all fuzzy, but there are hands… familiar hands that are on him clasping his own, cupping his face, trailing down, down, down to where it feels good. He begins to feel the warmth spread throughout his body. He feels good, so good… Lips are against his, rough and hungry, he is enveloped in want, in need… He lets out a groan, letting the pleasure overtake him. He reaches out, desperate for more, but as he does so, that good feeling starts to float away. He makes a grasp for it, but it’s no longer there, and he is left cold and wanting more.

And then his alarm goes off.

Blaine wakes up hard as a rock. He can’t remember the last time he had a dream about sex. Maybe when he had been a teenager? Or possibly college? But he doesn’t remember any of those dreams ending him with his dick actually aching to fuck something.

He stares at the ceiling for a good long moment, thinking the urgency will eventually wear off. He turns his head, slightly, to see the outline of his husband on the other side of the bed. He doesn’t bother to wake Sean -- not that morning sex had ever been a part of their marriage. They’re on opposite schedules; the show Sean is doing the costumes for is in the middle of its workshop, and if it gets picked up by a good producer, it could mean big things. And Sean is cranky in the morning, anyway.

Blaine can just as easily take care of himself.

He gets up, slowly. The erection still hasn’t died down, and Blaine begins to wonder if this is even normal for someone his age. Maybe he should call a doctor. He laughs to himself. Or maybe he should jack off and not worry about it.

He moves off the bed, having to go around it to get to the bathroom. In the process, he has to step over a huge pile of Sean’s clothes. Blaine takes a moment to pick them up, and throw them into the laundry basket. Two seconds, it takes. Is that really so hard?

The clothes also smell like booze and cigarettes, which means Sean has been staying out late with the company again. It’s fine, they used to both go all the time to the afterparties and the clubs, but some time after Blaine hit thirty, he didn’t find them as enticing any more. Something about feeling almost twice as old as everyone around him killed the spirit.

Blaine gets into the bathroom, turning on the light, and easily stripping out of the boxers that he wears to bed. His dick is still throbbing to be touched, so he gives himself a few hardy strokes before turning on the water for a shower. It’s weird, he thinks, as he gets in. Sex used to be the a staple of his marriage but, as the years passed, he and Sean manage once a week if they’re lucky. He hasn’t really missed it, or maybe he hasn’t noticed he missed it. Because getting off with just his hand doesn’t normally feel so good.

He indulges a little, thinking about that dream, and those hands on him. Letting someone else take over, take control, take him apart. He thinks, at first, of Sean, pulling from the catalogue of their sex life. Sean being the one to hold him, and stroke him, and suck him down. But as much as he tries to concentrate on his husband, the scene keeps pulling away, and there’s someone else there -- a faceless man with deft hands who knows exactly how Blaine likes to be touched.

He speeds up his hand, and yet somehow it doesn’t feel like enough. He braces himself against the tile of the bathroom wall, fucking furiously into his hand until his hips take on a life of their own. Eventually he comes, jolting hard into his hand. The orgasm tears through him, and he lets out a near scream that he hopes doesn’t wake Sean.

It takes a moment to come down, and he leans against the tiles, enjoying the blissed out feeling as the hot water sprays over him. He’s not sure what had brought all that on but he does feel more relaxed. He’s been too pent up lately. Maybe he does need to start seeing his therapist again…

***

On Wednesdays, Blaine only teaches one class and he is back home by noon in time, usually, to make himself lunch before heading out to do afternoon errands (or stay in and grade papers). Before the workshop started, he and Sean would usually make Wednesday nights their together time. But those have faded away over the past year or so. Blaine has gotten used to spending the evenings alone, to the point that when Blaine arrives back at the apartment that afternoon, he’s startled to see Sean there making himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Sean stands against the counter, chewing the sandwich slowly as he watches Blaine put his bag and coat on one of the kitchen table chairs. “You okay?” Sean asks, taking another bite. A bit of crust lands in his red beard, and he brushes it off and onto the floor. Blaine shakes his head, now he understands why the floor is always so filthy. “You’re looking at me as if I’m a stranger in the house.”

“No, it’s fine,” Blaine says. Maybe it’s not. It feels, weirdly, like an intrusion on his private time, but the thought is laughable. His husband is home -- he should be happy. Blaine begins to rifle through the fridge, pulling out a container of tuna fish to have for lunch. They could eat together, at the table, like civilized people. “What happened with the workshop?”

“Remember me telling you about Ashleigh and Karyn and their obsessive ambition to be the first to win a Tony? Or whatever the fuck they’re actually looking for.”

“Yes.” No? Maybe? He can’t keep all of the cast members of Sean’s show straight. But Blaine doesn’t really feel like listening to a who’s who tangent. He finishes making the sandwich as Sean explains further.

“Well, I don’t know how it started, but I know how it ended -- with the both of them in the hospital,” Sean says. “So with both the lead and the understudy out, the workshop is on hold for a little while.”

“Wait, who was the lead again?” Blaine asks. Sandwich made, he grabs some chips from the pantry and a bottle of water and heads to the kitchen table. Sean follows him, leaving his now empty plate on the counter, before taking his usual seat across from Blaine.

“Karyn,” Sean says, stealing some chips from Blaine’s bag. “The blonde.”

“Right.”

“So, I guess you have me home for a while.”

Blaine plasters an immediate smile to his face. He’s not entirely sure how to feel, though. “Are you still getting paid?”

“Yeah,” Sean grabs more chips. “Marv’s gotta girl lined up in case it takes longer. Shouldn’t be more than a week.”

“Ah.”

Sean taps his fingers on the table. Blaine sips from his water bottle. There’s a siren outside somewhere, and the upstairs neighbor’s dog sprints back and forth, causing the ceiling to creek.

“I paid the water bill,” Sean says after a long moment.

“Great,” Blaine says. “I still say we should get reimbursed for the neighbors tapping into our pipes.”

“I’ll talk to Greg about it.”

“Great.”

Blaine eats his sandwich in a strange sort of silence as Sean watches him. He feels like they should talk about something. What do they usually talk about these days? Work? The apartment? The new musical mini-series Netflix put out? Sean doesn’t ask how Blaine’s class went. Blaine doesn’t offer to talk about it. Nothing really feels like a good conversation.

Which is why Blaine decides to mention it… “So, I had the weirdest dream last night.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it was some kind of sex dream,” Blaine says, licking the tuna from his fingers. “I woke up hard as fuck.”

Sean gives a smirk. “I can’t tell if this is your way of telling me you want to fool around tonight, or if you’re concerned and want to see a doctor.”

Blaine laughs into his water. “I decided I’m too young still to have dick problems, and jacked off in the shower.”

Sean’s eyes go wide with amusement. “Shame I missed that show. If you’re still feeling it, we can mess around after lunch if you want.”

Blaine gives an unenthused shrug. “I’ve got some errands to run. Then I’m having dinner with Santana tonight, but if you want to catch the late show, it can be arranged.”

“We’ll see,” Sean says. “I told some of the guys I’d meet them out for drinks tonight. There’s a new bar opening over in SoHo.”

A flash of irritation runs through Blaine. It’s not the turning down of sex that bothers him. He really doesn’t want to spend his evening at a bar in SoHo. He really doesn’t want to spend the evening with Sean’s questionable friends ‘Way-Too-Flirty’ Don and ‘Drinks-Too-Much’ Steve. He doesn’t even really want to go out, especially when he has to teach an early morning class. But he’s not there to tell Sean what to do.

He finishes off the sandwich without a word. It’s not like Sean feels differently about Santana.

“You know, speaking of Santana, that reminds me,” Sean says, getting up from his seat. He goes over to the counter and brings back a red envelope. “This came for you today -- from McKinley High.”

Blaine takes it with interest. He gets mailers from Dalton Academy all the time -- even if he didn’t graduate from there, he had still technically been an alumni. But something from McKinley? That just seems weird. It isn’t the right time for there to be a reunion. He has no idea what it could possibly be.

He opens it up to find a black and gold invitation. “Oh,” he says a little fondly as he reads it. “My old glee club teacher is retiring. He’s inviting everyone back for homecoming weekend to celebrate. Cute.”

Sean grabs at the paper after Blaine lets it drop back to the table. “Do you want me to come with you?” he offers quietly.

“Would you want to go?” It’s not often that Sean comes with him on the rare occasions he heads back to Ohio.

Sean hesitates before he speaks, and snacks on another couple of chips before replying. “I probably should stay to make sure Marv has a handle on this whole Ashleigh-Karyn thing. That is, unless you’d like me to go.”

Blaine stares hard at the paper. It’s not like he couldn’t go. He doesn’t have to teach on Fridays, and the school is having a holiday weekend that same weekend. In theory, he could and it wouldn’t be a problem. “I don’t even know if I should.”

“Maybe go to see your parents, Blaine,” Sean says. “It’s got to be at least a few years since you’ve seen them.”

“I saw them last year at…” Blaine considers. Has time really flown by so quickly? “Huh, I guess it has been at least two since that Christmas we spent in Ohio.” He sits back in his chair to think about it.

“Hey, Blaine…” There’s suddenly a heaviness in the air. There’s something behind Sean’s eyes that hadn’t been there earlier. Something that Blaine catches glimpses of every once in a while. Something that they’ve been avoiding and, for a moment, Blaine fears that Sean is actually going to bring it up. The room gets darker, just a cloud passing by the sun, but everything is still -- too still, and Blaine’s heart begins to race. The moment passes, though, and whatever Sean had been about to say changes. “I guess talk to Santana about it, and see what she says.”

Blaine stares down at the paper again. Suddenly, a weekend away from the apartment, away from the city, away from Sean doesn’t seem like such a bad idea. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

***

The fall wind is sharp in its crispness, but it’s still a nice enough evening to go for a run in Central Park. Three days a week, he and Santana Lopez go out for a jog then grab dinner at a nearby taco truck so they can sit and gossip. Santana, who’s office isn’t far from where they meet, is already waiting for Blaine when he arrives. She is stretching her legs, bent over in a V, wearing her usual black spandex pants with a bright, blue bomber jacket that billows slightly. Her designer sunglasses rest on the top of her head.

Because he has been thinking about high school all day, he can’t help but think that she hasn’t changed much. Her face has hardened a little with age, but Blaine knows her beauty care routine is much more extensive than his, and he knows how much she spends on wigs and dye jobs. Today, though, her long, black hair is pulled back tightly in a high pony, amusingly reminiscent of how she wore it in high school.

“Okay, so I have some hot goss for you today,” she says, immediately after they exchange pleasantries. She waits for him to do his own stretching, but continues to launch into her news. “So, you remember how I’ve been endlessly talking about the cute redhead on the floor below?”

“The one who works as a secretary for the greasy lawyer?” Blaine pulls his leg back. The stretching feels nice, he is glad he is able to get out of the stuffy apartment in some capacity tonight, even if he can tell Santana is a bit more ramped up than usual.

Santana nods. “So for weeks now, it’s been flirty glances, and unbuttoning buttons to show off some pretty pricey brassieres, but you know, nothing direct. Well, today she comes up to my floor, claiming the bathroom is not working in their offices -- and I checked, she was totally lying -- and she’s wearing this tight, and I mean tight, nearly see-through button-down. With no bra. She had on no bra. I could see her fucking nipples, Blaine.”

“The nerve,” Blaine teases. They begin to walk down their usual path. They have a good quarter of a mile before they usually start jogging, though they might go the first half of their two miles at a walking pace just so Santana could release her pent up energy verbally.

“Who doesn’t wear a bra in a professional setting?” Santana continues. Blaine arches an eyebrow at her. “Okay, so I have totally done it, but I promise you it was warranted. Anyway, I think she’s trying to kill me. I took all of my restraint not to pull her directly into the janitor’s closet and make out with her. And play with her tits. I can’t unsee her fucking hot tits, Blaine.” Santana grumbles, putting a fist to her head, as if it’ll magically erase the image.

“You know, you could ask for her number,” Blaine suggests, for maybe the third time since Santana has started talking about the woman. “Or, you know, find out her name.”

Santana looks at him sharply. He knows, she just wants a minute to bitch and revel in her janitor closet fantasies, but it’s not in him not to offer suggestions. “Her name is Liz. I at least found that out today.”

“Well, that’s a start,” Blaine offers.

“Alright, what’s up with you?” she asks abruptly. “Usually, you’re talking my head off about school, and I’m always having to catch up to you. You’re trailing me by nearly a foot. Something’s going on.”

Santana’s senses are rarely off, he shouldn’t be as surprised as he is by it. He tries to quicken his pace but she is right, he is been in his head all day. “I’m thinking of going back to therapy.” He says it simply, laying it out as if it’s another fact, and not something that’s been weighing on his mind.

She gives him a concerned look. “Is this a ‘just you’ thing? Or a ‘you and Sean’ thing?”

“A ‘just me’ thing,” he admits. They are nearly at the lamp post where they usually start to jog, but he’s not feeling as up to it as he had been when he arrived at the park. “Sean’s staying home for a few days, and I’ve been restless lately…” he doesn’t quite say the things he’s thinking. “And, I don’t know, I had a weird sex dream this morning. I’ve been off all day.”

“Well, what does Sean think?”

“He offered to fuck, but I told him I had it taken care of.”

“What, no, not about the sex dream,” Santana stops in her tracks. They have to wait a moment for an older woman walking a doberman to pass in-between them. “What does your husband think about you going to therapy?”

“It didn’t come up.”

“God, Blaine,” Santana says, exasperated. “Well, if you really would rather spend your evening with me than reconnecting with your husband who is, as you well know, built like a fucking viking, then maybe therapy is what you need.”

It’s more complicated than that. She knows some of it, but maybe not all of it, and it’s more than Blaine would really like to get into on their fairly public walk through Central Park. But Santana has also grown to be one of his closest friends and, if nothing else, he can confide in her.

“I’m going to set up an appointment,” he tries to play it off as just another thing. She knows better, and gives him one of her infamous staredowns. “And if it’s something I think I need to continue to do, I’ll keep you informed,” he tries to assure her.

“You better, Anderson.” Her voice is sharp. “I may have a cold, dead heart, but I want you to be happy. And you know I’m always going to be blatantly honest with you, so I say this with all the love I can muster, but I don’t think you are.”

“I know, I know…” He’s not not happy. He loves his job. He loves his little apartment. He loves being in one of the greatest cities in all of the world. He and Sean are… “So, hey, did you get your invitation to Mr. Schue’s retirement party?” He begins to walk again. He knows he’s avoiding the conversation, so does Santana. But she rolls with it.

“He’s retiring? Dear god, he’s barely over fifty.”

Blaine lets out a little laugh. “Well, that’s what the invitation said.”

“And, fuck, no, I haven’t gotten one,” Santana says. “Though, it’s been a couple weeks since I’ve checked the mail. Who sends invitations through the mail these days? Just start a text chain like a normal person.”

“Would you go?” He asks. He’s been back and forth on the idea all day. Does he really want or need to see anyone from high school again? Possibly? Would it be nice to get away for a weekend? Most definitely. Can he really afford to skip town for a little while? That is the big unanswered question.

Santana bites her lip, thinking it over. “I mean it really depends on who else got these magical invitations. Oh, god, will Rachel Berry be there? Please tell me Rachel Berry will be there. Because I have got to see how little Miss TV-Princess does in a place that does not revolve around her ego.”

Blaine has never had the issues with Rachel that Santana had, but he does remember college. He does remember Funny Girl. “Sorry, Santana, I don’t actually have an answer for you on that one.”

Santana throws her hands in the air. “You keep in touch with everyone, right? Well, isn’t she part of everyone?”

“I think she’s become a little out of my status level,” Blaine replies, with a smirk. “Besides, I don’t keep in touch with everyone .” Truth be told, Santana might be the only person he talks to from high school. At least on a regular basis. For all the promises made during the time of staying BFFs forever, real life managed to get in the way of the magical thinking.

“Alright, let’s work it out, right now, cause this will be the determining factor,” she says. She pulls at a leaf from one of the trees above her, causing the branch to bounce. It nearly whacks him in the head, which causes her to giggle a little and shake her head. “Let’s see… Rachel Berry, possibly. Said ego might drive her back to the place where it all began.”

“Sam Evans will probably be there,” Blaine says. “He does still live in the area.” He and Sam don’t have a lot of contact, but occasionally they’ll do a long distance Fantasy Football thing or chat about a new video game they both own. He hopes Sam will go - he could use more of that laid back charm in his life.

“Artie clearly won’t be,” Santana continues. “I know, because I’m the one who put him on the European press tour for his new film.”

“I doubt Tina will be there either,” Blaine adds. “She just had her third baby, and she and Ron probably don’t want to make the trip from Boston to Lima with three young children.”

He thinks of Tina’s Instagram, the only way he really communicates with her, and the constant updates for her hectic life. She’s happy and looking good, and way too busy to drop everything and run back to Ohio. Blaine makes a note to give her a call at some point to congratulate her formally on the new baby, even if he had already left a cute note on the Instagram pictures.

Santana is too caught up in her thought process to say more about Tina. “Finn won’t be there for obvious reasons. What the fuck happened to Puck? I doubt he has an address to even send anything to. Quinn’s too prideful to drag her divorced ass out of Connecticut. You know she’s already taken a new lover ? She’s in her mid-thirties, and still hitting up the sugardaddies. I mean, have some goddamn respect for yourself.”

“Well, Mike’s in Chicago,” Blaine offers. Mike had been part of the Chicago Ballet for a long time, and had since become a dance instructor. Blaine had been at Mike’s wedding to his wife, Marie, a couple of years ago, and he’s another one whom Blaine wouldn’t mind seeing again. Maybe he, Mike, and Sam could have a nice guys’ night out that weekend. He’ll have to get in touch.

Santana nods. They walk by a woman sitting on a bench with two screaming children. Blaine feels bad for the woman, but he and Santana share a look -- both of them glad that they don’t have to deal with that kind of hot mess at home.

“Then there’s Mercedes,” Santana says, looking up and out into the world. “Goddess among women. We do not have the privilege to be in her presence.” Santana laughs at her own comments. “Seriously, though, I love my girl, but I don’t judge her for continuing to live her best life.”

“What about Brittany?” Blaine asks, tentatively. He has no idea if this is a sore subject for her or not because he doesn’t think Santana has brought her up once over the course of their friendship.

Santana becomes stoney-faced, as if not to give herself too much away. “No,” she says simply. “Brittany’s living in some commune in LA where she does Fondue for Two and runs a cat babysitting service.”

“That’s a thing?”

“In LA it is.” A fond smile climbs on her lips. “In any case, as much as I am always up for seeing my girl again, I highly doubt she’ll be back. I mean, we were still hooking up for a while the few times I made it out to LA, but recently she’s found someone a little more… permanent. And before you go on pitying me, let me assure you, I am more than fine.” She’s quiet for a moment as she reflects. For a person who is almost always open about her thoughts, she’s decidedly reclusive when it comes to matters of her heart. Blaine knows better than to try to pry it out of her. “Anyway, if we’re going to be upfront about exes, I believe there’s only one person left, if we’re not counting random chicks with mafia dads or weird Irish exchange students. And I’m sure we both know that there’s no way in hell Lady Hummel is coming back to Lima, Ohio.”

“Oh!” Blaine says, as if it’s a complete revelation. Kurt hadn’t even entered his mind, and it is surreal to think that his brain didn’t go there first.

“Oh, please, don’t tell me you actually forgot about Lady Hummel and his heartbreaking ways,” Santana scoffs. “Pretty sure years of therapy couldn’t undo all the trauma that did.”

She isn’t wrong, and she would know, because she helped pick him up a year after everything had happened. But that’s the funny thing -- it’s not that he doesn’t remember Kurt. (God, he remembers all of Kurt.) He doesn’t remember the person he used to be when he had been with Kurt. There had been a time when he would have shifted the Sun and the Moon and the entire Earth for Kurt Hummel. A time when his heart had pointed in only one direction. And a time so dark that when Kurt had ended it, Blaine didn’t know how he would ever move on.

And yet he did.

The person he had been is now such a faded memory he can barely remember what those feelings were like. Kurt Hummel is just another name from his past, a person who, yes, helped shape him into the person he is now. But long gone are the emotions once attached to that name. Funny how things can change. Someone could mean so much to you at one point in time, and yet after time…

“I didn’t forget about Kurt, clearly,” Blaine says. He grabs her arm, and loops his own through it. The jog isn’t happening today, and he’s fine with that. Some days, it’s best just to have the company rather than the exercise. “I just think you’re right, unless Burt is dying or something. But doubtful that he’ll return for a silly retirement party.”

“You almost sound disappointed.”

Blaine shrugs, and gives a smile. He doesn’t know how he feels about whether or not Kurt will be there. He hasn’t thought about him so long. But he does know that after all this talk of the past, maybe he is ready to go back and see if anyone else is feeling the same way. “I think we should do it. Go back. I mean, why not?”

Santana shakes her head. “Oh, this whole idea sounds like the worst, but if there’s a chance I get to make-out with Quinn Fabray again, then I’m in.”

For the first time in a while, Blaine feels a little lighter on his feet.

***

Not a few weeks later, Blaine is on a plane back to Ohio.

He and Sean talked it over and, while Sean had been technically free to go, they agreed that maybe it would be better if Blaine went himself; the unspoken dialogue being that space isn’t the worst thing they could give each other. Blaine had not been able to help but be fidgety with his wedding ring during the flight but, intent on giving himself a weekend off from real life, he drowned himself in his favorite podcasts, and had tried not to think about his life in New York.

The party is on a Saturday afternoon, but he’s there on Friday so to spend time with his mom. They end up having a nice lunch together, and she takes him shopping. She’s as feisty as ever, somehow managing to remind Blaine of Santana, and he wonders if she’s always been like that or if that’s a new trait of being in your sixties. They end up FaceTiming with Cooper and the kids, and Blaine indulges his little nieces by singing them Disney Princess songs. The whole day weirdly feels like the family they usually are only around Christmas time, but he’s in good enough spirits that he doesn’t question it.

Later that night, his dad comes home, and they have pizza before his parents go off for one of their social benefit parties they often frequent, reminding Blaine of the old days when his parents were never home on a Friday night. He doesn’t mind so much because McKinley’s Homecoming Football game is that night.

His original plan had been to meet up with Sam since Santana’s plane isn’t coming in until tomorrow. But Sam declined, stating that Mercedes Jones is coming late that night and she needs a ride from the airport. Sam didn’t ask Blaine to come with him. Blaine calls up Mike, who is happy to hear from him, and says that he will be at the party but is only going to make the trip to Lima once on Saturday. He doesn’t bother trying to get a hold of anyone else, and ends up going to the game alone.

Coming back to McKinley feels like going back in time, and yet the kids running around make him feel entirely too old to be there. He half expects Sue Sylvester to pop out and start yelling at the cheerleaders, or Mr. Figgins to make some sort of half-time speech, but the world of McKinley has moved on, even if the campus has remained remarkably the same. The game is fun, but kind of boring, and he’s not surprised when the team loses by seventeen points. Still, seeing the array of alumni all cheering around him, he feels a strange sort of connection to the place in a way that he really didn’t when he actually went to the school. It’s a bit surreal.

Afterwards, not ready to go home to an empty house, he drives around for a bit, until by chance, he drives by Scandals, Lima’s decrepit excuse for a gay bar. Feeling somewhat amused, a little nostalgic, and a lot in need of a drink, he decides to grab a beer for old times’ sake. He decides, on a whim, to put his wedding ring in his pocket. He’s not actually planning anything, but it’s also not like Sean wears his anymore, anyway.

Scandals is even more in a sad state of affairs then he remembers, even if ‘Funk-It-Up-Friday’ is trying to give the place some of that Mid-Western Charm. He orders a bottled beer, and sips as he thinks fondly about the time he watched Dave Karofsky try to line dance. God, that had been so long ago…

“I’m guessing this place rarely sees a man as gorgeous as you. Mind if I buy you a drink?”

It takes a moment for Blaine to realize the pick-up line is directed at him, but he does instantly recognize the voice. Much to his shock, when he turns around, he’s face to face with a much older, and yet still dazzlingly magnificent, Kurt Hummel.

#s.o. writes things #head over feet #klaine #klaine fic #it's the older klaine reunion fic!#i'm loving writing this one

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theoreticslut · 3 years

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Tu m'appartiens // g.w.

pairing: george weasley x reader

requested: no

word count: 3.4k

warnings: some jealousy, somewhat steamy dialogue?, fluff

A/N: Ahhh! I’ve been wanting to write this for like two weeks now, and thanks to my brain deciding 3am is the perfect time to remember my high school french lessons and create a full french conversation as I’m trying to go to bed, I figured why not write it today when I’ve already got a good portion of the french out of the way. It also helps that my laptop magically started behaving again for me so I could type on here instead of my phone. I’m very excited to have this done, and I really hope you guys like it too. I feel like I’ve lost my touch for writing so I’m just trying to get back into it. disclaimer - I have never and will never claim fluency in french. All the french in this is simply from my memory of how things should be formatted with help from the internet. If you fluently speak french and notice there’s errors, don’t worry about letting me know. Just be kind about it. That or you can just ignore it for me, that’s be cool too. Anyways, I hope you guys like this!! Xx

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*Translations added after each phrase!

"Mon Cheri! (Honey) I'm home. How was your day today?" Your father asks as he apparates into the kitchen. You smile, closing the fridge door as you grabbed a bowl of grapes.

"Bonjour, papa. I've been good. How about you? How was work?" You ask, taking a seat at the kitchen island while your father busies himself with taking off his jacket and getting comfortable.

"Good, good. You remember that eccentric coworker of mine I was telling you about? Arthur?"

You nod, popping a grape into your mouth. It was one of the first things he had told you about after moving here to Britain and starting work at the Ministry. You had to admit that the man sounded interesting. Bright red hair and obsessed with muggle inventions. He sounded like he'd be a fun person to talk to. Not to mention, your father had said he was extraordinarily kind and welcoming. You were glad he had met someone to get him acquainted with the new job.

"We were talking today and I had mentioned that you were going to be starting at Hogwarts beginning of September, so of course he was wondering how old you were. So I told him, and guess what? It turns out he has two sons - twins - your age."

"Vraiment (really)? That's cool, papa. You think they'll be able to help me adjust to Hogwarts?"

"I'm hoping, mon cheri (honey). Arthur invited us over for dinner to introduce us to his family, and so you could meet his children. Says he's got the twins that are your age, a boy two years younger, and a daughter a year younger than that. At the very least, you can get to know some kids before starting school, yeah?"

"Of course. It sounds like fun, papa. When did he invite us over for?"

"Sunday. Is that alright?"

"Perfect! Can't wait!"

~.~

When Sunday finally comes around, you're a mess of nerves and excitement. You nervous about meeting new people, especially kids you'd be going to school with. You didn't have any problems with school or having friends back at Beauxbatons, but being in a new country, you weren't sure what people would think of you.

It's not like you weren't a kind and friendly person, but there was the worry of people teasing you for speaking a different language. You knew English well enough, but you still had the French accent which you were sure sounded funny to others.

"Are you ready, y/n?"

You look up to see your father poking his head into the room. You smile and nod, taking a deep breath to calm your rising nerves. You weren't usually this nervous about anything, but you could feel your heart racing and palms sweating. You only hoped you wouldn't make a fool of yourself in front of the Weasley family.

"Yeah. As ready as I can be I guess."

He smiles, motioning for you to follow him out. You quickly grab your jacket and bag, taking one last glance around the room to make sure you weren't forgetting anything. Sighing, you decide that you've got everything you think you'll need before following your father out of the apartment to your shared car.

Since you hadn't yet been to the Weasley's home, you decided it would be best to drive there instead of apparating or using the Floo. You weren't sure exactly how far away they lived, but it couldn't have been too far.

~.~

Reading road signs, you smile as you drive through Ottery St Catchpole as it's a quaint little town with few houses spread across the land. You figured it was as beautiful a place as any to live, better than in the middle of a larger town like you and your father did. Out here you got to hear birds and nature, whereas the town rang loud with cars and chatter. You could never find any peace in the city, but there was no shortage of it here.

"Well that's nice." you hear your father compliment, looking at the slightly lopsided house in front of the two of you.

"Is this the Weasley's?"

"I believe so. It's a nice home they've got, isn't it mon cherie (my dear)?"

"Beautiful. It looks like it'd be homey inside." You smile, getting out of the car as your dad turns off the car.

"y/d/n, I'm glad to see you. This must be your daughter?" A red-haired man asks, smiling at the both of you as he comes out from the house.

"She is. It's nice to see you, Arthur. Thank you for inviting us to dinner."

"Yes, merci (Thank you) Mr. Weasley." You smile, curtseying lightly at the older man.

"It's nice to meet you, dear. Y/n, right?"

You nod and smile, shaking the hand that Arthur holds out to you.

"Oui (Yes). It's nice to meet you too."

"Well come on inside and meet my wife and our children. Get comfortable." Arthur invites, leading you and your father back to the house.

Upon entering you're met with a hug from an older woman, who you can only assume is Mrs. Weasley. Already you're liking this family, but you can't help but notice that she too sports ginger hair.

"Hello, Hello. It's so nice to meet you. You must be, y/n?"

"Uh, yes. Enchanté, Mrs. Weasley. It's nice to meet you." You smile, a small blush coming to your cheeks.

Your father was an affectionate person, but this was a whole new level. You can't say you didn't mind it though. You hadn't even been inside the house for five minutes yet, but you already felt welcomed and cared for.

"Oh, dear. Call me Molly. I'm so glad you and your dad decided to come tonight. Arthur hasn't been able to stop talking about his new French co-worker and daughter."

You nod, chuckling a bit. Your dad has been the same way about Arthur. It's no surprise that they were friends.

"When I found out how old you were, I just had to invite you all over. My children are...somewhere around here. Let's introduce you. Fred and George are in the same year, so I thought it'd be great for you three to get to know each other before classes start."

"Of course. I appreciate it tremendously, Molly. It'll definitely be nice to know at least someone when I start."

"Of course, dear. Here, one second."

"Fred! George! Ron! Ginny! Come meet our guests!"

You smile, taking the time to look around the house at all the pictures and personal touches. There was no denying that this house was full of love.

"Guests?" You hear someone ask, footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Yes, Fred. I told you all we'd be having your father's work friend and his daughter over this weekend." Molly sighs as two identical boys come into view.

You can't help but chew on your lip as you smile lightly. The two boys were definitely attractive, but you didn't want to think about that right now. You weren't looking for a relationship.

"Boys, meet Y/n." Molly introduces, motioning towards you.

"Hi. Enchanté."

" Enchanté?" they ask, brows furrowing in confusion.

"Nice to meet you. It's a standard greeting, guys." You hear someone else call and your attention is drawn over to the doorway where yet another ginger has appeared with a blonde attached to his arm. You're not quite sure why, but the blonde seems even more comforting than Molly.

"Bill! I'm glad you and Fleur and could make it!" You hear Molly smile, pulling the man into a hug as the blonde smiles, greeting the woman with a small hug.

"Ohh. It's nice to meet you too. I'm George." one smiles, holding his hand out for our to shake.

"I'm Fred." The other introduces, giving you a cheeky smile as you blush lightly, shaking both of their hands.

You try to find any differences between them, but there's not many. You can tell that one, George if you remember correctly, has a bit more of an oval-shaped face compared to his brother, but that’s about all you can tell right now.

“Ah, Salut! Bon soir.(Hi! Good evening)” The blonde greets, excited at having another French women in the place. She loved Bill and his family, but she did miss France. She could only imagine how overwhelmed to must feel.

“Bon soir.” You greet, smiling as she quickly kisses each of your cheeks in typical French greeting.

“Je m’appelle Fleur. Tu t’appelles est...?” (My name is Fleur. Your name is...)

“Y/n. Enchanté (nice to meet you), Fleur. Comment ça va (how are you)?” You inquire out of politeness, realizing now why she seemed so comforting to you when she walked in - she was French which was familiar, hence comforting.

“Enchanté. Ça va très bien! Et toi?” (Nice to meet you. I am very well! And you?)

“Eh, ça va. C’est trés fou (eh, okay. It’s very crazy)” you chuckle, earning a small chuckle and nod from her.

“Ah, oui (yes). You get used to it though, y/n.”

You sigh and nod, looking around at all the people currently occupying the house. You definitely did not expect this when your father had told you that you'd been invited over for dinner.

~.~

"So, y/n, dear. Are you excited for Hogwarts?" Molly asks as you all sit down and eat dinner.

"I am. I'm a bit nervous though. Never really thought I'd be transferring schools this late in my education, especially to another country."

"That's understandable, dear. Hogwarts is wonderful though. All of my children have gone there, and you'll have these four to help get you situated." She smiles, nodding towards the twins, ron, and Ginny, who you met shortly after Fleur.

"Absolutely! It'll be so much fun having you around." Ginny smiles, taking a bite of her food.

"What did you think of hogwarts when you visited, mon ange (my angel)?" You hear Bill ask Fleur.

You furrow your brows, not expecting Fleur to have attended Hogwarts.

"It was nice. Different to Beauxbatons, but I don't ‘ave any complaints." She smiles.

You nod, feeling a little better knowing that someone else had had a good experience with the school having come from another country.

"Fred and George, I'm sure, will have no problem showing you around and introducing you to people. And they'll behave for your sake." Molly indirectly threatens, a chuckle leaving Fred's lips.

"Of course, mum. We won't scare the poor girl. Not right away at least."

"Pardon (excuse me)?" you ask, a little worried about who your classmates were already.

"Ignore him, y/n. They like to pull pranks around the castle, but if they ever pulled one on you, I'm sure they know that I'll be coming for them, don't you guys?" ginny questions, cocking a brow at her two older brothers.

"Of course, Gin. We wouldn't dream of pranking y/n here." George states, both him and Fred looking a bit nervous at their sister's warning.

You chuckle, smiling at the ginger girl who is quickly becoming your favourite weasley. She sends a small wink your way, enjoying the hold she has over her brothers.

~.~

You sigh, gulping back nerves as you look at all the students around the platform. You knew that Hogwarts wasn't a small school, but you had never really stopped to consider just how many students there would be.

"You doing okay?" Fred asks, him and George coming to stand either side of you.

"Just perfect." You quip, your eyes dancing with worry as your heart pounds out the

song.

"Breathe, y/n. We'll be here and so will Ron and Ginny. I'm sure Hermione will be by your side too once she gets to know you." George reassures, resting his arm on your shoulder.

"Y/n!"

You turn at the call of your name, lighting up when you see Fleur and Bill coming your way. You luckily made friends with Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny pretty quickly, but you were beyond grateful you had made friends with Fleur as well. She has truly been the one keeping you calm and getting adjusted to Britain so far.

"Fleur! I'm glad to see you!" You smile, hugging her.

"Respire (take a breath/breathe). You'll be fine, I promise."

"Ahh, Je suis très nerveuse (Ahh, I am very nervous)." you admit. She gives you a small smile, noticing the worry in your face.

"Je sais (I know). just breathe."

You take a deep breath, watching her anxiously as she sends you a small smile.

"You will be fine. Je le jure (I swear)."

"Y/n, we better board the train soon if we want a good seat." George calls to you, nodding towards the train behind him.

"I'll be right there." You sigh, a smile playing on your lips as you watch the ginger twin you've become friends with.

"Y/n...Que penses-tu de lui (what do you think of him)?" Fleur asks you, taking notice of how much you've seemed to calm down while looking at him.

"Qui (who)? George?"

"Ah, oui." She says, as if it was obvious.

"Oh. Uh, Je ne sais pas. Je veux dire...Il est très mignon." (oh. Uh, I don’t know. I mean...he is very cute.)

She smiles, glancing back at Bill as she replies, "Je le savais (I knew it)!"

"Fleur! Shush. It's not like anything's going to come of it."

"I wouldn't be so sure, Y/n. Anyways, you need to get going! Bonne chance (good luck). You'll do great!"

You huff, frowning as Fleur shoves you towards the train and where George is standing. You adore her, but she sure is frustrating at times. How could she possibly think you have a chance with him?

He smiles when he sees you, grabbing your hand with his as he pulls you on to the train, barely giving you a chance to catch your balance from when Fleur pushed you.

~.~

"Tu es un idiot (you are an idiot), george." You sigh, shaking your head at the redhead as he makes a stupid joke.

"Hey!" he laughs, understanding what you said thanks to you teaching him a bit of French here and there.

After noticing how you spoke in french from time to time, George asked you to teach him just for fun. That and he kind of wanted to know what you were saying.

He truly enjoyed it too. He loved listening to you speak french and loved it even more when you complimented him on his pronunciation. He couldn't help but feel proud when you smiled at him because he finally understood a word or started pronouncing it right, either.

You two have become really close since you started teaching him, too. You could easily say that he was your closest friend here, but you would never complain about it. George was amazing to talk to and hang out with, always making you laugh and smile.

Although, as you had at Beauxbatons, you easily made friends here at Hogwarts. You might not have been close to any of them like you were with George, but you almost always had someone you could say hi to in the halls.

George was glad you could make friends so easily as he knew how anxious it had made you, but at the same time, he was a bit jealous. He's not sure why or when this happened, but he found himself not wanting to share you. He didn't want you being friendly with other guys, and he surely didn't want them being friendly with you.

George wasn't blind, nor was he dumb. He knew how attractive you were, having been taken aback when he first saw you that night at his house for dinner. He knew that others would find you attractive, especially since you were a new girl and had this beautiful accent. On top of that, you were just overwhelming charismatic. Not only were you kind, but you were brilliant and confident. You easily captured the attention of a room wherever you were, and maybe that's why George was so jealous. You were no longer his little secret, but rather a well-known personality among everyone.

"Are you ever nice to me?" he pouts, jokingly as you. You purse your lips in thought, following in the joking tone.

"Ehh, parfois (sometimes). I did teach you French if you remember correctly."

"That you did, ma lapine (my bunny). " he smiles, bumping his shoulder with yours.

~.~

"Yeah, if you'd ever like to study together, we could get together..."

George fumes as he watches Roger Davies shamelessly flirt with you. He knew this would start soon enough, but that doesn’t mean he'd like it. He's still jealous whenever some guy says hi to you, not that he has any right to, but he does.

As he watches you smile and agree with Davies, he can't help but start clenching his jaw together, absentmindedly grinding his teeth.

He should be the one you're talking to and flirting with, Not Davies nor anyone else. He should be the one to be bring a smile to your face and a laugh from your lips. He should be the one you're with, not anyone else.

In all reality, he's the one that fell for you first. Surely you have to see that. Or at least feel that. Otherwise why would you smile at him the way you do? Why would you spend your nights with him, even when you have Ginny and Hermione and your roommates to hang out with?

"Bonjour, mon amour (hello, my love)." you greet, having taken to calling him your love shortly after he started calling you his bunny.

"George? Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?" (what’s wrong?)

You frown as he looks upset, angry. You can't recall him looking this angry over anything before. Sure you've only known him since July, but that's still a lot of time for you two to see each other in a number of emotional states.

You pout, eyes filled with concern as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you tight to his side before you start walking to merlin knows where.

"Hey, y/n, Ma lapine."

"yes, Qu'est-que c'est (what is it)?"

You watch as George leans down, lips barely ghosting over your ear. The only reason you know he's there is from his hot breath fanning over the crest of your ear. You gasp a little, trying to contain a shiver as you feel your heart rate quicken at his proximity. You've liked George practically since you met him, but you never expected anything to happen between the two of you. He's got your mind spinning right now, however, with his actions.

"George" You mumble, turning your head slightly towards him.

"Tu m'appartiens (you belong to me)." He nearly growls, your knees becoming weak at his statement.

"Pardon (sorry)? George, what-"

"Comprenez vous? Tu m'appartiens (Do you understand? You belong to me)." He states again, butterflies erupting in your stomach as your mind blanks to anything aside from him.

"Oui...Oui (yes), George. Je t'appartiens (I belong to you)." you answer, quietly, not quite believing what you're hearing. You belong to him? Please, that's a dream. A very, very, very pleasant dream.

"Good. I don't like seeing other guys flirt with you, and I don't like seeing you so friendly with them back. I like you, y/n. Je t'aime beaucoup (I like you a lot)."

"mon dieu (my god)." You sigh, your knees still weak and the desire to kiss him only intensifying with each passing second.

"You okay, ma lapine (my bunny)?"

"You will be the death of me, george weasley. I like you, too, and merlin I want to kiss you."

He chuckles, the sound melodic to your ears, as he leans closer to you with a smile resting on his lips.

"Yeah? Can you ask me that in French?"

"The death of me, weasley." You sigh, loving the soft chuckle coming from his lips.

"embrasse-moi, s'il te plait." (please kiss me)

"I really love when you speak French, darling." He smiles, a soft groan leaving his throat before he's pressing his lips to yours.

You smile against his lips, not quite believing this is real until he nips at your bottom lip, drawing a soft whine from your body and a blush to your cheeks.

"I really like you, George. I'm so glad we met when we did." You smile, looking up into his beautiful brown eyes once you pull away from the kiss.

"Me too, darling." He agrees, pressing a quick kiss to your lips again before suggesting you go find your friends, or at the very least get out of the halls before a teacher catches the two of you.

You can't help but smile as he slides his hand into yours as you walk, squeezing your hand gently as if he needed the reassurance that you were there and real. You honestly never expected to find a boyfriend when you moved, but you were quite happy with the chain of events that led you here.

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #hp fanfic #hp fluff #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley fluff #french

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thebadboyfanclub · 4 years

Text

Pleasure Is All Mine (Jasper Hale x Reader)

This was requested by @yoloforprez2051 it’s not the longest imagine I’ve written but I’m very happy with it and I hope you are as well. Enjoy!

(Y/n) fell in love with music since she was a baby, her father was a musician so she was born and raised around beautiful melodies and song practicing, meeting different bands and singers that worked with him, it was almost expected from her to be born with some amazing talent that had to do with music. Her talent and passion was singing, her voice was angelic and when her father signed her for some singing lessons she blossomed into this powerhouse that could sing some notes that were considered vocal suicide.Jasper was passing by this small little bar that looked like it was having a special party, it was abnormally filled with people and packed with dancers.

That’s when he heard it, her voice went through his ears and brought goosebumps in his body, that distinguished voice, so smooth and melodic it would make anyone move their body to the beat. However, he found the choice of the song ironic, the talented anonymous girl was singing the infamous song “maria maria” by carlos santana who would probably be extremely proud of this cover if he heard it.

He acted impulsively when he turned around and walked right in the bar, getting baffled by the smell of sweat and blood that was pumping through the peoples veins, yet he couldn’t find it in himself to resist, he had to see who was this girl. As he moved through the crowd he slowly got to take a good look at the singer, if he didn’t know any better he would have swore he was dreaming

.“Hello Sir, would you like a table?”

“Uh yes please, as close to the stage as possible”

“Follow me Sir”

As he followed the hostess he was magnetized by the girl, feeling compelled to keep looking at her, afraid that if he took off his eyes from her she would suddenly disappear. She was wearing this magnificent red silk dress that had two golden spaghetti straps that had a teasing slit down her left thigh leaving her naked flesh on display, her hair was down and cascading down her shoulders, her lips were painted red and her face looked like it was carved by angels, her hands touching the mic stands and mic, hypnotizing the audience with her every move. She couldn’t be human, there was no human that looked so perfect

“Anything to drink Sir?”

“not yet, thank you”

As he sat down he kept admiring the woman that kept singing. Her eyes were holding such fire, the passion she had was running through her, it almost felt inappropriate to watch her, like watching a woman get undressed and getting all blushed and shy, nonetheless you couldn’t stop watching, frozen in place and keeping your eyes to her. He sat there for Gods know how long, she sang so many different songs and he has yet to feel tired, on the contrary he wanted to listen to her for hours on end. Feeling her sense of bliss and sensuality was something he had not felt often in a woman, she was the star of the show and she was very happy about it.

On the other side, (Y/n) had noticed the young man that looked at her intensely, of course she had seen plenty of men look at her like that, but from him it felt different, she wanted to him to look at her like that it was mutual fascination one would say. His dark eyes intrigued her, although she was a fan of dark haired men his dirty blonde hair was exactly what suited him and completed his look and who wouldn’t notice his facial features, those cheekbones and strong jaw made him look like a God.

She rarely did this but something inside her pushed her legs one in front of the other up until she was standing right behind him. She had noticed he was here alone which couldn’t be a better scenario for him to approach him

“May I sit down?”

He was aware she was coming, he had heard her proud walk and strong click clack of her heels from a mile away. He only smiled at her as he got up and pushed back the chair next to him, she was more than surprised by his kind gesture but she didn’t complain of course, she only sat down and whispered a thank you for only him to hear. Her voice was as melodic as her singing, sensual, clear and strong.

“I don’t believe we’ve met, my name is Jasper Hale, pleasure to meet you”

“(Y/f/n) pleasure is all mine”

As he reached to take her hand in his he got a sense of her perfume, she smelled so... delicious. It took every drop of discipline in him to not sink his teeth in her wrist and to just simply give aa gentle kiss on her hand. Right then and there he decided that she was what he was looking for, his mate, his sanctuary

Jasper from that point on chased (y/n) hard, gave her everything he could emotionally and spiritually, she was his mate and he wanted to be by her 24/7. He had even brought his family to one of the shows, Emmett was on of her biggest fans, asking Jasper to take him with him like a little sibling that wants to party with the older one. (Y/n) was a sweet soul, she brought out such a gentle and calming nature out of Jasper, however he was insecure about his past relationship.

Maria haunted him, clouded his thoughts and took over his mind, her poison seeping through him. He remembered all the times he was manipulated by her, told him how much she loved him just to do her dirty work, he was disposable to her, a mere nothing. Sometimes he would even fear if (y/n) was going to be like that as well, hurt him in her own way.

“Jasper, are you alright babe?”

She had gone to take a shower and left him in her room waiting, she loved that damn Carlos Santana song so much she sang it almost every time in the shower. For Jasper it was torture, just the mention of the name brought all those memories and theories to the front of his mind, it was a slow death and the corporate was just his anxiety.

“Yes darling I’m fine”

No he wasn’t, she could see it. Usually when she got out of the shower he would tease her and try to pull the towel off of her freshly washed body, it was this cute little routine they had developed, now he just laid there, doing and looking at absolutely nothing, yet his gaze was intense, like he was having an internal battle. She quickly dried herself and put on a silk short pajama night gown before slipping in her bed and wrapping her legs and arms around him, demanding to be the big spoon.

Jasper could only smirk at her way of calming him, he could never hide from her when he was upset or sad, even though he was the ne that could feel others emotions. As they laid together Jasper could smell her favorite body wash, the smell of raspberry slipping through his nose, bring a wave of comfort and familiarity as her hot skin touched his cold body. Her hand quickly found her way through his hair, she always loved to do that, it was like he was in heave when she was there.

“ There was a woman

Born from a lotus

Her heart was golden

Deep as the ocean

And then this one man

He came and broke it

'Til it was open

Just like a lotus”

It was her go to song to sing to him when he was sad, Jhene aiko was one of her favorite artist and he enjoyed her songs as well, they were very soothing and calming so he never complained, one his first memories with her was coming over in the morning and finding her cooking with just a shirt on while Jhene’s songs played around the house.

As she kept holding him tight his mind slowly got rid of all those dark thoughts and replaced it with thoughts about (y/n), how she made him happy, how much her hair has grown, how her skin felt so smooth and soft under his touch, how her voice made his breathing slow and deep.

Once she felt him relax and calm down she leaned in to place a kiss on his lips to which he responded, his hands finding her face and bringing her closer to him, feeling any type of space they had- if they had- She smiled during that kiss, happy that he was back to being himself and completely relaxed, she almost felt accomplished that she could be his source of stress relief.

“Thank you darling”

“Don’t mention it, are you feeling better?”

“I’m feeling like I’m in... what had you called it? Nirvana?”

She giggled at him as he kissed her one more time. She loved this intimate moments, they were just two people in the comfort of her home where they had 100% privacy and be intimate and vulnerable. She settled in close to him and placed her head on shoulder, hiding her face on his neck, she always liked to nuzzle there, take in his sense and enjoy the silence

“I’m really glad you��re here, it was starting to get lonely in this apartment”

“Oh dear trust me, It almost felt like I was alone for decades before I met you”

“Stop with the corny vampire jokes”

“Oh come on that was a good one, even Rose liked that one”

#jasper hale imagine #jasper hale x you #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale oneshot #jasper hale x y/n #jasper hale x oc #twilight imagines #twilight one shot #twilight headcanon #twilight x reader #twilight #jasper hale #jasper whitlock imagine #jasper whitlock #jasper whitlock x reader #cullen #cullen romance

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funtimebunnyblog · 3 years

Note

How do you think the pillar men would react to a s/o who’s pretty innocent and a loveable ray of sunshine? Just the sweetest soul ever. Never having any ill intentions towards anyone ever, even if they’re mean to her. S/o has a lot of empathy and is just Disney princess level of kindness and nurturing. Sorry if that’s specific. I just always love the trope for couple that are opposites attract.

Did you mean: H O L L Y K U J O ???

Holly: Jotaro, make sure you eat all your vegetables 🥰 Jotaro: *is about to tell her to F*** off* All 4 of his new Pillarmen step-dads: 😡😡😡😡 Jotaro: *sweating* Yes Mom... 😰

I agree, dear Anon, I'm a bit of a sucker for big intimidating Pillarmen with a sweet little mate ❤❤❤ I'm even more of a sucker for writing it! 🥰😇😘 Please enjoy!

The Pillarmen (separate) with a sweet and nurturing s/o...

(Under the cut for length!)

Kars:

• From the moment he first met you, your kindness was baffling to Kars.

• Even before you two had begun a proper relationship, he took notice that you were always dotting on him.

• Sometimes when he was up in his study, spending hours at his desk as he worked away at piles of paperwork, you would pop in to check up on him every so often with a mug of tea for him in hand; brewed hot and black with no sugar, just the way he liked it.

• Somehow you just always knew what he liked and how he liked it.

• You often brung along a comfortable blanket to drape over his shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to his temple as you asked him if he needed anything else and encouraged him to take a break if and when he needed it.

• Nothing prompted you do do these things, he never once asked you for anything really, but it seemed as if you went out of your way to show a little kindness every time.

• Kars knew himself to be a cold creature but you were a person who made his frosty heart thaw with the warmth you radiated.

• As a man who considered nature precious life, he found himself admiring how unbelievably good you were with Animals.

• In fact, they just seemed to flock to you!

• Once, when you both went to an Animal shelter to look for a pet to adopt, Kars turned his back for only a minute and came back to find that you had somehow coaxed the meanest and mangiest old cat there into your lap.

• The shelter workers stood there absolutely gobsmacked as they watched the animal, that had scratched and hissed at and bitten anyone and everyone who had even dared to come near it, cuddling in your arms and purring like a kitten.

• "Aren't you just the sweetest thing?~" You giggled, lovingly running a hand on the cats bristly old fur as it rumbled contently, its purr was like a running motor. "What a pretty kitty you are!"

• Kars could only smile softly to himself as you both left the shelter that day with the mean old cat you were still lovingly cradling in your arms.

• He had to admit, even though he was thousands of years old and an Ultimate lifeform; you somehow felt like you were much higher above him, like a benevolent and virtuous Queen.

Esidisi:

• Your sweet and motherly nature was the very first thing to make Esidisi absolutely head over heals for you.

• There were times you made his heart swell to the point of it hurting when he watched you waltz around the house, singing a happy tune as you did chores or cooked.

• Even though you knew he didn't necessarily need to eat, you always questioned if he was hungry and offered to make him food.

• And it was always delicious homemade food at that!

• You absolutely brought life to every room you passed through and it pulsed through everything you made.

• It was as if everything you touched left behind a little magic in his eyes.

• Once, when you two were still in the stages of getting to know one another, you happened to witness him have one of his crying fits for the first time.

• Esidisi had been very stressed that day and of course, it all overwhelmed him and came out in a flood of tears.

• Immediately, you dropped the laundry you were folding the second you heard him start to sob from the other room and ran to see what was going on.

• "Oh my goodness, what happened?" You questioned, coming towards him quickly.

• Even through his barrage of tears, he didn't miss the genuine concern in your voice and the worry etched into your face as you lowered yourself on your knees in front of him, taking his tearstreaked face gently into your hands.

• "Do you need a hug? We can hug!" You told him, opening your arms to him with no hesitation whatsoever as he struggled to get an explanation out through his bawling.

• The way you rubbed his back, crooning for him to take deep breaths, was something that would stay with him forever as usually people tended to just stand back and gawk at him when he was having a meltdown.

• You hardly even knew him and there you were, comforting him and letting him cry all over you as if you had known him your whole life!

• Each time he spent his evenings with his arms wrapped around you as you cooked supper, both of you singing, he was honestly starting to think he had fallen in love with a Goddess in disguise.

Wamuu:

• You were the only person in the world who could make Wamuu, the greatest and fiercest warrior who ever lived, turn into a shy and blushing mess.

• The way you gently touched his arm and smiled up into his face as you spoke to him, asking him if he was hungry or tired after a long day of training, never failed to make this hardened Pillarman turn to mush.

• Your voice was like music to his ears, as if your words always held a secret song.

• When you did things for him, no matter how small on your part, he could always tell it was done purely out of love.

• "I thought you would get cold going out this time of year, so I made you a scarf and mittens!" You said with a smile, presenting him with the hand-knitted treasures one cold winters day when he was getting ready to leave the house.

• Wamuu was never a person to wear clothes at all. In fact, he would never be cold or hot or uncomfortable in any climate in the slightest being an Ultimate lifeform.

• But still, he stared at the folded scarf and mitts with wide eyes, holding them in his hands like one would a baby bird.

• He had seen you knitting on the couch these past few nights, smiling softly to yourself as you hummed and put love in every stitch. He had honestly thought nothing of it at the time but now it all made sense.

• You had spent all your free time making these... just for him?

• From that moment on, whenever he and the other Pillarmen went outside in the snow (doing God-knows-what), you can bet that he was wearing that scarf and mittens.

• With nothing else but his loincloth, of course.

• When the others questioned him as to why he was wearing such ridiculous attire when he had no need for them, he simply stood there with his head held high; his scarf swaying in the wind as he clenched his mittened hands into fists at his sides.

• "With all due respect my Masters; my beloved bride made these for me." He said calmly, the corners of his lips quirking into a soft smile as their expressions morphed into ones of disbelief. "And believe me when I say that I cherish them as much as I cherish her."

• The warrior actually felt a little boost in his pride seeing the little gleam of jealousy in his companions' eyes at his words.

• It only fed his little ego more when he showed up one day with a new knitted hat with a fuzzy pom-pom on top and Esidisi actually cried and asked if you could make one for him too.

Santana:

• Santana had always rightfully believed that all Humans were the same; loud, annoying, primitive, cruel, dangerous...

• That was until he fell in love with you of course.

• You were a kind of Human he wasn't aware existed, a very soft and loving kind.

• You just seemed to radiate feelings that touched his very soul; like a bouncy ball of sunshine.

• If anyone had ever done something even borderline disrespectful to Santana, he wouldn't put hesitate them in their rightful place (in his stomach that was) but you on the other hand; you always brushed any rude behavior from another off with a smile.

• Always curious, Santana often found himself hanging around in the background, watching you carry out your housework routine.

• You didn't mind this of course, you always assured him that you liked his company.

• Sometimes you even lovingly referred to him as your shadow.

• "Would you like to help, Santana sweetie?" You asked him with a smile as you peered over your shoulder; you were rolling out and cutting homemade cookie dough to bake.

• He noticed you were always so patient, praising him for the littlest things; guiding his hands with the rolling pin, showing him how to flour the cutter and carefully peel away the outline of the shapes.

• "A star for my star," you beamed, holding up a warm star shaped sugar cookie for him to take when you had pulled them from the oven.

• He blinked as you waved the freshly baked cookie in his face, taking it carefully.

• A little smile curled around the pastry when you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, thanking him for his help.

• You and only you could make him feel tingles from the insides out.

• One of his most favourite routines with you was when you sat on the couch on your phone or watching T.V at night; where you'd invite him to lay his head in your lap.

• Your melodic voice could only be compared to a Princess', your little fingers combing out the tangles of his thick red hair as you hummed to him or talked to him about his day before he was lulled to sleep by it all.

• Your sweetness, your warmth, your empathy; it gave him a hope for Humanity he never had before he met you...

#funnybunny #pillarmen #pillarmen headcanons #kars #esidisi #wamuu #santana #kars x reader #esidisi x reader #wamuu x reader #santana x reader #anon ask #my writing

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itjazzbicch · 3 years

Text

Guardian Angel

Pairing: Sammy Guevara x Fem Reader

Summary: The reader was dating MJF and they always had a rocky relationship, MJF being the main cause by mistreating her terribly. Whenever MJF joined the Inner Circle, the reader came along with him, but their relationship never changed. Sammy was the only person in the group who made an effort to be by the readers' side and when Sammy leaves the Inner Circle, the reader wants to go with him, Sammy showing his true feelings whenever Max crosses the line...

Warnings: When I tell y'all that MJF treats the reader like crap, that relly happens and it gets serious. There’s a little fighting in there, some degradation, also swearing because I cuss like a sailor (LOL I’m sorry)

Requested by: anon (whoever you are, I hope you enjoy!)

Word Count: 4799

Tag List: @demonqueen29 @jessiebean00 @new-zealand-chic @crowleysqueenofhell @justamess44 @thatpanpal @hungmanhorsecarriage @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @linziland13 @yungbludjazz360

I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF

“Look, tonight is a big night,” Jericho said to us all in the locker room, “We have been going through a lot, but we’re the inner circle! We will get through this and continue to be the badasses that we are!”

Everything was a lot different since MJF joined the Inner Circle and as his girlfriend, I came along with him. Our relationship was already a little rocky and whenever he joined the Inner Circle, it got even worse. It was like he turned into an evil villain who treated his minions like shit. Sadly, I was the minion.

Almost always, I didn’t speak whenever it came to their business, this time was no different.

“Max, we got a match! Let’s go kick some ass,” Jericho smirked at Max, all of us beginning to head out.

“Has anyone seen, Sammy? Since we’re heading out?” Santana asked, all of us just looking confused. I saw Sammy earlier today, but he hasn’t been around much. Especially since Max tried pulling a fast one on him, making it look like Sammy trying to defend himself was him just viciously assaulting Max.

“We don’t have time for that idiot,” Max snickered, standing up and fixing his scarf.

We all just remained silent and headed out for the match. Usually, I always went out to the ring with Max, but I just let them leave, following behind the pack and halfway down the hall, I was able to catch up with Max, just trying to be supportive by holding his hand.

Quickly, he snatched his hand away, groaning and it made all of them stop and look at us.

“Guys, just give me a second,” Max smiled at Jericho and the guys, but that attitude completely changing whenever he turned back to me, groaning, “You know how important tonight is and you’re trying to distract me?”

Max could literally care less about causing a scene but I hated it, saying quietly, “Max, I’m just trying to support you.”

“I don’t need support! As a matter of fact, your ass can stay back here! All you do is stand around and look stupid!” Max groaned, and I was so embarrassed, all of them staring at us and with tears in my eyes, I just turned around and walked away, it became harder to fight the tears when I heard Max say, “That’s exactly what I thought.”

I’m sure everyone could hear my feet stomping. I just wanted to get to my locker room. Anger, sadness, heartbreak. It was all consuming me like fire and Max always made that hard to contain.

For a moment, I wasn’t even paying attention while walking, looking to the floor and wiping away a tear, my vision blurry from it and that’s when I knocked into someone.

“Jesus, I’m sorry!” I cried, but when I looked up, I realized it was Sammy.

“Y/N,” Sammy sighed, becoming concerned when he looked down, seeing me crying, “Why are you crying?”

“What do you think?” I whispered, looking down to the ground.

The only good thing about joining the Inner Circle was Sammy. Anytime Max tried to ruin my mood or just treat me like straight-up trash, the rest of the guys would just stay silent. Sammy was the only one who made an effort and always tried to cheer me up, it worked almost always.

I could see the anger in his eyes, he knew it was because of Max and I just completely opened up, clenching my fists when I told him:

“I swear, I’m so sick of crying and being so fucking angry over him!”

Without any words, Sammy just hugged me. I don’t remember the last time I got such a comforting hug. He didn’t even have to tell me, but something in his hug explained to me that things would get better, Sammy actually confirming that when he whispered to me:

“Tonight, things are going to change, Y/N.”

“I sure hope so,” I whispered back, “Something needs to change.”

“Come on,” Sammy sighed, standing up straight, “We can go to catering real quick and get us something and relax for a bit. How does that sound?”

“I’m down,” I smiled, through my tears, appreciating his kindness, that growing when he wiped away one of my tears and wrapped his arm around me.

I was just so thankful. Sammy sure did raise my spirits, the both of us just hanging out backstage, but when Max and Jericho’s match was beginning to wrap up, I could tell by the way Sammy was watching in the locker room, something was up.

“I really hate to leave,” Sammy sighed, looking into my eyes, “But I have to go out there.”

“Take care of business, Sammy,” I smirked, having a good feeling about what was going to happen.

“I will,” Sammy assured, rushing out of the locker room.

It didn’t take much longer for the match to end and I just watched it in silence, finally becoming interested whenever I heard Sammy’s music hit. Everyone was cheering for him, but as of Jericho and the rest of the Inner Circle, they had some words for Sammy, questioning, but Sammy kept it simple, saying:

“I told you. One more thing with him,” pointing at Max, “I’m done.”

“What are you talking about?” Jericho exclaimed, trying to avoid it but we all knew what was about to happen.

“I’m leaving,” Sammy said loud and clear, “I quit the Inner Circle.”

Everyone was gasping, but I was back there pissed off. They all had a true friendship till Max came and tainted it. Max was even smiling in Sammy’s face, but I could tell Sammy wasn’t allowing him to get the better of him, just leaving them in the ring.

Sadly, Sammy didn’t come back to my locker room. I was really worried about him and I needed to find him and now. Thinking on my feet, I called Fuego. Sammy didn’t answer his phone and I had Fuego’s because we were always filming stuff for the vlog.

“Fuego, I’m sorry that this is very unexpected and quick, but please tell me you know where Sammy is,” I said quickly.

“Yeah, he’s actually getting his stuff now to head out,” Fuego informed me and I just rushed to say, “Okay, thank you. Tell him that I really need to talk to him.”

Right after I hung up the phone, I got up, grabbed my purse, the only thing I brought to the arena, and headed out, trying to get to Sammy, but of course, I just had to run into a roadblock.

That roadblock was Max.

“Hey! Where the hell are you going!?” Max yelled at me, beginning to approach me. The angry sound of his voice and the way he was yelling, it made me snap.

“That’s none of your business,” I groaned, beginning to walk away, but he grabbed me by the wrist, flinging me around and my purse fell, cracking on the floor.

“Actually, it is my damn business!” Max yelled, “I am so-“

“No, I’m sick of you! You always treat me like I’m nothing! But when you were nothing, who was there for you?” I snapped back, everyone watching, “It wasn’t Jericho! It wasn’t Wardlow. Not Cody! No one but me! Even when you treat me like shit, I still tried to be there for you!”

Everyone was noticing how I was right, Max becoming embarrassed, pulling me close, growling at me, “Okay. You had your fifteen seconds of fame. Now, you’re coming with me and I’m not going to repeat myself.”

I just pissed Max off even more, laughing in his face, whispering, “I’m done being your punching bag. We’re done, Max.”

Slowly, I tried walking away, but he took me by both arms, yelling, “What the hell did I tell you!”

I literally couldn’t believe that everyone was just standing there watching, but then I felt someone push me away. I about fell over, but I had never been happier whenever I saw Sammy jump on top of Max, unloading on him.

Sammy definitely lost his shit, just pounding the hell out of Max, just about punching his face in. Of course, Max fought back, trying to keep it going. It took about every man backstage to keep them apart, like two wild dogs in a fight.

“Disrespect her again and I will fucking end you!” Sammy yelled, trying to break free from everyone who was holding him back.

Max finally stopped for a moment, still being held back and laughing, nodding his head.

“I see now. It’s because of him, isn’t it Y/N!” Max yelled, “I fucking knew it. You good for nothing whore!”

I had never been so disgusted, pissed off, and embarrassed. I had never seen such rage in Sammy’s eyes, but with the way everyone was staring at me, I knew it was a lot worse on my end.

Max looked up at me in complete shock, everyone just stopped what they were doing, listening and my voice made them jump out of their skin when I yelled at the top of my lungs:

“You don’t know how many times I cried because of you! You never appreciated how I did everything for you! And you just disrespect me! Just put your hands on me! I am done with you! And if you think I’ll ever come back, don’t hold your breath, because if you do, you’ll die! I wouldn’t come back to you if you were the last man on earth, you bitch!”

Everyone let their guard down whenever I unloaded on Him. Max was just staring at me in shock, not paying attention and everyone got rowdy again whenever Sammy super kicked him in the face.

“I told you, don’t you disrespect her!” Sammy yelled, everyone taking Sammy and turning him around.

After that, I grabbed my purse and walked away. I felt like I was literally going to explode like a bomb and if everyone thought what I did was crazy, they only knew the tip of the iceberg. Thank goodness I went to my car next because I wanted to get the hell out of there.

I was almost to my car, but I heard: “Y/N!”

Slowly, I turned to see Sammy, running like hell and when he got to me, we clashed into a big hug. When I was in his arms, I couldn’t help but cry. Tonight ended up being way crazier than I expected and not in a good way, but while Sammy was hugging me, I knew everything was going to be alright, feeling that Sammy was the only one who cared about me anymore.

“Please tell me he didn’t really hurt you,” Sammy sighed, looking down at my arms.

Max had me by the wrists and arms so tight, you could still see his handprints, small bruises forming on my arm already.

I looked down to my arms too and I sighed, “I can’t believe he actually did that.”

Out of anger, I kicked my car, but Sammy pulled me back, saying quickly, “Y/N, I promise, you’re never going to have to worry about him again. Please believe me, I just beat his ass for a damn good reason.”

When I took the time to look at Sammy, I could see all the red marks on him way up to his face. His hat was gone and his hair was a mess, shirt ripped and all. Sammy truly had my back and when I looked at how he was, I felt horrible.

“This is all my fault!” I cried, “I was so stupid and didn’t get away from him. I should have done it forever ago.”

“No, Y/N. Don’t blame yourself,” Sammy pleaded, “Like you said, you gave him your all and in return, he was just a piece of shit. That’s all he is and all he will ever be. He deserved to get his ass kicked for what he did.”

There was another moment of silence and even Sammy was getting emotional, seeing his eyes get teary, just as angry and upset as me, explaining:

“You have no idea how incredibly painful it was to watch him sabotage the one great thing I had, treat you like that whenever you deserve the best. You are literally an angel walking on earth!”

Sammy was still emotional, losing his train of thought and truly speaking his mind, adding:

“I was just heading out of my locker room with Fuego and I heard yelling. That’s when we noticed it was him and when I saw him snatch you up like he did, I just, I lost it. I’ll be damned if I let someone treat my girl like that!”

I don’t think Sammy realized what he said. We both just froze and I just began to smile, fighting through the tears and again, I lost control, arms wrapping around his neck when I hugged him and just kissed him.

My brain raced through all of my memories and I don’t even remember the last time I kissed someone and Sammy quickly melted into our kiss, arms wrapping around me tightly, kissing me with so much passion and intensity that it made me light-headed, but it was definitely the best moment that I have had in such a long time.

When our lips finally parted, we both gasped hard; Sammy looking down into my eyes, both of us just smiling, finally having a true, pure smile on our faces, feeling happiness in what felt like forever.

“Tonight was beyond stressful,” Sammy whispered, “Let’s get out of here.”

Quickly I nodded my head, whispering, “Please?”

Sammy nodded his head right back and I just handed him my keys, but we both stopped whenever we heard Fuego’s voice, “Yo! Sammy!”

Fuego actually had Sammy’s stuff and Santana and Ortiz were right behind him.

“Y/N, get in the car,” Sammy whispered and I didn’t protest at all, getting in the passenger side, in there shaking because I knew more drama was coming, listening when I heard Santana say:

“Man, things don’t got to be this way!”

“No, it does have to be this way!” Sammy groaned, “Y'all might be too stupid to realize it, but that asshole is trying to ruin us all! Look at what he just did!”

They all fell silent and Sammy just shook his head, sighing, “You know I love y’all, but I have to do what’s right. What Max did to me, what he just did to Y/N, what he’s trying to do to all of us! It’s not right and you both know it.”

Sammy took his things from Fuego, putting them in the back seat and Fuego actually put a smile on my face when I saw him hug Sammy and say:

“Good job whooping that mofo’s ass, man.”

“I’ll see you later, man,” Sammy sighed, getting in the car, starting the engine.

I just sat there, ready to go and Sammy began to drive off, taking us to the hotel and when we got there, I was still sitting there with my head down low, and there was actually a lot of silence when we got up to our room. I went and took a shower to try and relax. It helped a little but I was still recovering from everything from tonight. It was just so overwhelming and hard to process all at one time.

Whenever I was done, I just threw on shorts and a t-shirt, drying my hair with a towel, and sitting on the end of the bed. I let out a deep breath when I was done, I just sat there but then Sammy sat next to me, getting all of my attention when he took my hand, holding it.

“I know tonight was crazy, but earlier, when I told you things are going to change. They are changing and for the better,” Sammy sighed, “And please know, as long as you’re with me, nothing like that will ever happen again. You’ll never have to deal with an asshole like him again.”

“You said earlier that I was an angel walking on earth,” I whispered, smiling when I looked up to him, saying, “You’re the Angel, Sammy.”

“I’ll be your guardian angel,” Sammy smiled back, smiling so hard it made me laugh a bit, and then I started yawning.

Sammy looked behind me to see the clock, seeing how late it was.

“How about we call it a night, we both need the sleep,” Sammy suggested and I was right there with him.

I yawned again, just nodding my head, getting into bed while Sammy went and turned off the lights. After a long time, I went to bed feeling relaxed and at peace, but my heart racing whenever Sammy got into bed, laying on his side and holding his arms open, inviting me into his arms.

I was a bit hesitant at first because I actually haven’t been held or cuddled in quite some time, but I went into his arms. His embrace was so relaxing, the warmth of his body easing and getting rid of all the bad feelings. I never felt so safe in anyone’s arms and before I knew it, I was off to sleep.

For about two weeks, we took a hiatus and it was desperately needed. I spent almost the entire time with Sammy and it was so much fun.

I did have some troubles though. Even when I ignored the living hell out of Max. His number was blocked in my phone, blocked from all my social media’s, literally everything because he wouldn’t stop messaging me, trying to get me to come back.

He was truly an idiot because I wasn’t coming back. Not back to him. Never again.

But Sammy and I did go back to Dynamite. The Inner Circle were having a council after everything that happened and while they were out in the ring, Sammy and I were backstage.

“Just know, things may get crazy out there. You’re staying by my side,” Sammy told me while on our way to the guerrilla, holding my hand.

He was so protective of me already and in a good way, which I appreciated. It was already a good night and even though we had some serious issues to address, he was still making sure I was happy.

I was wearing his leather jacket, we were matching and he even gave me his hat. Max and the rest of the inner circle just staring at us when we walked on stage.

It looked like Max was about to burst into flames when he saw Sammy and me together. I found it hilarious, but it didn’t take much longer for things to start boiling up.

“What did I tell you, Sammy?” Chris groaned, “You’re dead to me! You just left us! I never wanna see you again!”

Sammy was trying to speak but Chris just wouldn’t shut up then silence fell, everyone shutting up when Sammy yelled:

“Chris! Just shut up and listen!!”

Finally, Chris was paying attention, listening to Sammy when he continued:

“I don’t even have much to say to you, Chris, but there’s something that you need to see. Show you the truth that I knew this entire time!”

We all looked up to the Titantron, a video showing a camera that Sammy hid in the Inner Circle’s locker room.

Soon after, Max, Jake, Santana, and Ortiz were in the locker room, Max leading as he said:

“I think we can all agree. The true reason why the Inner Circle hasn’t reached its glory is because of Chris. Tonight’s the night that we put that old dog to sleep and I am taking over.”

Sammy ended the clip at that, all of us watching closely when Chris turned to Max, ready to rip his head off. The guys also trying to close in on him.

“I told you from the beginning! He is trying to ruin us! And Max, tonight, you’re getting a taste of your own medicine,” Sammy began, but being interrupted by Max.

“Look Sammy, we all know that you edited that and you’re trying to ruin me! Like, you have my baby girl on stage with you. Y/N, you know I love you! Just come here!” Max pleaded, trying to be all innocent, but it made us laugh.

“Oh, you love her? She’s your baby girl? Then why did you do this to her, Max?” Sammy said, almost ready to beat him up again.

Only the people backstage saw what happened between Max and I, everyone else curious as to why I was with Sammy now, but little did they all know, what happened was caught on video by a bystander, Sammy showing that clip.

Truthfully, it hurt to see it in third person, just as bad as when it happened before my eyes. Max’s yelling, how he snatched me like he did, calling me a whore and it left the crowd shocked, all of them gasping and all of them ready to storm the ring and beat up Max for themselves.

Max had no comeback this time and I watched Sammy, a smile growing on my face whenever he got emotional, almost yelling when he said:

“Is that how you treat someone that you, “love”? You put your damn hands on her! Have been treating her like trash for as long as I can remember! Then you want to act like you’re innocent, claiming that you love her and wanna be all sweet like you did nothing wrong?”

There was just silence and I could see Sammy shaking a little but his voice becoming calmer while he said:

“You don’t deserve her. You never did and you’re lucky I didn’t put you in the hospital that night when I beat your ass. Y/N is an Angel walking on earth, who deserves the best and I am going to be the one who gives that to her.”

It caught me off guard a little from how fast Sammy pulled me into his arms, kissing me. I kissed him back even quicker than he kissed me, feeling him smile against our kiss, both of us turning to see how pissed off Max was.

Max actually tried to storm towards us, but Santana and Ortiz quickly jumped in front of him, Ortiz calling for Sammy’s microphone.

“Sammy was right all along and I knew you had some kind of trick up your sleeve. You tried taking everything we busted our asses for, made our brother leave us,” Ortiz began, Santana finishing with:

“That night, when you showed your true colors, showing how you’re a true monster. Don’t think we forgot. Sammy beat me to the punch, quite literally, bashing your face in, but you ain’t off the hook just yet.”

All of them had Max in a circle, Chris making the first move whenever he hit him with his bat. They all tried storming him, but Max rolled out of the ring. Sammy tried cutting him off, but that slippery little coward got away.

They were all in the ring, ready for a fight, but I was able to make things peaceful, getting in the ring, taking Sammy’s hand.

“Sammy, he’s not worth it,” I sighed, trying to calm him down and thankfully, it worked.

Sammy had his arm wrapped around me, all of us at the ropes, watching Max run away, trying to talk smack while making it through the stands.

“Fuck this dude,” Jake groaned, giving him the middle finger, and then we all gave him the middle finger. It was a great feeling for sure and the Inner Circle was reunited and I was grateful to be a part of it.

After that intense moment, we were all at peace, happy while we were making it backstage. Chris wanted to celebrate, going off with Sammy and it was more like a reunion for them, they were super close after all.

I was just hanging with the guys in the locker room, intrigued when Santana, Ortiz, and Jake all sat down around me.

“Y/N,” Ortiz began, “I’m sure when Chris comes back, he will tell you the same thing, but we wanted to tell you now that we’re sorry.”

At first, I was a bit confused but I sat there and paid attention, Santana explaining:

“I know Sammy always had your back before all this shit went down, but we should have stepped up too.”

“As husbands and fathers, we would never let anyone hurt our girls. Whether if it’s verbally or physically,” Jake sighed, “If someone did that to my wife or my little girl, I can’t even describe the things I’d do to them.

“Unlike Max, we knew that you were loyal. You proved that by not only being there for us but still trying to be there for him even when he treated you like garbage,” Ortiz pointed out, “And like Jake said, if someone did that to our girls, we’d lose our shit and we didn’t take care of him like we should have.”

“And for that, we’re sorry,” Santana murmured, showing deep emotion, “Just know, you’re like family to us and I dare that boy to try to even speak to you again.”

With a deep breath, I actually smiled at all of them, smiling:

“I appreciate you guys. I really do. I accept your apology but at the same time, don’t be sorry. Sometimes we have to learn lessons the hard way and that was the case with Max. That kind of stuff was going on long before he joined the Inner Circle. I’m sorry to you guys that I didn’t try and stop it.”

“Enough with being sorry,” Santana smiled at me, “I think we all agree, you’re like a sister to us. Well, a sister-in-law if you are gonna be with Sammy.”

His comment made us all laugh, the smile on my face growing whenever Ortiz said:

“Things are going to be a lot better from here out. . Better for all of us, especially you. If you stay with Sammy, I know he’s going to treat you like a queen and make you happy. That’s exactly what you deserve.”

“That night all that stuff happened, when Sammy and I were alone, he called me an Angel. I told him the same thing but he told me, he’s my guardian Angel. No one has ever done anything like that for me,” I professed, “Sammy, he freed me and now I know what it’s like to be happy, and seeing you guys handling Max like that, it sealed the deal. I know that not only am I going to be happy with Sammy, but with all of you too. Like you guys said, we’re a family.”

“Damn right,” Jake smiled, pulling us in for a group hug and I kindly accepted it, Santana making me laugh while we were hugging by saying:

“Sammy’s right though. You must be some kind of angel because if I were you, I would’ve whooped that boy's ass forever ago.”

We all broke out in laughs, but it started to die down whenever we heard the door open, Chris and Sammy returning.

“You guys are having a group hug without us?!” Chris exclaimed, but laughing along with us, making Sammy join the hug too.

This is exactly what I needed, people I could be around and not be scared to speak or just be myself. I finally felt at peace, all thanks to Sammy.

Afterward, we all got some good food in our system, enjoyed the rest of the show, and just goofed off, having a blast with one another, but time sure did fly, soon, it was time to pack things up.

Most of the guys were heading out and I was still in the locker room, picking up the pace when Sammy came back, saying:

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah, getting my bag now,” I sighed, now ready to go, but Sammy approached me, murmuring:

“You know, seeing you with the guys, that was emotional huh?”

“They actually apologized to me,” I explained, still processing it myself, “But like you said, things are changing for the better and they sure loved it when I told them my guardian Angel came and saved the day.”

My comment actually made Sammy blush, pulling me into his sweet embrace, whispering to me, “All of that negativity we had to deal with is gone and now, we can all be happy. Especially me and you.”

Sammy’s smile was very contagious and I expressed how I appreciated him with a soft kiss, whispering, “We’ll be happier than ever.”

#wrestling #wrestling imagine #wrestling fic #aew #aew imagine #aew fic #sammy guevara #sammy guevara fic #sammy guevara imagine #request #read and enjoy

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palettes-and-prompts · 3 years

Note

Could I get prompts for Smooth by Santana? It's my biggest comfort song right now so I think that'd be fun to get prompts for

Sure thing!

1) "Buy me a drink." "You could say please." "I could, couldn't I?"

2) "I like watching you dance." "I like watching you watch me."

3) "I want you so bad right now." "I know. You've had that desperate look in your eyes for a while now."

4) "I know they're hot but your drooling is starting to scare off the customers."

5) "They're cute, it's a shame they're a criminal."

6) "They're stealing your car!" "They always do. Don't worry, they'll leave it just outside town, I'll report it stolen when I know they've crossed they county line. They love a head start anyway."

7) "Wow, you're really good with your hands. Working on cars I mean." "I'd hope so, I'm a mechanic." "Are your hands good at doing other things?" "Would you like to find out?"

8) "You can't run from the law forever." "But it's nice having such an attractive agent try to chase me."

9) "You're very forward." "Does that intimidate you?" "I quite like it actually."

10) "Are you just going to stand there and watch me take my clothes off or are you going to come over and do it for me?"

1) Person A is a cat burglar and Person B is a safe cracking thief who meet when trying to steal the same thing. Over the years they keep meeting and stealing things before the other can even get it. They frustrate each other but are also impressed with the other's skills. They decide to exchange numbers, informing the other of what they're going after before the go after it so they don't keep stealing the other's item. After going back and forth they decide to go on one job together. When they get away with it and make more money than ever they decide to continue their partnership and slowly develop feelings along the way.

2) Person A is a detective with a criminal background, but because they're so good at what they do they're able to catch criminals easily. When there's a string of murders, Person A is partnered with Person B to help speed up the case. The two don't get along at first but as they work through cases together and have deeper conversations they realize they have more in common than they thought and end up liking each other more than partners should. But when the murderer turns out to be someone from A's past their relationship gets a little more complicated, especially when the someone from A's past turns out to be an old flame.

3) After A's dumped they go out to a bar and hook up with the first person they find, Person B. The next morning the two end up getting breakfast together since they didn't mind the other's company. During breakfast Person A's ex, Person C, shows up. B, without being told begins to pretend to be A's new lover, thinking that's what A wanted. Person C makes awkward small talk before asking who B is. B explains that they've been together for a few months. Person C is shocked but B happily explains that A finally stopped seeing their ex and that now they get them to themselves. When C asks to speak with A alone, B makes up a reason why they both can't stay. Trapped in a lie the two end up getting invited to gatherings here and there by C. To keep up appearances both of them must learn more about each other to be a believable couple. Despite faking the relationship, the feelings that blossom between them are getting more and more real for each other and neither knows how to bring it up.

4) Person A is rich and Person B's their hot mechanic they meet once and decide to keep coming to. A keeps damaging their car on purpose to bring it to B, who's incredibly aware of what A's doing. Despite this, they pretend they've got no clue because they like seeing how flustered A gets when they work on their car for them.

5) Person A's a grifter and Person B's a detective who's been trying to catch them over the years. The two are incredibly attracted to one another but also dedicated to their lines of work so never act on it no matter how many opportunities life throws at them. When another detective, Person C, is assigned to help with the case B doesn't like it. When Person C catches A on the first try, A flirts with them heavily to buy time to escape. Not realizing this is why, Person B finds themselves incredibly jealous thinking A's serious about what they say until A's escaping. The next time they see each other Person B admits they've got feelings for A and that those feelings get in the way of their job. When they explain they're going to leave the case, Person A suggests they stop being a detective and work as a grifter instead.

#prompts #writer #writing #prompts based on songs #song prompts #write #lightly nasty #writing prompts

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wheresmynaya · 3 years

Text

Hate to Date Ch.6 | Brittana

A/N - Exciting news, we're out of lockdown and I'm back to work. Not exciting news, I’m back to work LOL. As always, thanks for the reviews and those who have bought a coffee for me through ko-fi! Both instantly make my day & encourage me to keep up with these weekly updates so I really appreciate it!💙

Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) & under the cut!

It takes a whole ten seconds after Brittany closes the car door behind her before Puck’s hitting Santana with a barrage of questions. Santana does her best to ignore them because she knows Puck’s been dying to hear about their trip, but Brittany hasn’t even pulled her suitcase from the trunk yet and she can totally hear them still.

“Aren’t you going to help her or something?” Santana asks instead.

“Aren’t you? You’re her girlfriend.”

“You’re the guy. Isn’t lifting things meant to be your specialty?”

Puck narrows his eyes, “That’s not very girl power of you.”

Santana just huffs her way out of the car, but by the time she gets around Brittany’s already got her suitcase out. The blonde gives her a questioning look as Santana lingers by the trunk.

“I was coming to see if you needed help,” Santana explains.

Brittany chuckles, “Little late for that.”

Santana feels her face flush with embarrassment. Damn Puck making her look like an idiot.

“Besides, I’ve seen how you are around a suitcase,” Brittany smirks. “Probably best if I do the heavy lifting.”

“Nice one!” Puck calls out.

When Santana turns to flick him off, she finds that he’s halfway hanging out of the driver’s side window watching with interest. Brittany only laughs as she pulls the handle up on her luggage.

“You’re both dicks,” Santana grumbles as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“I mean, she’s not wrong though?” Puck reasons.

Santana just cuts him with a steely glare and that shuts him up real quick.

“Anyway, it’s been fun. Thanks for the ride again, Puck,” Brittany says before turning to Santana. “And I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Santana nods, “Yeah. Same time, same place.”

“I’ll remember you said that,” Brittany quips before waving goodbye and heading inside her apartment complex.

Puck’s still hanging out the driver’s side window looking back and forth between Santana and Brittany’s door with a slack jaw. Santana rolls her eyes at him as she pulls open the passenger door.

“What’s happening tomorrow?” He asks eagerly.

Santana sighs, “Can you just get in the car? You’re too damn big to be hanging out there like that.”

The reluctance to answer has Puck acting even more giddy. It’s a classic Santana tactic: deflect and insult. Puck listens anyway though and gets himself inside where Santana busies herself with buckling up.

“So what’s happening tomorrow?” Puck asks again.

“We’re working on that assignment together for Prof Martinez’s class,” Santana finally answers. “Because someone decided to fuck around with the teams now I have to actually spend time with her instead of lie about it.”

“Oh, boring,” Puck frowns and goes to start the car.

Santana looks back curiously, “What’d you think we were doing?”

Puck starts to smirk.

Santana scrunches her nose, “Actually, nevermind. I don’t want to know.”

“I’m just joking!” Puck laughs. “But seriously, will you tell me about your trip now? I was a little nervous that one of you wouldn’t be coming back.”

“What? Why?”

Puck shrugs, “I don’t know because you hate each other?”

Santana pauses, “I don’t know if hate’s the right word anymore.”

“You’d probably trick her into boarding the wrong plane or something. Is that not hate?”

Santana smirks, “Now that would’ve been funny.”

“See?”

Santana shakes her head, “I don’t know. She still frustrates the hell out of me and I find a lot of things she does super annoying, but to say I hate her doesn’t really fit anymore.”

Puck looks at her curiously, “You feeling okay? Did you finally get your heart back from Lima?”

Santana laughs, “You know Lima doesn’t have it.”

Puck chuckles along with her, “Well something big must’ve happened there if you’re changing your tune like this.”

“It’s nothing like that,” Santana replies. “I guess – I don’t know – I understand Brittany a little more? That doesn’t mean we’re going to braid each other’s hair anytime soon.”

“Right. What about your fam? How’d they feel about her?”

“We did what we were supposed to do. Mom likes her, Abuela not so much.”

“Shit,” Puck cringes.

“Yeah. It’ll work out though,” Santana answers. “This was a good start, we just need to put more time into it. I’m getting into that firm.”

“Hell yeah, you are!”

“In the meantime though, I’ve gotta up my game,” Santana says. “I can’t have people thinking Brittany’s a better girlfriend than me.”

Puck quirks his brow, “And how are you gonna do that?”

“Well after spending all this time with Brittany, I’ve learned me two things,” Santana smirks. “She’s a pushover and she’s a total sucker for the romantic shit, like the kind of shit that’s in movies. You know, real cliché stuff. Just look at the stuff she does for me.”

“Okay?”

“I just have to do it better than her,” Santana says simply, “I have to be thoughtful and sweet and take her by surprise. I’ve gotta be one step ahead at all times! And maybe I can embarrass the crap out of her in the process? It’s a win/win for me.”

Puck looks skeptic, but Santana’s already crafting her game plan.

Santana spends all night watching cheesy rom-coms just to get some inspiration, because as it turns out – she’s not really familiar with romantic gestures. She’s never really needed them because hooking up isn’t about romance and that’s how she likes it. But this fake relationship thing is really pushing her out of her comfort zone – good thing it’s all an act.

Puck joins Santana after getting back from weight training and together they make a list of all the possible ways Santana can fake-woo Brittany. Puck jots down a couple ideas for himself, lord knows he needs all the help he can get!

The only downside of a rom-com marathon is that most of the movies are predominately straight and Santana struggles to relate. Meanwhile, Puck’s trying to hide the fact that he’s tearing up during certain scenes.

Despite the string hetero content, Puck does end up getting his hands on a bootleg copy of Imagine Me and You. Now it’s Santana’s turn to pretend she’s not tearing up and Puck wastes no time in teasing her about it.

Santana decides she’s going start off slow with something simple; bringing Brittany snacks for when they study together later on. Where it lacks in romance, it makes up for in thoughtfulness so Santana’s sure it’ll be a winner.

She’s already stopped off somewhere on her way to cheer practice to get what she needs just incase she runs late again. At least if Coach Roz goes on another rant again, Santana will meet Brittany bearing gifts.

It’s a pretty perfect plan, but what Santana doesn’t expect is to find Brittany waiting outside of the gym for her. Apparently, the blonde had a similar idea in mind and has beaten Santana to the punch.

Not with snacks, but with something much more valuable.

“Uh hey,” Santana eyes her hesitantly. “What are you doing here?”

Brittany lifts the cup in her hand, “I got you this.”

“You got me a coffee?”

“Yeah, I was in the area and I knew you’d be coming here for practice.”

Santana’s brows furrow, “Did Puck put you up to this?”

Brittany frowns, “What?”

“Nevermind,” Santana shakes her head and moves closer to take the cup. She stares down at the lid and looks to Brittany, “What is it?”

“Coffee?” Brittany answers. “Strong and as black as your heart.”

“Just how I like it,” Santana lies as she masks her disappointment.

She braces herself for the bitter taste, hoping her facial expression doesn’t give her away. Surprisingly though, it tastes nothing like she expected it to – it’s sweet, just like she actually likes it.

Brittany starts to smirk, “Plus a box of sugar and bunch of milk.”

“How’d you know?” Santana asks. “I pay the barista extra to keep her mouth shut.”

“She did, but I’ve seen the inside of your purse,” Brittany chuckles. “It’s nothing but sugar packets and tiny creamers. Plus I’ve spent the last couple of mornings with you, I’ve noticed things.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Who knew this leather-jacket-wearing badass cheerleader secretly likes her coffee super sweet?”

“Exactly. It doesn’t fit the aesthetic,” Santana brushes off. “I can’t have that little detail about me getting out. What would people think?”

Brittany quirks a brow, “Do you really care that much about that?”

“Don’t you?” Santana says simply.

Brittany shrugs, “It’s just coffee. So what?”

Santana pauses. Sometimes Brittany can make the hardest things sound so simple and Santana can’t tell if it’s because Brittany’s naïve or Santana’s just so used to overcomplicating things. It doesn’t matter, she’s not getting into it right now.

“Thanks for this,” Santana replies. “I’ll see you after practice.”

Brittany bites her lip as she nods, “Yeah okay. See you later.”

Despite having a duffle bag full of all kinds of snacks, Santana holds off for the time being. It’s too close to Brittany’s little act of kindness and she can’t have the blonde thinking that she’s inspired Santana’s gesture.

So, she waits a few more days because timing is also important. Being surprised with snacks doesn’t mean a thing if you’ve just ate, so Santana keeps that in mind as she falls back into her usual routine of classes, cheer practice and studying.

The opportunity doesn’t arise until the following week.

Apparently one of Brittany’s classes has a test scheduled at the end of the week and it has the blonde stressed out more than usual. Santana only knows because Puck mentioned something about Brittany rescheduling a tutoring session which rarely happens.

So Santana thinks it’s finally her time to shine and really show off how thoughtful she can be!

As Santana makes her way inside the library with her bag full of goodies, there’s this big grin on her face because not only is she going to show Brittany she’s got some competition on the best girlfriend front there’s also quite the crowd around.

Again, it’s a win/win for Santana!

She finds Brittany in her usual spot at the back of the study area and makes her way over. Students studying at the various tables around watch as Santana saunters down the aisle in her cheer uniform. Santana can hear the whispers starting up and tries to keep from smirking at how good this is going to make her look.

“Hey,” Santana greets once she gets to Brittany’s table.

Brittany’s taken by complete surprise as she looks up. Santana can tell because the usual confidence is no where to be found, in it’s place is astonishment.

“Uh hi,” Brittany finally greets. “What are you doing here? Is it 3:30 already?”

“No. I was just in the neighborhood,” Santana shrugs as she takes a seat in front of Brittany. “Thought you might need a little afternoon snack break.”

Brittany looks questioningly until Santana starts pulling out various treats she knows Brittany loves. There’s a theater box of DOTS, a packet of Goldfish, a Mounds bar, and a few other goodies that are the healthier side.

“Awh, that’s so cute!” A girl from the table beside them coos before turning to her partner. “Where the hell are my snacks?”

The guy just frowns at Santana, “Thanks a lot.”

“Step your game up,” Santana tells him before turning back to Brittany. There’s a pleased smile on her face but she wants to hear it from Brittany herself, “You like?”

Brittany’s hesitant to answer but when she does, she can’t help but smile, “I like. I actually forgot my lunch today so this is perfect.”

Santana pumps her fist triumphantly before realizing people are still staring.

“You know, how long I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to give you all this stuff?” Santana admits. “I felt like a hoarder having to hide them in my room so Puck wouldn’t eat them.”

Brittany chuckles, “I don’t know how I’ll be able to top this.”

Santana smirks; that’s exactly what she likes to hear.

“Woah, who hit the jackpot?” Puck says, surprising the both of them as he comes up to the table.

“Jesus! Where’d you come from?” Santana gasps. “You know this is the library, right?”

“Yes,” Puck rolls his eyes. “I was studying with some guys from the team since Britt cancelled on me but I see why she did now.”

“Oh no, I didn’t know she was coming here,” Brittany explains quickly.

“It was a surprise,” Santana says proudly.

Pucks brows rise as he reaches for one of Brittany’s snacks, but Santana’s quick to swat at his hand.

“Paws off,” She tells him. “I got that for her, not you.”

“Damn chill,” Puck frowns as he holds his hand.

Brittany only chuckles at the pair, “Thanks for this. It’s been a much needed interruption but I do have to get back to studying.”

“Oh yeah, sure!” Santana nods as she goes to stand. She looks around to see if people are still watching and starts to grin when she finds that they are. “I’ll just be at practice, but let me know if you need anything else.”

“Okay,” Brittany smiles back.

“And I’ll just be over there,” Puck adds as he heads back to his table leaving Santana alone with Brittany.

“Thanks for the brain food,” Brittany mentions again. “Very sweet of you.”

Santana only shrugs although there’s a bashful smile on her face, “You know me, super thoughtful.”

“Uh-huh,” Brittany smirks before pulling her down gently for a kiss on the cheek. It takes Santana by surprise a little, but Brittany’s lips linger by Santana’s ear as she says. “I know you’re just trying to work the crowd. You’re not fooling me.”

Santana eyes go wide but she keeps a poker face, “Can’t have them thinking you’re the best girlfriend around.”

“Can’t help it if it’s true,” Brittany chuckles before letting Santana go. In a much louder voice she waves goodbye, “See you later, Fluffbottom!”

Santana pastes on a fake smile, but she can’t exit the building fast enough. The cringey terms of endearment are such a low blow!

With Brittany onto Santana’s little plan, the blonde starts to up her game too. Over the next couple of weeks, the two go back and forth just trying to one up the other in romantic gestures. They sort of make a game out of who can pull the biggest awh from the spectators that always flock the couple.

Currently, the score is pretty even but Brittany’s never too far behind.

Santana doesn’t get it, but she tries harder anyway.

The next time Brittany decides to show Santana that she’s always one step ahead of her, it’s during one of the basketball games Santana cheers for. At first, Santana didn’t even notice her in the crowd because when has Brittany ever come to a sporting event?

In fact, it’s probably the last place she’d ever expect to see Brittany.

And yet, there she is…waving eagerly with Puck by her side to get her attention.

“Awh! Santana, your girlfriend’s here to watch you cheer!” One of the girls on Santana’s squad coos. “That is so cute!”

“Yeah,” Santana answers as she keeps her eye narrowed on Brittany. “Real cute.”

It’s not until after the halftime performance that Santana’s able to make her way over to Brittany for the first time since spotting her. There’s this smug grin on the blonde’s face and Santana struggles to keep from rolling her eyes at the sight of it. She just knows Brittany’s mentally adding a point to their ongoing tally.

As Santana reaches the bottom of the bleachers, Brittany’s about halfway down the steps. Puck’s not too far behind, his entire face painted in white and Columbia blue for the occasion.

“Well this is a surprise,” Santana says once she’s close enough. “You never come to these things.”

“That’s because I’ve never dated a cheerleader before,” Brittany quips.

“I invited her,” Puck admits.

Santana looks between the two of them skeptically, “I get why Puck’s here, but you? Do you secretly like women’s basketball or something?”

Brittany shakes her head, “I don’t know a thing about it.”

“Then why are you here?” Santana questions.

“Like I said, you’re my reason.”

If anyone else was listening in, they might’ve found Brittany’s statement a little cute. Maybe if Brittany wasn’t Brittany, Santana might’ve found it cute too but she knows the blonde’s true motives. She knows she’s just trying to work the crowd so it rolls right over Santana’s head.

Instead, she looks from Brittany to Puck.

“I’m starting to question where your loyalties lie, Puckerman,” Santana tells him.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t think she’d actually say yes! I was just being nice.”

His hands are instantly thrown up in defense.

“Uh-huh.”

“He didn’t do anything. I was already thinking of coming,” Brittany interrupts with a sweet smile. “I figured I might as well add supportive girlfriend to the long list of things I’m great at and this was the perfect opportunity.”

Santana laughs off the jab, “Perfect girlfriend my ass.”

“I think it was pretty smart thinking on my part,” Brittany replies as she nods over to the entryway. “Did you know Eddie would be here?”

Santana glances in the coach’s direction and does her best to hide the fact that she forgot all about him possibly being around. “Duh. Of course he’d be here, he comes to most games.”

“Guess I should start coming to most games too then,” Brittany suggests. “Keep up appearances.”

Santana hates that Brittany’s got a point. Now’s about the time Santana would move on to the next girl and Eddie’s sure to be taking note so he can report back to Maribel. Damn Brittany and her quick thinking!

“Sure whatever,” Santana brushes off. “I need to get back. I hope you enjoy the rest of show.”

“I’ll try,” Brittany smirks before lifting the book in her hand. “I’ve got this just incase.”

“You brought a book to read at a game?” Santana tries not to laugh. “Can you at least try not being so nerdy? It’s hard to pretend to like you if you’re making it so easy for me to make fun of you.”

Brittany sighs through her smile, “It’s only a precaution incase I get bored.”

“Bored? Our performances aren’t boring,” Santana tells her. “What’s boring about a full twisted layout?”

Brittany only shrugs, “I don’t even know what that is.”

“It’s a dope move that requires skill and talent.”

“So something you can’t do?” Brittany smirks.

Santana fakes a laugh, “You’re so funny.”

“What about the skirts? You like them, right?” Puck suddenly asks Brittany, still hung up on finding the games boring.

Santana nods along with him, “Everyone likes the skirts.”

Brittany’s eyes rake up Santana’s lithe frame slowly while Santana poses.

If there’s anything Santana’s more confident in, it’s her looks. She’s hot and she knows she’s hot, it’s not even about being conceited it’s pure fact. That combined with the power of a cheerleading uniform has never failed her, so it’s only a matter of time before Brittany’s admitting defeat.

When their eyes finally meet, there’s a smug grin on Santana’s face but Brittany is expressionless.

“It’s okay,” Brittany tells them with indifference.

Puck’s jaw drops, he’s practically besides himself with the news, while Santana only stares. She might not be able to read Brittany most of the time, but what she has become good at is noticing a blatant lie.

And it’s okay is one of them.

It’s like Santana’s finally found a weakness in Brittany’s front because why lie about it? If you think someone’s hot then say so, it’s no big deal – at least, to her it’s not. You don’t have to like people that you find attractive, clearly, so what’s Brittany’s deal?

Maybe it’s the lack of flirtatious banter or the build up of sex deprivation, but testing Brittany’s willpower sparks Santana’s interest and gets her thinking of a slightly better game.

“So this does nothing for you?” Santana asks again with a little shake of her hips.

In all of her years as a cheerleader, she’s never met anyone who could resist. Even without the uniform, Santana’s just got this confidence about her – this undeniable sexual magnetism – that kind of makes her irresistible.

Like she’s always said, she can’t help that she’s attractive. It truly is a gift.

Even Puck looks to Brittany for an answer. Funny thing though, Brittany doesn’t take the bait. Instead, she just maintains eye contact with Santana – unyielding and a little unnerving.

“Honey,” Brittany says sweetly. “If you’re looking for someone to drool over you keep looking.”

“Wow,” Santana laughs. “Some girlfriend you are!”

“I’m not that shallow,” Brittany quips. “I don’t care about what you wear. I’m more interested in your heart.”

“God,” Santana scrunches her nose. “Who knew you were such a cornball.”

“I thought you’d like that,” Brittany chuckles. “But seriously, you can’t distract me with a short skirt.”

“I’ll remember you said that,” Santana challenges with a smirk.

Looks like Brittany’s a harder one to crack than she thought.

Thankfully though the odds are in still Santana’s favor because what holiday is only weeks away now?

Valentine’s Day.

And it’s never too early to start the scheming! Santana’s been going pretty soft in the weeks following the game Brittany surprised her at, but it was all for a purpose. She’s letting Brittany create a false sense of security, she’s letting her think she’s totally got this in the bag. And when Brittany least expects it, BAM! Santana will pull out all the stops!

That’ll definitely put an end to the Brittany’s so thoughtful, Santana you’re so lucky! The roles will totally be reversed and that’s the ultimate win – another she can add to her figurative trophy shelf!

And although Santana won’t be getting laid this year, which is so depressing, the thought of being dubbed the best girlfriend ever over Brittany is pretty up there.

So when Valentine’s week finally rolls around, Santana’s as eager as ever. She has the heart-shaped chocolates, she has the cute stuffed animal in it’s little red bowtie, but most importantly – she has the outfit.

And the outfit is everything.

“Woah,” Puck skids to a stop when he finds Santana in their kitchen dressed in her short candy striper dress. “Where are you going looking like that?”

Santana smirks as she finishes off her breakfast, “I’m going to see Brittany.”

“Dressed like that?”

“Yup.”

Puck tears his eyes away and looks at Santana like she’s crazy. “You know she’s in class, right? Not camped out a strip club.”

Santana brushes him off, “Obviously. It’s all apart of the plan.”

“What plan?” Puck laughs, “Give the girl a heart attack?”

“Sort of,” Santana starts grinning devilishly. “I’m gonna break her.”

Puck rolls his eyes, “This about the skirt thing again?”

“Yes!” Santana groans. “Don’t you think it’s weird that Brittany won’t admit that she finds me attractive?”

“Maybe she doesn’t.”

Santana eyes him like he’s lost his mind.

“Impossible,” She says.

Puck shakes his head, “This is trouble. You know that right?”

“It’s just a game between friends.”

“But you two aren’t friends,” Puck laughs as he makes a coffee.

“Shit. You’re right,” Santana pauses to think before shrugging. “Well then this is purely for my enjoyment. I haven’t had sex in like a month or made out with a hot stranger. I’m not allowed to flirt with anyone because technically I’m taken. The only joy I have left is being better than Brittany and or embarrassing the hell out of her so just let me have this.”

“Do whatever you want, Lopez.”

“Thank you,” Santana smiles angelically. She reaches for her basket of Valentine’s Day goodies, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go make some jaws drop.”

Puck only lifts his mug of coffee in salute as his best friend leaves.

So far, Santana’s outfit works like a charm. She kind of missed the way heads would roll for her whenever she walked by. She doesn’t really get that anymore with a girlfriend around and god, has she missed this attention! With Brittany, the compliments are all for show so it doesn’t really do anything for her but this – the helpless bystanders she leaves drooling in her wake?

There’s nothing fake about that.

Now when it comes to making her entrance, Santana’s a little merciful.

At first, she considered interrupting the class but she knows by now Brittany wouldn’t like that too much since she’s the biggest nerd she’s ever met and takes class super seriously. So instead, Santana waits in the hall until class finishes up. It’s an even better plan than the first because not only will she take Brittany by surprise, she’ll have an audience too without the threat of a professor telling her off for an interruption.

Santana counts the minutes, eagerly awaiting the class’s dismissal.

As the first few students start trickling out, Santana moves to stand taller – ready for showtime. There’s a sultry look on her face – one that’s been known to make knees go weak – as Brittany finally makes an appearance.

This time, Brittany’s the one taken by surprise; so much so that she does a double take when she sees Santana standing there.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Santana greets in a seductive tone.

It takes a second for Brittany to answer, her eyes struggling to stay on Santana’s. The brunette’s already taking this as a big win.

“It’s…not Valentine’s Day yet,” Brittany finally replies although she’s still visibly stunned.

“I figure I’d start early,” Santana flirts shamelessly with a soft touch to Brittany’s arm. “My girl should get a week’s worth of Valentine’s fun. Don’t you think?”

Brittany gulps, “Well…I was sort of waiting until the day to give you my gift.”

Santana smirks; she swears sweat is starting to bead around Brittany’s brow. The will power is definitely strong though, Santana can give her that!

“That’s okay,” Santana bites her lip seductively. “I’m sure it’ll be worth the wait.”

Brittany’s eyes flicker to Santana’s lips then back to meet her eyes. Something flashes in those dazzling blues and it’s like a trance has been broken. Brittany moves to stand a little straighter, her hands falling to Santana’s hips – strong and sure – as she begins to match Santana’s smirk.

“It’ll be so worth it,” Brittany flirts just as shamelessly which makes Santana falter. “Although, I don’t have anything like this is my wardrobe.”

“Only a select few have been able to pull it off,” Santana replies.

“I bet,” Brittany comments. “Looks like a lot of laces and buttons to get around.”

Santana falters again; she didn’t expect Brittany to take her words so literally but it kind of does something to her. It gives the slightest tug to something growing restless within her. But she shakes it off, keeps her eye on the prize.

“It’s quite time consuming. Have to be good with your hands,” Santana tells her.

Brittany cheeks go a little red at that and Santana quickly capitalizes on the moment.

“On top of the goodies I’ve brought, I also have these,” Santana says as she lifts her little basket. “Chocolates, every heart-shaped candy I could find, a teddy bear…”

“Looks like you’ve really outdone yourself,” Brittany notes with a peek into Santana’s basket. “How will I ever top this?”

There’s the slightest bit of sarcasm there, but Santana smirks anyway.

“You know…that’s the second time I’ve heard you say that. You might want to admit defeat while you still can.”

Brittany rolls her eyes, “You’re playing a dangerous game, Santana.”

“That’s the only kind of game I like to play.”

Brittany quirks her brow, “Okay.”

Santana wavers, “Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Brittany chuckles.

“But – “

“I really have to get to my next class,” Brittany explains as she takes Santana’s basket while pressing a kiss to her cheek. “This was cute though.”

Cute? Puppies are cute. Kittens are cute. Hell, some babies are kind of cute. But this? Santana wasn’t going for cute. She was aiming higher than that! Much, much higher!

“Wait,” Santana calls out just as Brittany’s take a few steps down the hall.

Brittany turns, looking back at her expectantly.

“You’re talking about the basket right?” Santana asks, “The basket is cute?”

Brittany sighs tiredly although the smile is still there. Her eyes dip down to Santana’s exposed legs, that short, ruffled skirt, the corset and the amazing things it does to her cleavage then back up again.

“The outfit’s not bad too,” Brittany tells her with a smirk before turning away.

Not bad, Santana thinks. It’s not the statement she would’ve gone with but it’s a step up from cute so she’ll take it. The expression on Brittany’s face when she first saw Santana was way better though.

Santana spends the rest of Valentine’s week doing cute little things here and there, but she kind of regrets starting off so strong with the outfit when the actual day comes.

It’s so typical of her to jump straight to the knockout punch instead of doing things slow and steady. She’s never had the patience for that and it’s biting her in the ass now, because all she has left up her sleeve is this giant heart-shaped balloon that she made Puck buy the night before and a bouquet of flowers.

She’s just hoping the simplicity of it is enough to get a good reaction out of the crowd, because walking towards their first class of the day together with a big ass balloon is already turning some heads. Not in the way heads turned for her on Monday, but hey – at least she has range.

When she finally does reach the lecture hall, it’s no surprise that Brittany’s already seated inside.

“Really Santana?” Professor Martinez sighs when Santana struggles to get the balloon through the door. “Don’t you think that’s a little distracting?”

“You know what else is distracting?” Santana quips as she sets her eyes on Brittany. “The adoration I have for my girlfriend.”

“Here we go,” Professor Martinez laughs. “I almost like it better when you two were constantly fighting.”

Santana brushes him off as she makes her way to Brittany, “This is for you.”

Brittany looks up at her reflection in the shiny red of the giant balloon, “Of course it is.”

“And also these,” Santana then presents Brittany with the bouquet. “I went with something a little out of the ordinary, you know, thinking outside of the box. I know how much you appreciate – “

“I’m allergic to sunflowers.”

Santana’s heart drops, “What?”

“Yeah,” Brittany leans back. “Deathly allergic.”

“Shit,” Santana instantly jolts away from her but Brittany starts to laugh. “Wait, seriously?”

“No, not seriously,” Brittany giggles as she accepts the gifts. “Who’s allergic to sunflowers?”

“Uh, I don’t know!” Santana frowns. “I’m sure someone out there is.”

Brittany quiets down, “Sorry. That was a little mean.”

Santana shakes her head as she takes the seat beside Brittany.

“And people say I’m mean,” She says.

Brittany leans over and kisses her cheek, “I don’t think anyone says that.”

Santana lets out a laugh, “You say that.”

“It’s not as bad as I thought,” Brittany shrugs. “Anyway, since we’re doing gifts already I can take you to part one of yours after class?”

“Part one?”

“Mhmm,” Brittany hums. “It should be ready by then. Part two needs a little more time.”

Santana gets to thinking what Brittany could possibly have planned, but Professor Martinez interrupts with the beginning of his lecture. Once again, Santana’s lack of patience has her completely distracted all class.

“It’s in the art wing?” Santana questions as she follows after Brittany who has been tight-lipped since the end of class.

“Looks that way,” Brittany chuckles. “You’ll find out soon enough if you just quit asking questions.”

“I can’t help that I’m impatient.”

“Sure you can.”

Santana sighs and continues following Brittany until they reach their destination just a few minutes later. It’s a narrow hallway with a line of wooden doors and they’re stopped at the very first one.

“It’s in there?” Santana asks.

“Yup,” Brittany grins. “I’ll have to blindfold you though.”

“Kinky,” Santana smirks.

Brittany blushes through an eye roll, “Just turn around so I can put this on you.”

Santana continues joking as she turns for her, “I should’ve known, the quiet ones are always the kinkiest.”

“I’m not quiet,” Brittany replies as she tightens the blindfold around Santana’s head.

“I mean,” Santana snickers, “Just wanky.”

“Can you see anything?”

“Obviously not.”

“Perfect,” Brittany says and takes Santana by the hand.

Santana can hear the door creak open and she’s instantly hit with the scent of flowers. The blindfold’s kind of pointless now because the floral aroma gives away the surprise almost instantly, but just as she’s about to say something – Brittany pushes her to sit down.

Now, Santana’s been blindfolded a handful of times in her life. Santana’s also been pushed to sit down a handful of times in her life too. The combination of the two - historically for her – has lead to some pretty steamy times.

Obviously that won’t be the case here, but God does she wish it were.

The thought makes her wonder if it would matter if the person on the other side of that blindfold was still Brittany, but she doesn’t get to come up with an answer as the blindfold is soon pulled off.

Santana blinks at the sudden bright light to find that she’s surrounded by flowers. Like, a ton of them! They’re in buckets, in pots, in glass vases and in…red solo cups?

“I ran out of space,” Brittany comments when she notices Santana looking confused.

“Right,” Santana breathes out and as she turns to admire the entire room she’s even more surprised by what else she sees – a bunch of people staring back at her through a glass window.

That’s when she realizes that Brittany’s led her to an art display case, a display case that nearly everyone in the entire building walks by on their way to and from class. Santana quickly plasters on a smile while she’s on display in front of the crowd as Brittany comes to wrap an arm around her.

“Didn’t think you were the only one with a few tricks up her sleeve, huh?” Brittany whispers through her smirk.

“How’d you even get access to this case?” Santana wonders. “Don’t you have to book them like three months in advance?”

“I know a guy,” Brittany teases. “Now wave to our audience. They’re all here to witness this, they’ve known about it all week.”

Santana fights the eyeroll and waves, “You know, just because you fill a room full of flowers doesn’t mean you win this.”

“They’re not just any flowers though. I did my research,” Brittany defends. “They’re the lesbians of flowers.”

Santana looks around the room and deadpans, “Oh wow.”

“Didn’t know that was a thing, did you?”

“I can’t say that I did, no.”

“Just wait until part two of your gift,” Brittany tells her.

Santana looks back at her hesitantly, “When’s that gonna be?”

Brittany begins to smirk, “When you least expect it.”

Yeah, Santana’s really regretting starting off the week strong now.

When you least expect it ends up meaning later that day during Santana’s cheer practice.

They’re out on the field for training because Coach Roz loves reminding everyone how much of a privilege it is to be able to practice in a heated gym. Apparently when she trained for the Olympics, their gym didn’t have heating so now once a month they train without heating too.

With it being the middle of February in New York, it’s fucking cold. Santana’s past complaining about her tits freezing off and is now just trying to get the hell out of there as fast as she can now that practice is finally over.

She almost gets away with it too, until all the lights in the stadium suddenly turn on causing everyone to stop and look around.

Santana’s been on edge ever since the whole Lesbians of Flowers incident took place earlier in the day, so she eyes her surroundings suspiciously – waiting for Brittany to fall from the sky dressed like cupid or something ridiculous and over the top.

What she doesn’t expect is to see the school’s Glee Club take the stands with Brittany leading them.

“Oh no,” Santana mumbles as microphone feedback echoes throughout the field. “She better not.”

“Attention all Lions,” Brittany’s voice booms over the loud speaker. “As a final Valentine’s Day treat, I’ve enlisted some friends to help me dedicate a little song to my favorite person ever.”

Santana’s face suddenly feels red hot. She barely feels the cold February air now as everyone turns to look at her. If there’s anything that embarrasses her more, it’s being serenaded in public – especially without any alcohol involved.

“This one’s for you, Sweet Cheeks!” Brittany says before the Glee Club starts up with their harmonizing.

As soon as they start singing Britney Spears’ (You Drive Me) Crazy, Santana doesn’t know whether to laugh or take offence. The song choice is actually kind of perfect for them in the literal sense as Santana gets to listening to the lyrics.

Obviously not every line is accurate, but Santana finds herself giggling as the performance goes on. Brittany’s totally feeling it though; dancing along with the Glee Clubbers in her own way although she looks so out of place next to their bland, choreographed steps.

She actually ends up dancing down the bleachers and Santana eagerly awaits a misstep, but it never happens. Leave it to Brittany to be able to dance down bleacher steps while other people usually struggle coming down the things normally.

Slightly out of breath, Brittany skips over to Santana with the smuggest grin yet.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” She says.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Santana replies.

“What’d you think about my part two?” Brittany nods over to the performance still going on.

“Definitely not what I had in mind,” Santana chuckles.

“I’ve paid them to repeat the performance until I give them a signal.”

“Give the signal now then,” Santana urges with a laugh.

“No way, I love this song!” Brittany starts to shimmy her shoulders, “Picked it out myself, you know. Britney’s kind of iconic.”

“Brittany likes Britney,” Santana quips. “Why am I not surprised?”

The blonde rolls her eyes, “You can go ahead admit defeat now.”

“I’ll be doing no such thing,” Santana crosses her arms. “Game’s not over until I say it is and since public humiliation is apparently on the table – “

“A sing-o-gram is hardly public humiliation,” Brittany argues.

“Maybe if they weren’t tone deaf losers then sure.”

Brittany puts a hand on her hip, “That was mean.”

“Just keeping it real,” Santana shrugs. “But seriously. Make them stop.”

Brittany sighs, “Fine.”

Suddenly, she takes Santana in her arms and dips her. A kiss lands on her cheek but to everyone else still watching them it looks as if it’s made contact with Santana’s lips. Santana hangs onto Brittany’s jacket for dear life, just hoping that the girl doesn’t drop her.

She doesn’t and soon Santana’s being stood upright again. The smug grin is back again as blue eyes sparkle with mischief.

“That was your signal?” Santana questions when she realizes the singing finally stopped.

Brittany shrugs, “Felt like it fit the moment.”

“Didn’t think it was a little dramatic?”

“My adoration for you is a little dramatic,” Brittany quips.

Santana just shakes her head and laughs. She knows just what to do to give Brittany a taste of her own medicine. Like the blonde, Santana just has to wait until she least expects it.

The moment happens to arise a couple weeks later when Puck mentions something about Brittany inviting him to some big Brainiacs’ match.

“I can’t go though,” Puck tells Santana. “Got a hot date.”

“Right,” Santana replies – the gears already turning.

“You busy?” He asks. “Maybe you can go instead?”

Santana smirks, “I’m one step ahead of you.”

It’s pretty short notice, but Santana acts fast in gathering her necessary supplies. The pure embarrassment she felt on Valentine’s Day fuels her as she breaks out the posterboard and markers. She even takes it a step further and scours Brittany’s social media for some headshots, anything that won’t go all pixelated on fabric. She narrows it down to a select few and gets to work. In all her years as a cheerleader, Santana’s become well acquainted with showing a little spirit and her decorating skills are on point!

When the night of the match finally comes, Santana arrives to the building in her freshly bedazzled t-shirt donning pictures of Brittany’s face along side a giant Number One Nerd as well as a poster decorated in a similar fashion. There’s no denying who Brittany’s number one fan truly is.

“Santana!” Tina greets her at the entrance. “Hi! This is a first. Oh wow, I love your shirt!”

“Just being a supportive girlfriend,” Santana grins – loving the publicity she’ll be sure to get with Tina around. “I never get a chance to go to Brittany’s matches with cheer practice. Thought I should go all out.”

“It’s a tough match tonight,” Tina tells her. “I’m sure you know that already. The Brainiacs will be grateful for the support.”

“Brittany will crush it,” Santana replies confidently.

When Santana gets inside, she quickly finds a spot near the front so Brittany won’t have any trouble spotting her in the crowd. Not like she could when Santana’s holding a bright blue poster.

She walks the narrow aisle like a tightrope and settles in an empty seat between two older couples. They’re probably here to support someone on either team or maybe just here because they lost a bet – who knows. Santana, however, is here on a mission and there’s nothing more exciting than the suspense in embarrassing the crap out of Brittany.

Once the match begins, an announcer strolls out to introduce the teams.

Santana doesn’t pay him any mind or the geeks that slowly start making their entrance until she hears Brittany’s name. She’s on her feet in an instant as she goes into full cheerleader mode.

“Go Brittany!” She calls out – her voice louder than the sound of applause – as she waves her poster excitedly. She can feel those around her staring, but she doesn’t care because the look of complete disbelief on Brittany’s face is even better.

Suddenly the couple next to her stands and starts to cheer, “Go Brittany!”

Santana eyes them curiously, wondering if she just started something or they’re just chiming in along with her. They’re just as loud, if not louder, but what’s even more curious is the way Brittany shies away from the attention.

Still though, Santana continues to wave as Brittany walks across the stage to her seat. It’s not until Brittany’s seated that Santana tops off her antics by blowing her a kiss then watches with a satisfied grin as she sees Brittany’s face go red.

Safe to say, Santana won this round.

Despite the fact that academic decathlon club is just a glorified way of saying trivia team, Santana’s kind of surprised by how well Brittany actually does. The girl hasn’t missed a question yet which is saying something because Santana hasn’t heard of half of the things these questions consist of.

Another thing that sticks out to Santana is the fact that Brittany’s the only girl on the team. She wonders what that must be like, especially considering most of the guys on Brittany’s team seem really…fucking pretentious.

Their team captain? An absolute dickhead, Santana’s sure of it judging by the way he didn’t clap for Brittany’s correct answer. Some team captain he is and the others just follow his lead.

And Santana doesn’t know why, but seeing the way they interact with Brittany just makes her want to cheer even louder. She doesn’t even care when the rest of Brittany’s team glare at her, she’ll probably never see them again after this.

“Go Brittany!” Santana yells when Brittany answers correctly again. This time she makes eye contact with the couple next to her and explains, “That’s my girlfriend.”

The woman blinks, strangely similarly to Brittany, “I didn’t know Brittany was dating anyone.”

“Brittany’s dating someone?” The man next to her asks. “What happened to Artie?”

Santana tilts her head to the side, “Who’s Artie?”

The couple share a look while Santana starts connecting the dots. The woman’s blonde hair and striking blue eyes, the man’s t-shirt donning Brittany’s name and face – which she didn’t realize until now.

Suddenly, it dawns on her.

“Wait. Are you,” Santana stammers. “Are you Brittany’s parents?”

The woman smiles as she nods, “I’m her mom, Whitney. This is Pierce, her dad.”

The man next to her waves, “Hi. I’m Pierce.”

“I just said that,” Whitney whispers to him.

“Did you? I didn’t hear.”

Santana’s stunned, unsure of what she’s meant to do. She already introduced herself as Brittany’s girlfriend but Brittany doesn’t need a fake girlfriend – does she? And who the hell is Artie?

She’s starting to panic a little as Brittany’s reaction earlier starts to make sense. All this time, Santana’s been sitting next to her parents and she couldn’t do a thing about it! And when it comes to parents, she’s not like Brittany. She’s never been the girl people take home to meet their parents!

This is unknown territory and she can’t believe she’s even thinking it but where’s Brittany when she needs her?

“And you are?” Whitney asks – breaking Santana out of her thoughts.

Santana blinks, “Sorry?”

“Your name, dear.”

“Oh!” Santana blushes, “Duh. Sorry, I’m Santana.”

“Pretty name,” Whitney compliments.

“Santana,” Pierce repeats the name like he’s trying to commit it to memory.

Santana nods, wondering if she should be giving them the well-rehearsed spiel about their relationship or if she should just wait for Brittany. She’s really at a loss here and keeps looking to Brittany for some type of signal, but the girl is too focused on the trivia.

“So you have classes together?” Whitney asks, “You and Brittany?”

Santana swallows dryly, “Yeah. We have a couple together.”

“That’s nice,” Whitney replies. “You know our Brittany is the first in the family to go to college? Technically she’s gone to two so that’s even better.”

Santana’s brows rise at the information, “I-I didn’t know that, no.”

“She’s really something special,” She tells Santana. “We try to go to as many of her matches as we can. She’s just so smart.”

“We don’t know where she gets it from,” Pierce jokes. “Definitely not me.”

Whitney sighs through her smile, “It did take us all by surprise.”

Santana briefly remembers her and Brittany’s conversation on their flight back to campus. There was something about Brittany being left behind, about people not seeing her potential and giving up. It makes her wonder if her parents were lumped into that group, although it’s hard to imagine such a nice couple doing something like that to Brittany.

When the match ends awhile later – another win for the Brainiacs – Santana anxiously awaits Brittany’s entrance. So far the conversation with Brittany’s parents never exceeded surface level stuff which is a relief but she can tell there are questions and she doesn’t think she can answer them on her own.

“Mom, dad,” Brittany greets. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“We thought we’d surprise you since we’ve missed your last couple of matches,” Whitney says.

Brittany nods and looks to Santana.

“We had similar ideas,” Santana explains. “Being that I’m a supportive girlfriend and all.”

“I see,” Brittany catches on and wraps her arm around Santana’s waist. “It was a great surprise.”

Whitney and Pete look between the two and start to smile.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were dating someone, Britt-Britt?” Pierce asks.

Santana’s brows rise at the nickname, “Yeah Britt-Britt. Wanna keep me a secret?”

Brittany forces a laugh as she subtly pinches Santana’s side.

“Kidding,” Santana amends.

“I was going to tell you this weekend,” Brittany explains to her parents. “I’ve been really focused on preparing for this match. It’s been a pretty busy week.”

“That’s okay, dear,” Whitney replies. “We just want to be kept in the loop.”

Brittany frowns, “Yeah sure. Well, we’ve got to get going.”

“What?” Santana quirks her brow.

Whitney and Pierce respond similarly, “You don’t want to go for dinner or ice cream or something? You know, like we used to?”

“Santana and I have plans already,” Brittany tells them. “Maybe tomorrow though if you’re still around.”

Whitney and Pierce exchange a look, “We were going to drive back tomorrow morning.”

“Right,” Brittany shrugs. “Well maybe next time then.”

Santana watches as Brittany begins saying her goodbyes to her parents. She can sense the awkward tension and it makes her feel weird for intruding, but it doesn’t last long as Brittany loops her arms with hers and drags her away.

“Uh, what was that about?” Santana questions when they’re outside. “You don’t want to hang out with your parents?”

Brittany ignores the questions as they get to walking, “Sorry if they were annoying or anything.”

Santana grows even more confused, “They weren’t. They just want to cheer you on. How's that annoying?”

“I forgot I was talking to the captain of the cheer squad,” Brittany deflects again with a smirk.

“I'm not captain.”

Brittany looks to her, “You're not?"

Santana shakes her head, “Nope. People suspect favoritism when your step dad is the football coach.”

Brittany scoffs, “What's he have to do with cheerleading?”

“Exactly,” Santana says before getting back on topic. “Anyway, your parents seem sweet.”

“I guess.”

Santana looks at her, “No?”

It takes Brittany a second to answer, “They just, they haven't always been there for me growing up. They had no problem handing me off when something more important came up, you know?”

Santana shakes her head, “What could be more important than their kid?”

“Beats me,” Brittany shrugs. “But I guess they're trying to make up for that now.”

Santana nods, noticing the forlorn look on Brittany’s face and how misplaced it looks. Her comment gets her thinking about her dad and how he wasn’t around that often either, but he never let her forget how proud he was of her accomplishments. Even if he wasn’t around a lot, Santana never doubted how he felt about her.

With Brittany, she doesn’t think she returns the sentiment.

“Well, that's pretty fucked up,” Santana admits. Brittany looks back at her questioningly but Santana only shrugs, “I'd totally be there for my kid especially if they were half as smart as you.”

Brittany starts to grin and that forlornness suddenly disappears and morphs into something Santana’s a lot more familiar with.

“Didn't know you knew how to give compliments,” Brittany quips.

Santana rolls her eyes, “And there you go making me regret it.”

#Hate to Date #Brittana #Brittana Fanfiction #Enemies to Lovers #Fake Dating AU

32 notes · View notes

fandomcelery · 3 years

Text

Feelings are complicated, aren't they?

Pairing: Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce

Word Count: 2107

Rating: Teens and Up

Tags: Sexuality Crisis, Internalized Homophobia, Pining

Beta: @useless-fanfictions helped me out a lot on this fic, especially since I'm just starting out writing, so a big thanks to them!

Summary: Walking next to Brittany felt normal and right, but at that moment it felt slightly wrong. A bunch of questions were running through her mind. Was she acting differently? Was it obvious that something was off? Oh god, does everyone think that she’s gay?

Or, the one where Santana realizes she might have feelings for Brittany and panics over it.

Read it on Ao3

For the Glee Character "This-or-That" Challenge: @gleethisorthatchallenge

Prompt: Sharing a bed or Sexuality Crisis

The way Santana feels around Brittany is normal, right? Sure, she’s never felt it for any other person—not even any of her previous boyfriends—but it’s a completely normal feeling. And yeah, okay, she also defends Brittany all the time when people insult or make fun of her, and when Brittany sticks up for her and is always by her side, she can never stop smiling. She always feels warm whenever she compliments her about literally anything that she’s wearing, or how her hair looks that day, or really anything that makes Santana feel pretty.

There’s also the fact that they have sex regularly even though they’re in relationships with guys who would willingly have sex with them as well, but that’s different. It must be different, because if it’s not—

No, it’s not an option for it to not be anything but platonic. It’s got to be, it just has to be.

Even though Santana hates when people flirt with Brittany and will usually try to scare them off when others aren’t looking. Or when they get into fights or arguments, big or small, she feels like shit when she can’t talk to Brittany, and then that means they can’t have their sweet lady kisses that make Santana feel like they are the only two people left on the entire planet.

Feelings are complicated, aren’t they?

As long as she always stands her ground, keeping their relationship just friends, and convincing Brittany—and a little bit of herself—that even though they’re in relationships they can have sex and it’s not cheating because they’re both girls, she will be fine. She just has to keep telling herself that their relationship isn’t anything, that they’re strictly friends and that she doesn’t have feelings for her best friend, because if she did then she wouldn’t know what she would do with herself.

She’s not homophobic, and just because Kurt freaking Hummel struts around with his gay flag waving in the air doesn’t mean that everyone can or has to. And even if they do, they’ll get bullied and harassed, just like him. It’s the way that everything goes, the straight popular kids are on top, and the gays are at the bottom, even though that’s ridiculous, it’s the way it goes.

She’ll just keep it to herself—even though there’s nothing there, obviously—and everything will be fine. She hopes that if she keeps telling herself that then maybe it will be.

***

Of course, that’s not what happens. The following Monday, after the weekend Santana had realized that something is different, it seemed like everyone has been staring at the two of them differently, but it might just be her paranoia talking.

Walking next to Brittany felt normal and right, but at that moment it felt slightly wrong. A bunch of questions were running through her mind. Was she acting differently? Was it obvious that something was off? Oh god, does everyone think that she’s gay? She is suddenly on the defensive side, glaring at the people who she thought were looking at her and Brittany weirdly. Maybe people always looked at them this way and neither of them ever noticed or cared; except now she did.

She knows the route they take to get to their next classes by heart because they always walk together, even though their schedules don’t really line up. Most people think that all the Cheerios just walk to class together in groups because the outfits look good together—which they do, she thinks conceitedly—and because of the cheerleading cliques. For a while that’s why Quinn, Brittany, and Santana would walk together, but then they actually got kind of close because of Glee Club, and now Quinn walks with Finn to her classes and Santana walks with Brittany.

During her fourth period that she has alone she can’t stop thinking about Brittany. How when she walks to class she hugs her binder to her chest, or how during class she always fidgets with her pencil when she’s in between writing, or how even if she doesn’t care about what people are talking about, she’ll listen to them anyway (like this one time a few days ago when they had arrived early to glee club and Rachel had come up to Brittany and her to ask for dance lessons, going on and on about something that had to do with her being a star and needing to know how to dance better, and Santana had only been paying attention to Brittany and ignored Rachel’s harping), Santana admires the way Brittany exists, and how it seems like nothing really bothers her. She doesn’t know why all of the sudden it’s hitting her, especially since she’s been friends with her for so long, and no, she doesn’t have feelings for her, they’re just friends.

***

They walk to their usual seats during lunch together, every now and again bumping shoulders with how close they are while they’re talking. Santana sits down across from Brittany, as she doesn’t miss a beat from what she’s saying to sit down.

“And I swear that Lord Tubbington has a gambling addiction, but he won’t stop—” she takes a bite of her food, “—and I don’t know what to do.”

“Why don’t you just take away his laptop privileges?” Santana suggests, also taking a bite of her own food. It’s not bad, however, it’s not good. Then again, it’s the school’s food. When she looks up at Brittany, she looks quizzical, like she hasn’t thought of doing that.

“That probably would work,” Brittany responds, and continues eating.

Santana’s focused on something else. That something else is Brittany’s physical appearance, everything about her: to her flashing smile, to her thin and perfect eyebrows. her slim waist, long legs, and her torso—which she shouldn’t be staring at in the middle of school, and yet she is. She is stunning to Santana, with her lean appearance and bright golden colored hair pulled perfectly back into a ponytail. Her blue eyes seem to twinkle all the time.

“Santana?” Brittany asks after she’s been staring for a moment or two.

“Huh, what? Sorry, I was just, thinking,” she responds quickly and looks away to other tables where other kids are sitting, she lets go of her lip that she must have been biting on.

“About what?” Brittany takes another bite of her food, almost finished, whereas Santana has barely touched hers.

“Nothing important,” she mumbles, taking a drink from her water bottle. The answer seems to satisfy Brittany and they go back to normal and easy conversation like Santana hadn’t been just staring at her best friend’s boobs.

***

Glee Club isn’t that different. Rachel and Mercedes are fighting for a solo that Mr. Schue handed out, he doesn’t know how to handle it, and so they’re trying to argue over one another. Finn, Puck, Matt, and Mike are making bets about something in football. Kurt, Tina, and Artie are talking about something—she can’t hear their conversation, and honestly doesn’t care—and so it’s Quinn, Brittany and her talking about the Cheerios like they always are.

“Sue’s been on our asses about winning at Nationals,” Quinn comments as she sits down next to Brittany.

“She’s just concerned about staying on top,” Santana remarks, looking around the choir room. She looks up at the two who are arguing over one another and laughs a little bit. Everyone knows that Rachel’s going to get the solo, she usually does. Mercedes probably knows that, too, and yet she’s still going to fight for it.

“And her paycheck,” Quinn adds.

Eventually Mr. Schue stood in front of the class, apparently they had sorted it out where Rachel got this solo and Mercedes would get the next one.

This Glee practice they were going to focus on their choreography added with singing, and it wasn’t that big of an issue for the three cheerleaders (and it was mostly for the jocks to practice anyway, since they were the ones having problems, other than Mike, surprisingly).

Afterwards everyone was tired and sore, they had to start over a bunch of times because someone kept messing up (Finn). Slowly the choir room emptied, and Brittany and Santana walked to their next class together. They were going to walk with Quinn, but she had muttered something about a “troll trying to steal her boyfriend” and went off to walk with Finn. They separated at their different classrooms, and the three of them were going to meet up for Cheerios practice that was after school, which was their usual plan.

***

After practice Santana was even more exhausted than when she left Glee rehearsal. She grabs her water bottle that she had placed in her locker when she first got there. She gulps down a quarter of the bottle before putting it back.

There are many girls around her, yet the only one she’s focused on is Brittany.

Ever since they walked into the locker room, Brittany, and another cheerleader—Hailey was her name—were talking nonstop to one another. It’s not like Santana was eavesdropping, but it’s not her fault they were standing so close and speaking so God damn loudly.

“One time she made a girl cry just because she talked back,” Hailey continues while she brushes her hair in the mirror.

“I know, I was there,” Brittany responds, leaning up against the lockers next to Hailey’s that no one’s using. “Sue can be a bitch sometimes.”

Hailey wraps her hair in a ponytail and starts to put the hair tie around it. “Don’t let her hear you say that she might move you down the pyramid,” she jokes, which gets a laugh out of Brittany. “However, she is the best cheerleading coach McKinley can offer, so I guess we’ll have to put up with it,” Hailey states.

They all know that that’s true, no other teacher will coach the Cheerios, and she’s the only one that’s gotten them to Nationals and gets a pretty big paycheck put towards the cheerleading team.

And listen, Santana doesn’t do jealous, okay? And she’s not. She just doesn’t like Brittany hanging out with another person so closely. And it’s because no one understands her like Santana does is all. And sure, Brittany has other friends, but usually they go through Santana to talk to her, so she knows them, or they’re all in the conversation. This is an entire new person, and they’re jokingtogether, which Brittany can do on her own, of course, but-

“Stop pining and either go talk with them or leave already,” Quinn mutters behind her.

Santana whips around and glares at her, and Quinn smirks.

“Oh, come on, don’t think I didn’t notice.” She walks past Santana to get to her locker, and Santana decides to do what Quinn suggested.

She grabs her water bottle from her locker and makes sure all of her things are put away before she leaves to head home.

***

She can’t be in love with her best friend, right? Sure, she and Brittany are close, and they do practically everything together, and Santana loves everything about Brittany, but that doesn’t mean she’s in love with Brittany.

Those thoughts are how Santana finds herself pacing in her room, not for the first time in the last few days, lost in thought. She looks over at the photos that she has on her walls of all of the Cheerios, but there are a few of either her, Brittany, and Quinn, or just the two of them.

She walks over and picks one up to look at it. She gets the same feeling that she’s been getting every time she thinks about Brittany, yet she’s been ignoring it for a while now. Except this time, she doesn’t. She feels butterflies in her stomach and doesn’t even realize she is smiling at Brittany’s picture. She sets down the photo when she does catch herself, and goes to lay down on her bed.

Even if she was gay, how would she know? Would having feelings that aren’t actually feelings enough to be considered gay? And what would everyone else think? Maybe she should turn to the internet, she thinks. She sits up and grabs her laptop that she keeps on her bedside table and loads it up.

A few searches later she realizes that maybe terms like bisexual or even lesbian fit her. Some more questions pop up in her head after that realization, but at least one thing’s certain.

Santana is in love with her best friend, and she has no idea what she’s going to do about it.

#gleecharactertot2021 #gleetotchallenge2021 #glee #santana lopez #brittany pierce #brittana #sexuality crisis #elliry writes #uefnajnfvedhbfhrsyuhebgveahj

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gellavonhamster · 3 years

Text

cold weapons

Suicide Squad (2016) || Captain Boomerang/Katana || post-canon

ao3 link eng || this was first written and published on ao3 in Russian in 2017 but I didn't attempt to translate it into English back then.

“So, what do you think of them?” Colonel Flag asks.

Tatsu puts the folder containing the rap sheet of Waylon Jones, better known as Killer Croc, on top of three other folders.

“They’re complicated,” she replies after giving it some thought.

The materials in these folders could have formed her first impression about the members of Task Force X – or, as Lawton has aptly put it, the Suicide Squad. Could have, but did not, because they were given their first task earlier than expected. Which is why she doesn’t say “villains” or “scoundrels” or “worst team imaginable” – her first impression of them was formed in combat, and then in an empty bar in Midway City where they all drank together thinking it may be the last drink in their lives. She remembers all of this and says ‘complicated’.

“Very tactful of you,” the colonel chuckles. Then again, what kind of colonel is he now – an unwashed shirt, black circles under the eyes. Just another guy struggling with a deluge of work, a hard-hearted boss, and a troubled relationship with his girlfriend. “But yeah, they definitely aren’t simple,” continues Rick Flag, one of her few friends in the country that will never become her home, and Tatsu cannot suppress a tired smile.

“You like them.”

“They’re… tolerable,” Rick admits, and takes another sip of coffee. Lately he seems to be living only on coffee and whiskey and the verb “must” and (so Tatsu supposes, although they don’t talk about that) the hope that June Moone, who still hasn’t fully recovered from all the horrors she’s been through, will be all right – and will stop isolating herself and avoiding him. These means for not letting yourself just fall down and never get up are far from being reliable, but Tatsu herself lives mostly on revenge and duty and, for that matter, whiskey as well, to a certain degree, so it’s not for her to judge. “Most of them, at least. All of them minus the Australian.”

“At least he’s a good fighter,” Tatsu points out. This is the only good thing she can say about Captain Boomerang with full confidence.

“He’s not cut out for teamwork.”

“When we were fighting the Enchantress, it didn’t look to me like that.”

She does not put much meaning into these words. It’s just that at some point Captain Boomerang saved her, and she saved him – and good thing they’re even, because the last thing she needs is to owe a favour to someone so incompatible with the very concept of duty. She could have said much about the man who tried to escape at the very beginning of the mission and got a teammate killed (and for some reason stood up for El Diablo when Harley Quinn lashed out at him at the bar, and for some reason came back before the battle after trying to desert), but the only thing she’s sure of is that he’s a fine weapon; she can confirm that, being a weapon herself. At the end of the day, that is all that’s required from him.

At the end of the day, that is all that’s required from her, too.

***

It is possible that what she said about Digger Harkness sticks in Rick’s memory, because when the need to comb the area arises during the next mission, he sends the two of them to search through the same building.

“If he gets up to something, do whatever you want to him. No one’s gonna weep for him,” he flings off. This is in the heat of the moment, of course – Boomerang almost got into a fight with Killer Croc on the helicopter over some nonsense. Or rather, it was Croc that almost got into a fight with Boomerang after the latter provoked him. Complicated.

“You heard that, darl?” Boomerang addresses her with a smile so wide as if he hasn’t heard the last remark. “I’m all yours.”

Tatsu looks the other way and pointedly takes her sword out of its sheath – not completely, just a little. No further comments follow, and they part company – Deadshot with Croc, Flag with his team of spec ops, Tatsu with Boomerang – and go on a recce.

In the basement, they discover something that looks like a laboratory – if a place so far from being sanitary may even be called one. All their hopes to move without making a sound crumble as soon as they enter the room: the floor is covered with broken glass. Those who ran the place must have escaped in haste and couldn’t take the entire stock of the serum with them, so they opted to destroy most of it. Tatsu’s attention is immediately drawn to the object on the table in the middle of the room – a metal container with tubes going from it to several smaller vessels. She heads straight for the table, shards crunching underfoot. Boomerang follows her, apparently kicking the largest shards on purpose so that they fly in all directions.

“Looks like a hooch still,” he comments, having come closer, and gives a whistle. “Whoa, fuck, is that blood?”

Compared to the first task of their squad, this one looks almost effortless. Two gangs, the members of one of which possess the formula of the serum that grants superpowers to those who take it. A gun battle, collateral damage, the entire district on lockdown. If a few people weren’t noticed literally floating through the sky, the police would have been handling this. But this is an emergency, which is why they’re here, and the flying gangsters aren’t flying anymore, for Lawton is an exceptionally good shot.

As it turns out, the serum that sparked the conflict is based on metahuman blood – hardly donated voluntarily.

“I’ll contact Colonel Flag,” says Tatsu, eyes locked on the bloodied tubes, and then someone grabs her by the neck.

For the first time in her life, she really has to fight blindly – because her enemy is invisible.

Later, when the dead bodies gradually become visible on the floor like an eerie animated movie, it turns out there were four of them. Before that, Tatsu manages to lose her sword, recapture it, almost choke when an invisible hand squeezes her neck, slash one of the attackers in half, and plunge the blade into another’s stomach. Boomerang takes care of the other two, knocking over the container in the process.

Tatsu is listening to the silence that came after the fight, wondering if any other invisible foes are lurking around the corner, when she feels that something is wrong. Something is wrong with her – she just can't figure out what. Sometimes it happens that one feels unwell but cannot determine what exactly the problem is – she is experiencing something similar now. Until she realizes: the mask. Until she looks up and makes eye contact with Captain Boomerang, who is staring at her and grinning.

“You lost anything, doll?” Harkness inquires innocently, with an emphasis on the last word, and his smile grows even wider and cockier.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. The invisible man she fought hand to hand tore off her mask, and she didn’t even notice. But her partner, blast him, did – and picked it up.

“Give it back,” Tatsu demands, hand outstretched. She feels naked. In combat, during the mission, she is Katana, a single whole with her sword. A cold weapon. No one needs to see her face. Truly, if she was wearing only the mask and nothing else, she would have felt less exposed – all right, this is an overstatement, and she doesn’t even want to imagine such a situation. Meanwhile, Boomerang is in no hurry to return the mask.

“What did ya call me when that fucker was about to stab me?” he asks. Tatsu clenches the sword hilt. There is no telling how many enemies drunk on the magic serum are hiding in this house, and he’s dawdling. “You said…”

Damn it, what did she say? She saw one of the invisibles creeping up on him while he was fighting another – a bloodstain was floating through the air. She shouted…

“I said ‘George’”. Isn’t your name George Harkness?”

“You bet it is. It’s just weird. Most people don’t call me George, y’know.”

“How do they call you then?”

“Digger. Boomerang. Boomer. That Prick. All sorts of things, but never George. But you,” he winks, “can call me whatever ya want. I liked the way you say my name.”

“Give. Me. The mask.”

“And the magic word?”

“I will chop your hand off,” as a proof of her intentions, she puts the blade against his extended hand that is holding her mask. In fact, she would face no consequences for doing so. No one’s gonna weep for him.

Harkness makes a helpless gesture and hands her the mask.

“Can’t say no to you, luv.”

The mask helps her conceal her identity, but what is more important is that it helps her conceal needless emotions. Tatsu really hopes that her facial expression isn’t giving away that she’s ill at ease now. This is a weakness; weaknesses are not to be demonstrated. She feels deeply relieved when she puts the mask back on.

“Let’s get out of here,” she commands, turns around, and heads for the exit. Harkness trails behind.

“It ain’t fair, by the way. You know my real name, but I don’t know yours,” he muses. “Care to introduce yourself, eh?”

He asks the same question at least three times more before they return to Belle Reve, and each time she ignores him.

***

A week later, he still doesn’t know her name – but he learns something else.

They do away with the last members of the recent gang on the outskirts of the city. Both wretches have overused the unfortunate serum, in keeping with the best traditions of the clichéd movies about superheroes and supervillains that Hollywood keeps producing for some reason, even though it is more and more often possible to see nearly the same thing on the news. As a result, one of them got puffed up almost to the size of the creature that Superman died fighting, and the other couldn’t control the flames bursting from his mouth. He burned half of the shopping centre with customers, retail workers, and guards. With teenagers in the bowling alley on the second floor and children in the playroom on the first.

Santana… wouldn’t have approved.

Both problems eliminated, they leave: the firefighters and the cops will take it from here. Flag’s spec ops stay behind, because officially it is their victory; the general public shouldn’t know about the existence of Task Force X. Through backyards, they retreat in the direction of the abandoned construction site on the other side of the street; a car has been sent to pick them up there.

There is a workers’ trailer still standing by the construction pit. The door is not locked, and Rick, Deadshot, Croc, and Boomerang go inside. Jones’s arm is broken: his inhuman strength notwithstanding, he still was no match for his enemy – not the fire-breather, but the other one. Tatsu leaves them to figure out how to make a temporary sling, and wanders away. Not far from the trailer, a piece of tarpaulin stretched over the fence has come off, and she can see the building across the street. Tatsu sits down on the ground, puts her arms around her knees, and stares at the dandelions growing by the fence.

In her head, flames are raging.

She doesn’t look up, neither when she hears the footsteps approaching, nor when Harkness – and it is him, no one else in the Squad reeks of the mixture of booze and cologne like that – sits down next to her and cracks open a can of beer.

“You want some?” he nudges her. What extraordinary generosity. It is, however, perfectly possible that if she says yes, he’ll reply along the lines of “Well, then go and buy yourself some.”

“No,” Tatsu replies without looking and, after a short pause, adds, “Thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

With a sigh, she accepts the can from his hands, and takes a sip.

“This is disgusting,” she whispers, and takes another.

Harkness just snorts and opens another one. For a little while, they sit side by side in silence, drinking each from their own can, and study the wall opposite through the mesh of the fence – like out of a prison window. Old advertisements that are half torn off, graffiti, a writing proclaiming that life fucks us all – plenty of things to stare at to avoid looking the person next to you in the eye.

“So what the hell happened to ya?” Boomerang asks, and suddenly she could do with some serum for invisibility or, better yet, disappearing completely. Naturally, it is a fleeting impulse; she has no right to disappear. She has obligations – towards Flag, towards Waller. Towards herself.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? You zoned out, Flag shouted himself hoarse before you heard him. Like you were someplace else. Didn’t ya?”

Why do you need to know? Tatsu thinks. If she almost rushed headlong into the fire, it’s her own business. If it only seemed to her that someone was there, it’s her own business. If she’s going to see things that aren’t there for the rest of her life, it’s her own business. He shouldn't have spoken. There is something comforting about being silent together.

“Nah, you don’t have to say if you don’t wanna,” Boomerang assents, and takes another pull on his can. “I just thought that you, well. Might wanna talk to someone.”

And they fall silent again. Yet now Tatsu feels awkward, which makes her angry at herself. She’s not obliged to pour out her heart to anyone who shows something that looks like care.

This silence doesn’t make it any easier.

“I have… bad memories,” she finally says. Now it won’t be as awkward: she answered his question. It won’t be, right? “About a fire”.

Harkness nods, looking at her attentively.

“Someone you knew died, aye?”

“My children,” she hears herself say, and wishes to disappear again.

“Fuck,” Boomerang says, embarrassed, and – unbelievable – looks like he actually feels bad about starting this conversation. “I’m sorry, I… well, uh, I had no idea.”

“It’s okay,” Tatsu says mechanically. Nothing is okay: she can still see Yuki’s tear-stained face, still hear Reiko’s voice, she is still watching the flames run up the curtains that she and Maseo picked together, she is still breathing in the smoke and still cannot believe she deserves a gulp of fresh air. She should have saved them. All of them.

Boomerang looks at her incredulously but doesn’t say anything, and bit by bit, the silence that she doesn’t want to run from returns – the kind of silence in which one is not alone.

Then there are footsteps again, and Flag approaches them.

“There you are,” he says with relief as soon as he sees her. Rick does not let himself overstep the limits of formality – they’re on a mission, after all – but he has obviously been worried. At the sight of Harkness, he frowns warily. “You! Quit getting on her nerves.”

“Who’s gettin’ on her nerves, Colonel? I was just tryin’ to help,” Harkness protests. It appears Rick’s words have wounded him a little.

“He was,” Tatsu says. “It’s all under control, Colonel Flag.”

Flag shifts his gaze to her and then to Boomerang again, and nods.

“Okay. In any case… follow me. We’re leaving.”

Tatsu gives her unfinished beer to Boomerang.

“Don’t talk about this to anyone,” she tells him. This might be an order or a request; she doesn’t really know.

He nods, and she thinks absentmindedly: who would have thought this man knows how to make a solemn face.

“Thank you,” she says again, hoping that he understands that this is not just about the beer or his promise to keep his mouth shut.

***

After a few days, Tatsu comes to visit him. In prison.

Actually, she comes to visit all of them, of course. Not more than fifteen minutes alone with each of them – Waller wouldn’t allow more. This request seems to have surprised her, but Tatsu is certain that Waller is already picturing the new threads she can use to manipulate her special operations puppets. So it is possible that one day this decision will blow up in Tatsu’s face – or in the faces of all of them. But she cannot shake off the feeling that she must do this – so that someone except Rick, who is already dealing with a lot these days, would notice in time if the inmates are treated with undeserved cruelty. So that she knows what’s on their minds, because it is safer to fight side by side with the people whose line of thought she can understand at least roughly. So that there is some kind of variety in their lives between the missions.

This is why she visits all three of them. Killer Croc, who looks like he’s not surprised to see her in the slightest and doesn’t really seems to care that she came, but doesn’t have any issue with that either. Deadshot, who looks like he is surprised, but doesn’t seem to mind answering her questions when she notices a stack of letters in the corner and asks him how his daughter is doing. And Captain Boomerang, who, when she enters his cell, looks like he can’t figure out if he’s dreaming.

“Katana?” he frowns perplexedly. He’s stripped to his waist, so she can see a couple of fresh scars he brought back from the last mission, and he’s got a black eye – when Tatsu saw him last, he had not. Must have quarrelled with the guards again. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.”

For a moment he seems not to understand what she just said. Then he breaks into a smile – or rather a grin, wide and pleased. Very pleased.

“Aha! Knew it would end up like this,” he pronounces in triumph.

“Like this?”

“You,” he looks like he’s just proven a theorem of immense complexity, “missed me.”

“I haven’t missed you, Captain.”

A very, very pleased grin.

“And still you’re here.”

“I visited Deadshot and Killer Croc earlier,” Tatsu says, and sees his facial expression change instantly. Not for long: the grin is quick to return, and she wouldn’t be able to tell right away that he’s disappointed.

“Did ya now? And how are our fellas doing? Better than me, I reckon?”

“So it would seem. Did you fight the guards?”

“Why do you care, gorgeous?”

Indeed, why does she? Most likely, he picked a fight himself – and got his just deserts.

“Make up your mind,” Tatsu says, “if you think that I missed you or that I don’t care.”

Harkness chuckles and really seems to ponder over this for a while.

“Beats me,” he concludes at last. “Care to throw some light on it?”

No, Tatsu thinks, I don’t get it myself and I’m not sure I want to.

Instead of answering, she comes closer to him – so close that she can smell his sweat – and studies his face. She has to look up to be able to do that, which must look comical. Then again, he’s hardly stupid enough to laugh at her height or anything else about her, especially when she’s armed and he is not.

“You lost a tooth. What happened?”

“Didn’t get along with one of the Wall’s watchdogs.”

“You could have tried not to look for trouble for a change,” all of a sudden, Tatsu realizes that she’s mad. Really mad at him. They might get dragged to another mission this instant; whether they like it or not, they have to be in good enough shape to protect the society that the most of them have to atone before at least partially. They shouldn’t spend their energy and health on nonsense. Black eyes and knocked-out teeth are nothing, but it mustn’t come to any of them being out of action when all of them are needed. All their powers, all their skills. All the anger they should rather aim at something other than the people who can just press a certain button at any point – and dispose of the wilful weapon.

Boomerang bares his teeth – not like Croc, of course, but still threateningly. He looks dangerous now – big, sturdy, more than a head taller than her. But he still isn’t more dangerous than her – and both of them are aware of that.

“And they could have tried,” he speaks through his teeth, “not to talk shit about my mother for a change. They wanna talk shit about me, they can knock themselves out. I’ve heard enough ‘bout myself, I don’t give a flying fuck about what else they gonna say. But they’d better leave my mother out of it.”

So that’s what it is. They have found a quick and easy way to infuriate the man who has “MUM” tattooed on his chest. In uneven letters, like a child's handwriting. Tatsu noticed that tattoo as soon as she came in but didn’t look too closely at it. Now she feels like she has the right to look, to let her gaze slip lower, at the ridiculous writing that heaves with each furious breath of his, and then to avert her eyes at once.

“They have power, and you have nothing,” she says. “Do you enjoy being their plaything?”

“Oh, so I’m a plaything, darl? And do I have much choice who to be now? In these four walls, and,” Boomerang points at his neck, at the place where a bomb is implanted under his skin, “with this crap in my neck?”

Tatsu looks up again, right him in the eye.

“You already know who you are,” she tells him. “You’re a weapon. Broken weapons get discarded. And you’re letting them break you.”

He stays silent, just looks at her in an odd manner, as if she’s speaking another language but he has a vague understanding of what she’s saying and doesn’t like what he just heard – because it is the truth.

Tatsu still doesn’t understand why she cares, and with each passing minute she has less and less desire to learn why.

“Also,” she continues, “if you call me ‘darl’ or ‘gorgeous’ one more time, you’re going to regret opening your mouth.”

“Yeah? And how should I call ya?”

“Katana.”

“What, and that’s all? Nah, we might be weapons,” and she probably ought to remind him that there is no ‘we’, but in this particular case he’s right. Perhaps that is why Tatsu feels drawn to all of them: they’re cut from the same cloth, “but we’re alive as well. So far. Seriously, what’s yer real name? You know mine.”

“I should not disclose that.”

“Oh, come on. Listen,” he breaks into a pleased grin again. Another theorem proven. “How about a deal? You tell me yer name, and I will try to keep my temper if anyone else decides to stir me up. What do ya think?”

“As if you’re going to keep your word.”

Boomerang makes a show of putting his hand over his heart.

“For you, ma’am… anything.”

For you. All at once, she recalls Rick’s words: do whatever you want to him. How many minutes of the visit she has already spent on this predictably fruitless conversation?

“My name is Tatsu Yamashiro,” she says, tired, and then he smiles – not the way he did before, but in a calmer and more sincere manner. Gratefully.

“George Harkness,” he offers her his hand with an earnest air. “Nice to meet ya.”

Tatsu hesitantly offers him hers. Her hand looks very small and fragile against his huge paw, and he must be thinking the same because the handshake comes out very careful. He could easily break her wrist. She could easily kill him with one hand afterwards. But he holds her hand gently in his warm, pleasantly calloused palm, and Tatsu hastens to take her hand away, because this is a mistake of an even worse kind than the time he saw her without the mask.

“So you promise not to fights the guards.”

“I promise to try,” Harkness assures, but he’s keeping one hand behind his back.

“Don’t cross your fingers,” Tatsu says sternly. Real mature.

With a sigh, Boomerang repeats his promise, this time holding his hands within her view.

“But I ain’t promisin’ not to call you gorgeous,” he declares in the end.

“You know my name now.”

“But you’re still gorgeous.”

“Time’s up!” shouts the guard outside the door, and Tatsu cannot help feeling relieved that she has to go. She doesn’t regret visiting him, but all of this is too strange and awkward, and both of them might be weapons, but her position is different from his, and it is better not to forget that.

“Can I do anything for you?” she asks him on parting.

“Well,” Boomerang smirks. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“With something I would actually agree to do?”

“Come again. Will ya?” This time he isn’t flirting; this time she can feel his insecurity, even shyness. As if he doesn’t like to admit to himself that what she answers is really important to him.

“I’ll try,” she says cautiously. She’s not going to make any promises: she asked Waller about one time only. She doubts if she’ll be allowed to visit them again – to visit him again.

“Try,” Harkness repeats, as if weighing the word on his tongue. “This means no.”

“This means I’ll try,” Tatsu says firmly.

And she comes again in a week. And the week after next. And a week after that.

***

“Why didn’t you walk away in Midway City?” Tatsu asks him once. “When Rick broke the control panel. You left then; why did you return?”

A lot of water has flowed under the bridge since the time Captain Boomerang dared to smart off Amanda Waller. Several successful missions, slightly more respectful attitude on his part – and his cell already bears a passing resemblance to a place for living, even if for living quite miserably. Now there is even a table, and a chair that she gets to sit on as guest privilege. Harkness is sitting on the floor opposite her. The question seems to catch him unawares, but only for a moment.

“Huh? Why did I return? Gotta live up to my name, that’s why. Have you ever thrown a boomerang, luv?”

I’m going to throw you somewhere one day, Tatsu thinks, yet without much irritation.

“And jokes aside?”

Boomerang attempts to feign an offended sigh.

“How do ya think? Plenty of options, all right. You gonna try to guess which one?”

Tatsu frowns.

“Is this a psychoanalysis session? Were you bitten by Harley Quinn?”

“Nah, Blondie didn’t bite me, I would’ve remembered. So don’t be jealous,” his voice gets playful again, and Tatsu stifles the urge to roll her eyes. “Lookie here… suppose I suddenly realized that I can’t leave you guys! ‘Cause you’re my mates. One for all, and so on. Don’t believe me?”

“You said something about plenty of options. What are the rest of them?”

He scratches his chin thoughtfully.

“We-e-ell… the second, ‘course, is that I wanted to save the world. Not that the world smiles upon me every bloody day, but I still wanna live! And for everyone an’ their mother to know that the bastards like us can also be heroes. Don’t you like being one of the good guys, eh, Tatsu?”

“I’m not ‘one of the good guys’”, Tatsu protests. “And it’s not me that we’re talking about. Any other options?”

“There was no point in leaving. That was still gonna be the end of the world, aye? So I’d rather meet it in battle and in good company than on the run. All the same it’ll be the end. There you go.”

He stops talking, and in the silence that falls Tatsu can hear the footsteps of the guards in the corridor. Once again she wonders what the duty attendants that monitor everything through the surveillance cameras think of their conversations. They must make for the strangest and most pointless reality show ever.

“The third one,” she says.

Boomerang looks a bit disappointed.

“Why?”

“Not the first one, because none of us meant anything to you then. You had just met us. And it didn’t seem like you were upset about letting Slipknot down,” Tatsu explains. She doesn’t intend to offend him – she’s just saying the truth. Once, he claimed it himself that they understand each other – here’s some understanding, he’s welcome. “Not the second one either, because you’re not stupid – no, stop smiling. You never believed that if people like us stop the Enchantress, someone would learn about that. Only the third option remains.”

Harkness nods slowly.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and his eyes turn pensive, abstracted, as if he is there again, in the night city frozen in anticipation of the apocalypse. As if he sees himself – and makes a choice once again. “And that’s what happened in the end, didn’t it?”

“So the third option, then?”

“So it is.”

But something in his face makes Tatsu think that he was hoping for a different answer.

***

Time flies; weeks and months go by. Tatsu spends them fighting, spilling someone else’s blood, occasionally drinking with Flag at a bar or in his apartment – a bachelor’s home again; reading books – most of the plots seem too naïve and unimaginative compared to what goes on in her life, and that is even for the best, and visiting the members of the Suicide Squad in Belle Reve. Some people go clubbing Friday evenings, and she goes to prison Friday afternoons.

“Don’t get attached to them,” Rick scolds her.

“That is rich coming from you,” Tatsu replies, and he has enough self-awareness not to argue. Lest he gets offended, she chooses not to tell him that sometimes she and Lawton talk a little about him good-naturedly behind his back.

During one of her visits, Harkness raises a topic she has totally forgotten about.

“Hey, come to think of it, we never had that drink,” he points out. Tatsu doesn’t understand what he’s talking about, and it must be written all over her face, because he continues. “Remember I asked you out for a drink? In Midway City, before we fought the witch.”

Tatsu has to make an effort to remember: indeed, he said something of the sort, but it never occurred to her to take those words seriously.

“We had a drink,” she counters. “When… when you shared your beer with me.”

He shakes his head, dissatisfied.

“At the construction site? That’s bollocks. I’m talking a proper bar… nah, a restaurant! With crystal glasses an’ candles an’ shit… Like normal people.”

“Candles,” Tatsu mumbles. She tries to imagine the two of them at the table at a restaurant; the picture turns out pretty absurd. On the other hand, a lot of what has happened in her life during the past few years can be deemed absurd.

“Yeah. Candles,” echoes Harkness, and continues with a crooked smile, “well, that’s me jokin’ around. In the near future,” he gestures in the direction of the small barred window of his cell, “I won’t be able to take you even to a fucking McDonald’s.”

They don’t talk about the hypothetical dinners at a restaurant anymore, but the absurd picture stays with Tatsu, who still feels somehow indebted to Boomerang – for no reason, as she keeps telling herself – for that conversation at the construction site. She doesn’t like to feel the weight of unpaid debts on her shoulders – yes, that’s what it is about.

One day, she finds a way to pay that debt back.

***

She waits for him in the car outside the prison gate. She hears him first; she cannot make out what exactly he is yelling at the guards, but that surely isn’t ‘good evening’. Then the door of the jeep is open, and someone must have kicked him in the rear because he literally falls into the car. Tatsu shrinks back on instinct.

Then Harkness looks up – and notices her.

“Katana?.. Hey, what the hell’s going on? They didn’t let me take the boomerangs, didn’t let me take anything…”

“Close the door,” Tatsu tells him, and when he, still confused, obeys, tells the driver, “Let’s go.”

The car pulls away.

“I still don’t get what’s happening,” Harkness reminds her. “Sure, I’m happy to see ya, but… you weren’t ordered to take me to the woods and finish me off under the radar, huh?”

“If Waller wanted to get rid of you, she would have had you killed in your own cell, and that’s all.”

“Wow, thanks for honesty. So where are we going?”

“To a restaurant,” Tatsu says, and turns away. Yet again it crosses her mind that it is a terrible idea.

“A restaurant?” Harkness drawls quizzically.

“As far as I recall, you said that the beer at the construction site is ‘bollocks’.”

She should turn back to him, of course. The problem is that Tatsu is ninety-nine per cent sure that if she meets his eye now, she will blush. And she is by no means going to give him any sign that might be interpreted as taking an interest… of a certain kind. She has already blundered more than a few times.

Therefore she stubbornly keeps looking out of the window. Then again, she doesn’t even need to look to picture how his facial expression is changing now; she’s seen this rakish grin enough times.

“Holy cow. Tatsu, are you serious? We’re really just going to a restaurant? We’re getting outta this shithole where they only give us porridge with rat crap to gorge ourselves on lobsters and drink wine? Oh, fuck me sideways,” in the end, she turns to him and sees him throw back his head and burst into laughter, narrowing his eyes happily. “I’ll be damned! Am I dreaming? I must be dreaming. Pinch me.”

“I can assure you you’re not,” Tatsu says, and realizes that she is also starting to smile despite herself. She has visited him and the others in Belle Reve often enough to know that porridge with rat crap, unfortunately, is far from being just a figure of speech. After such a diet, a meal at a restaurant must seem like the pinnacle of happiness.

Boomerang shakes his head, apparently still unable to believe her.

“Holy fucking shit. How did you do that? How do you even do all that? I’ve told ya you’re unreal, have I?”

“Yes, you have,” Tatsu confirms patiently. And more than once – too often for her to attach great importance to it, too fervently for it not to please her at all. “Let’s put it that way: this is Waller paying me for a… favour.”

“A favour, then. I take it a lot of some poor suckers died?”

“No,” she shakes her head. And it is true – but there still was a lot of blood. Both the man Waller indicated and his bodyguards turned out to be worthy adversaries. The whole thing went not as smoothly as she wanted it to – not that she wanted to; not that she would kill another person she knows nothing about if she could help it. Nothing to assure her: this one deserves it. Everything turned out rather… nasty. She had to burn the bodies. Then she got home in a haze, tended to a couple of fresh wounds – or rather, just scratches. And then she went to the bathroom and spent a long time soaping herself, as if the invisible filth that bothered her the most could be washed off with shower gel.

Afterwards, she rummaged through her modest wardrobe and dug out the only dress she has about in America. Nothing special: wine red, below the knee length, sleeveless but with a pretty high neckline – very demure. The first and so far the last dress she bought after… after. If she and Rick didn’t have to accompany Amanda Waller to some event once, she wouldn’t have bought this one either. She put it on, combed her hair, still wet after the shower, with her fingers, looked at herself in the mirror – and flew into a rage, pulled off the dress, and could barely stop herself from tearing it to shreds. Restaurant or not, what does it matter? The last thing she needs is for him to think she dressed up for him.

So the situation might be a little less absurd than it could have been. Both of them look like they’re going on another mission with the others, only she isn’t wearing her mask – he has already seen her face anyway – and he isn’t wearing his ever-present coat. It is no wonder he wasn’t allowed to take it – Waller wasn’t going to let him out of Belle Reve armed, and to let him wear his coat would probably be as unwise as to hand him all his boomerangs. Tatsu has no doubt that everyone and their dog have already searched through the personal belongings of the Squad, but she wouldn’t be surprised to learn that somewhere in his inside pockets Harkness has as many boomerangs as he is listed as having officially. She witnessed this man produce from his bosom at least four different lighters, a massive stack of dollars, a pocket knife, small binoculars, flat-nose pliers, and a toy unicorn. She has to admit: sometimes she doesn’t understand how he even does all that either.

It appears that the thoughts of Captain Boomerang also turn to the contents of his pockets.

“Hey, how the hell are we affording this, though? Make no mistake, I’d stand treat, but my stash is in the coat, and these assholes didn’t let me take it, y’know.”

“Don’t worry about that. Waller is paying for everything,” she explains, unable to suppress a grin, because this part, possibly the most unbelievable part of the entire affair, gives her a sort of silly, spiteful joy. Task Force X is a comparatively recent project, but they’ve already cleaned up so much mess for Amanda Waller that Heracles and his labours don’t even come close. A dinner at a restaurant is the least thing she could offer them. So when Boomerang explodes with laughter and gives her a conspiratorial wink, she looks him right in the eye and smiles. Another mistake. Then again, this is not the first time they share a secret.

He puts his hand on her knee, and she shakes it off immediately; this is way too far.

“I see you took your sword with ya,” Harkness observes, not giving any sign that something didn’t go the way he wanted.

“I am to keep an eye on you.”

“Yeah. How about…” he leans in closer, and the smell of cologne blasts up Tatsu’s nose. She can only hope it is due to external use only, “we chop off his head,” he nods at the driver, “and drive the fuck away from this? Huh?”

The driver, who can definitely hear everything, doesn’t turn, but Tatsu notices him tense up.

“You’re kidding,” she says dryly. He may be, or he may be not – with Digger Harkness, one cannot always tell.

“Why kidding, doll? Zip, and done. There’s no way you enjoy working for Waller.”

“I do not. But if you pull some stunt,” Tatsu feels for the sword hilt, and Boomerang sees that – very well, it is good for him to see that, “I will chop your head off. I really hope it won’t come to that.”

“And what’s it to you? Scared of me? But I’m unarmed,” he claps himself on the chest demonstratively, implying that he has no weapons on him. “Why do you care if it does?”

“I just wouldn’t like to do that,” she says firmly, and it’s true. It works well; he doesn’t even mention running away for the remainder of the day.

This might be the strangest evening in her life.

Waller’s man drives them to a French restaurant whose name she cannot read but is almost sure that the phrase was chosen solely because it sounds impressive. They are let in through the back door, so no one among the other guests, who are sporting evening dresses and suits, pays any attention to her crop top and sword or to his… appearance in general. Their table is one of those located in alcoves, away from prying eyes, but Tatsu feels they are being watched. Which means Waller doesn’t trust her too much – well, she can understand that. She is part of a special team composed of deranged madmen, and she must admit she likes these deranged madmen more than she likes certain normal people known to her. Of course, she is Flag’s right-hand woman, but it is most likely that Waller doesn’t trust Flag either. It is doubtful whether there are any people in this world that she trusts at all.

Waller is rich. Their little feast will not shatter her wealth, all the more so since the restaurant she sent them to is not the most luxurious. But they still have a field day ordering loads of food and a bottle of the most expensive wine on the menu.

“To honour among thieves?” she suggests, when they raise their glasses for the first time.

“Didn’t ya say yer not a thief?”

“That is true,” she admits, and adds inwardly, I’m a killer.

In the end, they drink to the Suicide Squad. Then to Lawton and Jones, currently languishing in their cells. Then to Zoe Lawton, who is acting in a school play next week. To a lot of things. He asks her about her life here, in America. At some point she finds herself trying to explain to him what taiyaki is, and him telling her about banana sandwiches, and she can’t remember why they started talking about this at all. The bottle becomes empty, and another appears as if by itself.

They don’t talk about the past. They don’t talk about the future, because there might be no future at all – they can’t know for sure, what with their way of life. That evening, Tatsu laughs and thinks: good thing I’m drunk – it almost gets easier for a while.

When it’s time to leave, Harkness gets pig-headed.

“Whoa, no, no, no. Already? It’s too early, are you kiddin’ me?” he booms out when they exit the restaurant. He protests, but she drags him by the hand and he stumbles along after all, treading heavily like a dancing bear. “Let’s go someplace else, luv. Look at the pretty stars.”

“We are already late. And you… you have to go back to jail,” Tatsu tells him. The stars are pretty indeed, but she regrets looking up at them, because her head begins to spin. Thankfully, she isn’t wearing high heels. Thankfully, she doesn’t have any high-heeled shoes at all, or she could have been possessed to wear them. “Sorry,” she adds when they get into the car and set off. “There is no other way.”

“Back to jail,” Boomerang repeats with disgust. Sprawling on the seat, he unzips his hoodie, and Tatsu is swept over by the smell of cologne again. Weirdly, it doesn’t annoy her as much as at the beginning of the evening. “I’m a fucking Cinderella. I’m not back by midnight, they turn me into a pumpkin.”

“Cinderella,” Tatsu echoes, and giggles: everything is way funnier now. The driver makes a sudden turn, and she is literally thrown at Boomerang. Her cheek presses to his chest – and stays there. Tatsu feels drunk and sated and drunk again, and sleepy too, and he makes for a decent pillow, and she can’t make herself move away.

“Oh, you think it’s funny,” Harkness mutters with mock offence in his voice. It seems he’s about to fall asleep too. “Well, go on, laugh.”

They drive back in silence, and through the drowse Tatsu feels the warm arm around her waist and thinks: good thing I’m drunk, I can pretend I’m asleep.

The road to Belle Reve is long, but it still feels like they reach it too quickly.

“Inmate,” calls one of the guards, “get out.”

Harkness, his eyes still closed, moans with discontent.

“Captain Boomerang,” Tatsu says softly, freeing herself from his embrace. “It’s time.”

There is nothing to be done. He’s already about to step out of the jeep, when he suddenly moves closer to her again.

“Hey, darlin’,” he says, looking her right in the eye. “Aren’t ya forgetting something?”

It takes her some time to realize what he means: he must be expecting her to kiss him. All at once she remembers everything that has happened this evening, and awful shame washes over her: it is no wonder he’s expecting that to happen.

“Inmate, get out!”

She shrinks back.

“Good night, Captain,” she tells him as dryly as she can. He looks wounded but says nothing, and almost obediently lets the guards escort him back to his cell. Tatsu closes her eyes and rubs her temples wearily. Tomorrow she is going to regret drinking so much. She already does – and that’s not the only thing she regrets.

She has to stop seeing him.

***

At first, she even succeeds. Next Friday Tatsu, as always, goes to Belle Reve to see the Squad – all of them save for Harkness. She feels sick at heart because if she did promise him anything, it was to visit him, and now she’s going back on her word because of her own stupid weakness. But there is no other way.

“He asked about you,” Waylon tells her a week later, when she brings him the latest issue of Playboy. Tatsu almost doesn’t feel weird anymore when buying it, and doesn’t try to imagine anymore what the news stand clerks think when she pays them for it. Such periodicals cause her a feeling of light disgust, but Croc, who gets let out of jail only to be thrown into another trouble spot, deserves at least some small joys.

“Who?”

Waylon, no doubt observant like all the quiet ones tend to be, bares his impressive teeth.

“You know who.”

It seems a logical solution to give up on these visits at all – but in that case she would betray all of them. Perhaps this little tradition is much more important to her than it is to the prisoners, but Tatsu is almost sure that it means something to them as well. She has no right to deprive the rest of them of this bit of understanding, companionship, normalcy because she wasn’t smart enough to stop the game she and Boomerang started before it became too late.

At home – not that the apartment she’s renting here deserves to be called ‘home’ – she, unable to fall asleep, unsheathes the sword and runs the tips of her fingers along the cool blade. A tender, habitual movement – like touching the cheek of a loved one.

“I’ve lost my way, Maseo,” whispers Tatsu. The place where the souls of the people struck down by this blade are trapped is still a mystery to her, but she knows that Maseo will come as soon as she calls him – as a voice from afar, as nebulous shapes in the swirls of smoke, as the peace and safety granted by the presence of someone dear. “I’m afraid of my own heart.”

I know your heart, Tatsu. You have nothing to be afraid of.

“It makes me act rashly. Makes me succumb to false feelings.”

I know your heart, Tatsu, and it incapable of falsehood.

Only the ones that are already far away can speak so vaguely and with such unrelenting honesty at the same time.

“I will always love you,” she whispers ardently. Not because she doesn’t want him to think it is not so; not because she herself feels like it is not so anymore either. She knows for sure that she is always going to love him, for she loved him as a lover, as a husband, as the father of her children, as the only thing she had left after all her life fell apart, burned in that damned fire. He will stay in her heart until her last breath – even if she has to close her heart to the rest of the world. Once she used to think that after all she’s been through, it isn’t going to be an issue.

And I will always love you, her husband replies, and Tatsu blinks back tears with a deep sigh.

“I just wish you were alive,” she tells him for what must be the hundredth, or maybe a thousandth time.

If he was with her – not as smoke or a voice, but as flesh and blood – he probably would have kissed her gently on the nape of her neck, as he often used to do.

I just wish, says her husband – no, the soul of her husband, which is already rushing away, deep into the world she shouldn’t hurry to go to if she doesn’t want this sword to fall into wrong hands, that you were happy.

***

Literally the next day there is a message from Metropolis that some giant snake-like beast is terrorizing the city and devouring people. The monster was last seen crawling into the building of the opera – which is where their squad heads to after reaching the city.

“Look at that freak,” Harkness comments in a low voice. The creature is curled up slumbering on stage, and they are watching it from the catwalks above. “Not a family of yours by any chance, eh, ‘gator?’

Waylon steps towards him, and the planks creak under his feet, threatening to break.

“Say that again,” he growls.

Tatsu bares her sword and wedges herself between them. Waylon backs off reluctantly.

“Knock it off,” she tells Boomerang. It feels like everything has come full circle – the day Harkness picked up her mask, he also had a run-in with Jones. The day they were sent to fight the Enchantress, she also put the blade of her sword under his chin. Why did she even think something would change?

“Oh, so you’re talking to me after all?”

“Enough,” Tatsu hisses. She really wants to try to explain everything to him. Maybe if she tries to put her feelings into words, many things will become clear to her, too. But if he thinks they are going to discuss this now, he is mistaken.

On the neighbouring catwalk, Rick is looking at them in a rage, gesturing both of them to shut up. Harkness steps closer; now the blade of the Soultaker is within a hair’s breadth away from his neck. A single careless movement, and blood will be spilled. A wild idea crosses her mind: it looks as if he’s into this. Tatsu licks her lips.

“Y’know,” Boomerang begins, lowering his head a little so that it is easier for him to look her in the eye, “I think you’re scared of me. Or of yourself, hell if I know. Am I right?”

A loud rustle comes from beneath, and the next instant the monster bites through the middle of the catwalk they’re standing on, and both of them are falling down. Tatsu manages to grab some rope, but when she tries to climb it, her hands slip, and she comes tumbling down.

The fall is far from being soft, even though she falls on the tatters of the curtain, which the snake must have torn earlier. She is lucky not to hurt her head, but her left leg and hip are aching. Only the awareness that there is no time to lie around makes her summon up all her strength and get up. Her sword is nowhere to be seen, and Tatsu is overwhelmed by fury: now she is useless.

The snake roars and shakes its head, trying to shake off Croc, who is trying to bite through its scales. Rick is shooting at the monster from above, and Deadshot, who is already on stage somehow, is doing the same from below, dodging the blows of its tail. Tatsu sweeps her eyes weakly over the stage and suddenly notices a hole broken in it. At the very edge of the hole, the hilt of her sword is sticking out of the floor. Moving as quickly as it is possible to do that with a limp, Tatsu hurries there.

The moment she pulls the sword out of the stage, Harkness’s head pokes out of the hole. Not waiting for him to ask for help, Tatsu helps him get out.

“Are you…” both of them begin in unison and drop it immediately, because the snake has managed to shake off the bothersome little crocodile – who is hopefully just somewhere on the floor and not in its belly – and is moving towards them, slower than before but still pretty speedily. They scatter, and Tatsu charges at the monster with her sword drawn. Harkness throws a boomerang at the creature, aiming at its eye, but it dodges at the last second.

Eventually, with joint forces they manage to kill the beast. To be on the safe side, Lawton fires a round into its open jaws. The long body shudders one last time and falls still. For some time, the five of them stand there looking at it.

“Where could this thing even come from?” Rick mutters.

“Remember what the Wicked Witch of the West said when she tried to get us to join her? The world is changing, the time of magic has come, blah, blah, blah,” Lawton reminds him. Rick nods absentmindedly; these are not happy memories.

Jones kicks the dead snake.

“Maybe it meant no harm,” he points out in his deep voice.

“Croc,” Rick says wearily, “it ate people.”

“So did I.”

“But at least you didn’t chew the curtain at the opera like a disgraced diva?” Lawton asks, struggling not to grin.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Well, then it’s okay.”

Rick titters nervously, and the next instant all of them are shaking with laughter.

Tatsu is drinking water straight from the tap in the restroom, when Harkness comes in.

“This is a ladies’ room,” she says reflexively.

“Hey, I just wanna wash my face, is all.”

Without waiting for her to answer, he comes closer and starts washing at the neighbouring sink. Tatsu casts a sidelong look at him and notices that the water is turning red.

“Show me your face,” she orders.

“It’s not a bad face, what’s yer problem?”

“I’m serious.”

He rolls his eyes, but stands still while she examines his face, only wincing when she dabs at the cut on his forehead with a paper towel.

“Just a scratch,” he assures at once.

“Just a scratch,” Tatsu agrees. She scrunches up the towel and throws it into the sink. She would like to keep her hand on his face, pretending that she’s still wiping off the blood, but she’s done pretending.

“How about you?” Boomerang asks quietly.

“Fine. A couple of bruises. You were lucky today,” she says just as quietly, and takes off her mask. Tomorrow they might not be as lucky. “I’m happy for you.”

“And I’m happy you got out alive… darl.”

For a moment she wants him to ruin everything. To reply with a jibe, to crack another dirty joke, to try to grab and kiss her only to get smacked. Not to stand motionless in front of her like he’s afraid to scare her off. It occurred to her once that from the outside their relationship might look like an attempt to tame a wild animal. Perhaps this is a mutual process.

Do whatever you want to him.

She stands up on tiptoes and kisses him.

For an instant, Harkness freezes – possibly trying to figure out again if he’s dreaming – and then pulls her closer and kisses back. Drinks her hungrily, like this is both the first time and the last. Bearing in mind what their lives are like, it really might be the last.

Tatsu doesn’t immediately realize why she suddenly doesn’t need to stand on tiptoes anymore.

“Put me down–” she starts, but gives up and wraps her legs around his waist. Boomerang grunts with satisfaction and switches from her lips to her neck. His beard, fortunately, is softer than could have been expected.

“Stop drinking so much,” Tatsu breathes out, now that no one is trying to shut her mouth. “You taste like…” all English words slip her mind, “like… a beer cask.”

It tickles her when he laughs into her neck.

Someone simply must enter now – Rick, Floyd, Amanda Waller, the president of the United States, but no, no one is trying to stop him from squeezing her hips, to stop her from running her fingers through his hair. Weapon to weapon, blade to blade. Red-hot metal to red-hot metal. Melting until something new is forged – without fear, without regret, without the past, without the future.

Clearly, Maseo wants too much: she remembers what happiness is, and she is sure she’ll never ever be happy again.

But she can take a shot at being alive.

#suicide squad #katana #captain boomerang #tatsu yamashiro #digger harkness #kaboom #captain boomerang x katana #boomerang x katana #dc #my fic #gella talks skwad #talk talk talk #my magnum opus lmao #amazed i managed to translate this. i am not a woman i'm a god indeed #once again i still know nothing about the geography of the dceu!united states #and whether a city like metropolis could have an opera house

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boredout305 · 3 years

Text

Kid Congo Powers Interview

Kid Congo Powers was a founding member of the Gun Club. He also played with The Cramps and Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. Powers currently fronts Kid Congo and the Pink Monkey Birds and recently completed a memoir, Some New Kind of Kick.

The following interview focuses on Some New Kind of Kick. In the book Powers recounts growing up in La Puente—a working-class, largely Latino city in Los Angeles County—in the 1960s, as well as his familial, professional and personal relationships. He describes the LA glam-rock scene (Powers was a frequenter of Rodney Bingenheimer’s English Disco), the interim period between glam and punk embodied by the Capitol Records swap meet, as well as LA’s first-wave, late-1970s punk scene.

Well written, edited and awash with amazing photos, Some New Kind of Kick will appeal to fans of underground music as well as those interested in 1960-1980s Los Angeles (think Claude Bessy and Mike Davis). The book will be available from In the Red Records, their first venture into book publishing, soon.

Interview by Ryan Leach

Kid Congo with the Pink Monkey Birds.

Ryan: Some New Kind of Kick reminded me of the New York Night Train oral histories you had compiled about 15 years ago. Was that the genesis of your book?

Kid: That was the genesis. You pinpointed it. Those pieces were done with Jonathan Toubin. It was a very early podcast. Jonathan wanted to do an audio version of my story for his website, New York Night Train. We did that back in the early 2000s. After we had completed those I left New York and moved to Washington D.C. I thought, “I have the outline for a book here.” Jonathan had created a discography and a timeline. I figured, “It’ll be great and really easy. We’ll just fill in some of the blanks and it’ll be done.” Here we are 15 years later.

Ryan: It was well worth it. It reads well. And I love the photographs. The photo of you as a kid with Frankenstein is amazing.

Kid: I’m glad you liked it. You’re the first person not involved in it that I’ve spoken with.

Ryan: As someone from Los Angeles I enjoyed reading about your father’s life and work as a union welder in the 1960s. My grandfather was a union truck driver and my father is a cabinetmaker. My dad’s cousins worked at the General Motors Van Nuys Assembly plant. In a way you captured an old industrial blue-collar working class that’s nowhere near as robust as it once was in Los Angeles. It reminded of Mike Davis’ writings on the subject.

Kid: I haven’t lived in LA for so long that I didn’t realize it doesn’t exist anymore. I felt the times. It was a reflection on my experiences and my family’s experiences. It was very working class. My dad was proud to be a union member. It served him very well. He and my mother were set up for the rest of their lives. I grew up with a sense that he earned an honest living. My parents always told me not to be embarrassed by what you did for work. People would ask me, “What’s your book about? What’s the thrust of it?” As I was writing it, I was like, “I don’t know. I’ll find out when it’s done.” What you mentioned was an aspect of that.

When I started the book and all throughout the writing I had gone to different writers’ workshops. We’d review each other’s work. It was a bunch of people who didn’t know me, didn’t know about music—at least the music I make. I just wanted to see if there was a story there. People were relating to what I was writing, which gave me the confidence to keep going.

Ryan: Some New Kind of Kick is different from Jeffrey Lee Pierce’s autobiography, Go Tell the Mountain. Nevertheless, I couldn’t help but think of Pierce’s work as I read yours. Was Go Tell the Mountain on your mind as you were writing?

Kid: When I was writing about Jeffrey—it was my version of the story. It was about my relationship with him. I wasn’t thinking about his autobiography much at all. His autobiography is very different than mine. Nevertheless, there are some similarities. But his book flew off into flights of prose and fantasy. I tried to stay away from the stories that were already out there. The thing that’s interesting about Jeffrey is that everyone has a completely different story to tell about him. Everyone’s relationship with him was different.

Ryan: It’s a spectrum that’s completely filled in.

Kid: Exactly. One of the most significant relationships I’ve had in my life was with Jeffrey. Meeting him changed my life. It was an enduring relationship. It was important for me to tell my story of Jeffrey.

Ryan: The early part of your book covers growing up in La Puente and having older sisters who caught the El Monte Legion Stadium scene—groups like Thee Midniters. You told me years ago that you and Jeffrey were thinking about those days during the writing and recording of Mother Juno (1987).

Kid: That’s definitely true. Growing up in that area is another thing Jeffrey and I bonded over. We were music hounds at a young age. We talked a lot about La Puente, El Monte and San Gabriel Valley’s culture. We were able to pinpoint sounds we heard growing up there—music playing out of cars and oldies mixed in with Jimi Hendrix and Santana. That was the sound of San Gabriel Valley. It wasn’t all lowrider music. We were drawn to that mix of things. I remember “Yellow Eyes” off Mother Juno was our tribute to the San Gabriel Valley sound.

Ryan: You describe the Capitol Records Swap Meet in Some New Kind of Kick. In the pre-punk/Back Door Man days that was an important meet-up spot whose significance remains underappreciated.

Kid: The Capitol Records Swap Meet was a once-a-month event and hangout. It was a congregation of record collectors and music fans. You’d see the same people there over and over again. It was a community. Somehow everyone who was a diehard music fan knew about it. You could find bootlegs there. It went from glam to more of a Back Door Man-influenced vibe which was the harder-edged Detroit stuff—The Stooges and the MC5. You went there looking for oddities and rare records. I was barely a record collector back then. It’s where I discovered a lot of music. You had to be a pretty dedicated music fan to get up at 6 AM to go there, especially if you were a teenager.

Ryan: I enjoyed reading about your experiences as a young gay man in the 1970s. You’d frequent Rodney’s English Disco; I didn’t know you were so close to The Screamers. While not downplaying the prejudices gay men faced in the 1970s, it seemed fortuitous that these places and people existed for you in that post-Stonewall period.

Kid: Yeah. I was obviously drawn to The Screamers for a variety of reasons. It was a funny time. People didn’t really discuss being gay. People knew we were gay. I knew you were gay; you knew I was gay. But the fact that we never openly discussed it was very strange. Part of that was protection. It also had to do with the punk ethos of labels being taboo. I don’t think that The Screamers were very politicized back then and neither was I. We were just going wild. I was super young and still discovering things. I had that glam-rock door to go through. It was much more of a fantasy world than anything based in reality. But it allowed queerness. It struck a chord with me and it was a tribe. However, I did discover later on that glam rock was more of a pose than a sexual revolution.

With some people in the punk scene like The Screamers and Gorilla Rose—they came from a background in drag and cabaret. I didn’t even know that when I met them. I found it out later on. They were already very experienced. They had an amazing camp aesthetic. I learned a lot about films and music through them. They were so advanced. It was all very serendipitous. I think my whole life has been serendipitous, floating from one thing to another.

Ryan: You were in West Berlin when the Berlin Wall was breached in November 1989. “Here’s another historical event. I’m sure Kid Congo is on the scene.”

Kid: I know! The FBI must have a dossier on me. I was in New York on 9/11 too.

Ryan: A person who appears frequently in your book is your cousin Theresa who was tragically murdered. I take it her death remains a cold case.

Kid: Cold case. Her death changed my entire life. It was all very innocent before she died. That stopped everything. It was a real source of trauma. All progress up until that point went on hold until I got jolted out of it. I eventually decided to experience everything I could because life is short. That trauma fueled a lot of bad things, a lot of self-destructive impulses. It was my main demon that chased me throughout my early adult life. It was good to write about it. It’s still there and that’s probably because her murder remains unsolved. I have no resolution with it. I was hoping the book would give me some closure. We’ll see if it does.

Ryan: Theresa was an important person in your life that you wanted people to know about. You champion her.

Kid: I wanted to pay tribute to her. She changed my life. I had her confidence. I was at a crossroads at that point in my life, dealing with my sexuality. I wanted people to know about Theresa beyond my family. My editor Chris Campion really pulled that one out of me. It was a story that I told, but he said, “There’s so much more to this.” I replied, “No! Don’t make me do it.” I had a lot of stories, but it was great having Chris there to pull them together to create one big story. My original concept for the book was a coming-of-age story. Although it still is, I was originally going to stop before I even joined the Gun Club (in 1979). It was probably because I didn’t want to look at some of the things that happened afterwards. It was very good for my music. Every time I got uncomfortable, I’d go, “Oh, I’ve got to make a record and go on tour for a year and not think about this.” A lot of it was too scary to even think about. But the more I did it, the less scary it became and the more a story emerged. I had a very different book in mind than the one I completed. I’m glad I was pushed in that direction and that I was willing to be pushed. I wanted to tell these stories, but it was difficult.

Ryan: Of course, there are lighter parts in your book. There are wonderful, infamous characters like Bradly Field who make appearances.

Kid: Bradly Field was also a queer punker. He was the partner of Kristian Hoffman of The Mumps. I met Kristian in Los Angeles. We all knew Lance Loud of The Mumps because he had starred in An American Life (1973) which was the first reality TV show. It aired on PBS. I was a fan of The Mumps. Bradly came out to LA with Kristian for an elongated stay during a Mumps recording session. Of course, Bradly and I hit it off when we met. Bradly was a drummer—he played a single drum and a cracked symbol—in Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. Bradly was a real character. He was kind of a Peter Lorre, misanthropic miscreant. Bradly was charming while abrasively horrible at the same time. We were friends and I always remained on Bradly’s good side so there was never a problem.

Bradly had invited me and some punkers to New York. He said that if we ever made it out there that we could stay with him. He probably had no idea we’d show up a month later. Bradly Field was an important person for me to know—an unashamedly gay, crazy person. He was a madman. I had very little interest in living a typical life. That includes a typical gay life. Bradly was just a great gay artist I met in New York when I was super young. He was also the tour manager of The Cramps at one point. You can imagine what that was like. Out of Lux and Ivy’s perverse nature they unleashed him on people.

Ryan: He was the right guy to have in your corner if the club didn’t pay you.

Kid: Exactly. Who was going to say “no” to Bradly?

Ryan: You mention an early Gun Club track called “Body and Soul” that I’m unfamiliar with. I know you have a rehearsal tape of the original Creeping Ritual/Gun Club lineup (Kid Congo Powers, Don Snowden, Brad Dunning and Jeffrey Lee Pierce). Are any of these unreleased tracks on that tape?

Kid: No. Although I do have tapes, there’s no Creeping Ritual material on them. I spoke with Brad (Dunning) and he has tapes too. We both agreed that they’re unlistenable. They’re so terrible. Nevertheless, I’m going to have them digitized and I’ll take another listen to them. “Body and Soul” is an early Creeping Ritual song. At the time we thought, “Oh, this sounds like a Mink DeVille song.” At least in our minds it did. To the best of my ability I did record an approximation of “Body and Soul” on the Congo Norvell record Abnormals Anonymous (1997). I sort of reimagined it. That song was the beginning of things for me with Jeffrey. It wasn’t a clear path when we started The Gun Club. We didn’t say, “Oh, we’re going to be a blues-mixed-with-punk band.” It was a lot of toying around. It had to do with finding a style. Jeffrey had a lot of ideas. We also had musical limitations to consider. We were trying to turn it into something cohesive. There was a lot of reggae influence at the beginning. Jeffrey was a visionary who wanted to make the Gun Club work. Of course, to us he was a really advanced musician. We thought (bassist) Don Snowden was the greatest too. What’s funny is that I saw Don in Valencia, Spain, where he lives now. He came to one of our (Kid Congo and the Pink Monkey Birds) shows a few years ago. He said, “Oh, I didn’t know how to play!”

Ryan: “I knew scales.”

Kid: Exactly. It was all perception. But we were ambitious and tenacious. We were certain we could make something really good out of what we had. That was it. We knew we had good taste in music. That was enough for us to continue on.

Ryan: I knew about The Cramps’ struggles with IRS Records and Miles Copeland. However, it took on a new meaning reading your book. Joining The Cramps started with a real high for you, recording Psychedelic Jungle (1981), and then stagnation occurred due to contractual conflicts.

Kid: There was excitement, success and activity for about a year or two. And then absolutely nothing. As I discuss in my book—and you can ask anyone who was in The Cramps—communication was not a big priority for Lux and Ivy. I was left to my own devices for a while. We were building, building, building and then it stopped. I wasn’t privy to what was going on. I knew they were depressed about it. The mood shifted. It was great recording Psychedelic Jungle and touring the world. The crowds were great everywhere we went. It was at that point that I started getting heavy into drugs. The time off left me with a lot of time to get into trouble. It was my first taste of any kind of success or notoriety. I’m not embarrassed to say that I fell into that trip: “Oh, you know who I am and I have all these musician friends now.” It was the gilded ‘80s. Things were quite decadent then. There was a lot of hard drug use. It wasn’t highly frowned upon to abuse those types of drugs in our circle. What was the reputation of The Gun Club? The drunkest, drug-addled band around. So there was a lot of support to go in that direction. Who knew it was going to go so downhill? We weren’t paying attention to consequences. Consequences be damned. So the drugs sapped a lot of energy out of it too.

I recorded the one studio album (Psychedelic Jungle) with The Cramps and a live album (Smell of Female). The live record was good and fun, but it was a means to an end. It was recorded to get out of a contract. The Cramps were always going to do it their way. Lux and Ivy weren’t going to follow anyone’s rules. I don’t know why people expected them to. To this day, I wonder why people want more. I mean, they gave you everything. People ask me, “When is Ivy going to play again?” I tell them, “She’s done enough. She paid her dues. The music was great.”

Ryan: I think after 30-something years of touring, she’s earned her union card.

Kid: Exactly. She’s done her union work.

Ryan: In your book you discuss West Berlin in the late 1980s. That was a strange period of extreme highs and lows. During that time you were playing with the Bad Seeds, working with people like Wim Wenders (in Wings of Desire) and witnessed the collapse of the Berlin Wall and the GDR. Nevertheless, it was a very dark period marred by substance abuse. Luckily, you came out of it unscathed. As you recount, some people didn’t.

Kid: It was a period of extremes. In my mind, for years, I rewrote that scene. I would say, “Berlin was great”—and it was, that part was true—and then I’d read interviews with Nick Cave and Mick Harvey and they’d say, “Oh, the Tender Prey (1988) period was just the worst. It’s hard to even talk about it.” And I was like, “It was great! What are you talking about?” Then when I started writing about it, I was like, “Oh, fuck! It really wasn’t the best time.” I had been so focused on the good things and not the bad things. Prior to writing my book, I really hadn’t thought about how incredibly dark it was. That was a good thing for me to work out. Some very bad things happened to people around me. But while that was happening, it was a real peak for me as a musician. Some of the greatest work I was involved with was being done then. And yet I still chose to self-destruct. It was a case of right place, right time. But it was not necessarily what I thought it was.

Ryan: Digressing back a bit, when we would chat years back I would ask you where you were at with this project. You seemed to be warming up to it as time went on. And I finally found a copy of the group’s album in Sydney, Australia, a year ago. I’m talking about Fur Bible (1985).

Kid: Oh, you got it?

Ryan: I did.

Kid: In Australia?

Ryan: Yes. It was part of my carry-on luggage.

Kid: I’m sure I can pinpoint the person who sold it to you.

Ryan: Are you coming around to that material now? I like the record.

Kid: Oh, yeah. I hated it for so long. People would say to me, “Oh, the Fur Bible record is great.” I’d respond, “No. It can’t possibly be great. I’m not going to listen to it again, so don’t even try me.” Eventually, I did listen to it and I thought, “Oh, this is pretty good.” I came around to it. I like it.

Ryan: You’ve made the transition!

Kid: I feel warmly about it. I like all of the people involved with it. That was kind of a bad time too. It was that post-Gun Club period. I felt like I had tried something unsuccessful with Fur Bible. I had a little bit of shame about that. Everything else I had been involved with had been successful, in my eyes. People liked everything else and people didn’t really like Fur Bible. It was a sleeper.

Ryan: It is.

Kid: There’s nothing wrong with it. It was the first time I had put my voice on a record and it just irritated the hell out of me. It was a first step for me.

Ryan: You close your book with a heartfelt tribute to Jeffrey Lee Pierce. You wonder how your life would’ve turned out had you not met Jeffrey outside of that Pere Ubu show in 1979. Excluding family, I don’t know if I’ve ever met anyone who’s had that sort of impact on my life.

Kid: As I was getting near the end of the book I was trying to figure out what it was about. A lot of it was about Jeffrey. Everything that moved me into becoming a musician and the life I lived after that was because of him. It was all because he said, “Here’s a guitar. You’re going to learn how to play it.” He had that confidence that I could do it. It was a mentorship. He would say, “You’re going to do this and you’re going to be great at it.” I was like, “Okay.” Jeffrey was the closest thing I had to a brother. We could have our arguments and disagreements, but in the end it didn’t matter. What mattered was our bond. Writing it down made it all clearer to me. His death sent me into a tailspin. I was entering the unknown. Jeffrey was like a cord that I had been hanging onto for so long and it was gone. I was more interested in writing about my relationship with him than about the music of the Gun Club. A lot of people loved Jeffrey. But there were others who said they loved him with disclaimers. I wanted to write something about Jeffrey without the disclaimers. That seemed like an important task—to honor him in a truthful manner.

Ryan: I’m glad that you did that. Jeffrey has his detractors, but they all seem to say something along the lines of “the guy still had the most indefatigable spirit and drive of any person I’ve ever known.”

Kid: That’s what drove everyone crazy!

Ryan: This book took you 15 years to finish. Completing it has to feel cathartic.

Kid: I don’t know. Maybe it will when I see the printed book. When I was living in New York there was no time for reflection. I started it after I left New York, but it was at such a slow pace. It was done piecemeal. I wanted to give up at times. I had a lot of self-doubt. And like I said, I’d just go on tour for a year and take a long break. The pandemic made me finally put it to bed. I couldn’t jump up and go away on tour anymore. It feels great to have it done. When I read it through after the final edit I was actually shocked. I was moved by it. It was a feeling of accomplishment. It’s a different feeling than what you get with music. Looking at it as one story has been an eye-opener for me. I thought to myself, “How did I do all of that?”

I see the book as the story of a music fan. I think most musicians start out as fans. Why would you do it otherwise? I never stopped being a fan. All of the opportunities that came my way were because I was a fan.

#kidcongopowers #interviews #gunclub #jeffreyleepierce #cramps #Badseeds

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nnightskiess · 4 years

Text

santana lopez imagine

i kinda combined two requests together bc i thought they’d fit well!

a/n: this is for u elena. sorry you had to wait so long♡

also, i wanted to try and show that soft and nervous side of santana that came out at the beginning with dani, so i’m sorry if it feels out of character sometimes. (i did my best lol)

“So, what’s been going on with you? I haven’t seen you in a few months.”

Y/N was having lunch with her friends from back home. It had been hard to keep in touch with them now that she had been living in New York for over a year. Not that she’d complain, since she gained multiple new friends and... well, a relationship. And not with just anyone— with Santana Lopez, whose singing career skyrocketed after a duet on Mercedes Jones’ album. She got a record deal a month after and her first EP was a hit. She went on tour with her first album but had vanished off the face of the earth after her very public breakup with her high school girlfriend and her backup dancer, Brittany S. Pierce. She stopped posting on social media, she wasn’t spotted by paparazzi anymore and her plans for a second album were now off the table. It was clear to everyone that the breakup had broken the girl. That was until she walked into the diner she used to work at and locked eyes with Y/N. Santana didn’t want to fall in love with anyone else and wasn’t completely over Brittany, so it wasn’t love at first sight.

But the moment Y/N stole the show while taking the lead singing Shout by The Trammps, she knew there was something special about the girl. Was it her voice that Santana’s mind went to when she lied in bed that night? Or the twinkle in her eyes when she sang? Or perhaps the way her smile widened a tad bit more when she looked at Santana?

Santana found herself go back to the diner on days where she’d rather sit in bed and cry. She’d forget her sorrow in moments they locked eyes but could cry again when Y/N wasn’t working that day.

Santana had taken her notebook with her, the one she would never let anyone read— well, except for Brittany. It’s where most of her songs were born and where her most delicate and vulnerable thoughts were being kept. She’d never been too keen on sharing emotions with everyone, so writing them down was a great alternative.

“I normally wouldn’t ask, but I’ve seen you here with that notebook now at least a couple of times... Are you writing a book?”

Santana’s head shot up. Y/N was standing next to her table, wiping her hands onto her apron.

Santana cracked a soft smile, “No—actually, I’m writing songs... a song... well, trying to, at least. My label wants-” She swallowed her sentence, she didn’t want this girl to know about any of that drama.

Y/N seemed to ignore it.

“You sing?”

Santana nodded but furrowed her eyebrows when Y/N sat down in front of her. “Go on, then. Let me hear what you’ve got so far.”

“Oh, no no no-”

Y/N pursed her lips, “Did it happen not too long ago?” she asked after a couple of seconds of Santana trying to get out of this situation.

She rose her eyebrows, unsure of how Y/N read the situation so well,

“It’s actually been a while but it still hurts.” She caught herself confessing.

“Then I won’t pry. I’ll leave you to it.” Y/N slid out of the booth, “Oh, and— I happen to know that our strawberry milkshake is the best medicine to heartbreak. It’s on me.”

“Thanks...” Santana watched her leave into the kitchen and immediately rubbed her temples when the girl left her sight. No, no, no, no. Not again. But wasn’t this exactly the reason she had started visiting the diner more and more? To spike up a conversation with the girl? She cursed at herself, stood up, grabbed her stuff and left the diner. She wasn’t ready yet. She could take the short glances and attention, but that was the line. The only woman she had truly trusted was no longer with her, she couldn’t open up to anyone again.

Through the window of the diner she could see the girl with a disappointed expression on her face the moment she realised Santana had left. But Santana didn’t turn around and kept walking.

✫彡

“Okay, stop crushing my spirit. I wanted a nice dinner with you.”

“Then you should’ve just asked Berry over for dinner. I’m sure she’d tell you all about her awfully cheerful day.”

Kurt put his hand on Santana’s so that she would stop playing with her food. She glared at him.

“You can glare at me all you want, but we’re not going to brush things under the carpet. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Santana dropped her cutlery and sat back, crossing her arms. “We’re not talking about Britt again. You want to help me move on? Then fucking stop bringing it up.”

“No, not that. There’s something else. I can sense it.”

“Since when do you have a Mexican third eye as well?”

“Off topic.” Kurt waved her off. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Santana lowered her head and slightly looked up at him, trying to decide wether to share or not.

“Is the label pressuring you?” He tried.

Santana sighed, “Well, yes, that too.”

Kurt waited patiently for Santana to feel comfortable enough to share the rest.

“They were okay with delaying the start of my second album but now they’re starting to breathe down my neck. They say it’s been long enough and that i’m just deadweight they have to pay but get nothing in return for, which is fair— but still. I’m only human, I’m not some super song-writing machine like Mercedes.”

“I thought you loved writing songs?”

“Yeah... when I had Brittany.” Santana looked at her lap and started playing with her hands. “Now that I don’t have her... I can’t seem to even write one sentence... and when I do, they’re all just too gloomy or depressing.”

Kurt nodded in understanding. “Well, Adele wrote one whole album about her breakup which sold like Wonka bars. Who says you can’t?”

Santana shook her head, “You don’t get it. I don’t want to sing about her anymore, even though it might help me move on. But the thing is...” she bit her lip, “I can’t. I don’t want to.”

“Then write about how you can’t write. Write about how you want to feel instead of feeling like your heart has been ripped out. Write about conquering this heartbreak, like a powerful song?”

“How?” Santana looked up, tears in her eyes.

“By remembering who you were before.”

“But I’ve been with Britt for as long as I-”

Kurt shook his head and waved his hands around, “No, think of the Santana in high school. You were fierce, strong, not afraid to speak your mind but you also had a big heart. You didn’t want to show it often but we all knew yours was just as big, if not bigger, as ours. Remember how it felt every time you got a solo and when you stood on the stage? Write about that feeling. Write about feeling on top of the world again.”

“Thanks, Hummel.”

He smiled at her and squeezed her hands, “Anytime. Now eat before it gets cold. I didn’t spend two hours in the kitchen for nothing.”

✫彡

Santana walked out off the apartment she had rented after her breakup with Brittany and crossed the street. She needed some fresh air and a distraction from her song-writing. Spring was around the corner but it was still very chilly in the big city, so she held the collar of her coat while walking through the tiny park close to her block. She started humming the melody she’d just come up with. Something just didn’t feel right yet.

Santana saw people look at her as they passed by but hoped that the big sunglasses on her face would keep them guessing of her identity. No matter how much she loved the attention from her fans, she sometimes just wanted to be normal and not have to pose for selfies every damn day.

“Hey, you!”

She sighed and stopped to turn around since she’d look like a real ass if she didn’t. She half expected to be met with a group of teenage girls with their phones ready to snap a picture, but instead she locked eyes with the girl from the diner.

“I think you dropped this.”

The girl apparently didn’t seem to recognise her thanks to the shades, and she handed her a crumbled piece of paper.

“Oh— um, thanks.” Santana gave her a tight-lipped smile. She stared back at the girl.

“I know you.” (weren’t you in a movie with my sister? lmao sorry i had to, let’s continue)

Oh, no. The girl couldn’t find out that Santana was the woman who had basically stood her up after their talk in that diner.

She let out a breathy chuckle, “Do you?”

“Yeah, you look familiar.” Something in Santana hoped that the girl recognised her for being a celebrity, not for what happened a week ago.

Y/N shamelessly looked her up and down before snapping her finger.

“Milkshake girl. I recognise your voice.”

Santana smiled awkwardly. Great, now she definitely looked like a douche.

“Sorry about that, by the way... I-”

“No need to apologise. I probably came on too strong, sorry for giving you the wrong impression. I only wanted to cheer you up.” She smiled back, “It’s a shame though, it was a great milkshake.”

Santana’s expression softened, relieved at how well the girl had taken it.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you again after that... You used to come in every few days. Is it my fault? Gunther would kill me if I lost him a customer. Wait— Don’t answer that. It’s none of my business.”

Santana smiled and removed her glasses.

“If he ever gets mad at you, just give him a box of Yeast-I-Stat. That’ll pretty much shut him up.”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, “How do you-”

“I worked there for a long time when I first moved to New York.” Santana shrugged, “I was pretty desperate for any kind of job when I landed that commercial.”

“Oh my God, you’re the Yeast-I-Stat girl!? I knew I recognised you from somewhere else, too.” The girl gasped, “I like yeast in my bagel... but not in my muffin.” She mocked and laughed afterwards.

“Oh, shut up, will you?” Santana shook her head in amusement, kinda glad those days were over.

“Is that really what you know me of?”

“Yeah, what else should I know you of? Any other embarrassing first-job commercials I should know about?”

Santana was about to mention her career but stopped herself. Clean slate. She wasn’t a celebrity in her private life. Besides, she didn’t want the girl to think she was bragging.

“No... thank God.”

They looked at each other for a few seconds before smiling.

“I’m Y/N.” She held out her hand for Santana to shake.

“Santana.”

Y/N smiled at her with the most adorable smile ever. Santana didn’t miss the twinkle in her eyes.

She blinked a few times before shaking her head, “So, yeah. I should get going.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. I have to go, too...”

“Bye...”

Santana waved softly as the girl turned around and walked off.

Clean slate, Santana.

✫彡

“They’re doing a Gloria Estefan night at the Spotlight Diner. We should totally go.”

“Not that I’m complaining, but that sounds out of character for the diner.” Rachel shrugged.

“I guess they finally had a cultural awakening.” Santana was mindlessly scrolling through her phone. “They’re probably too white to sing her Spanish songs though, bet they’re gonna butcher it.”

“So that’s a no for reserving us a table?” Kurt turned to the two.

“No, I wanna go.”

“Count me in, too. I love ‘Conga’.”

Santana rolled her eyes, “That’s the only song you know of her, isn’t it?”

“No...”

“Keep next Friday night free.”

✫彡

They walked in as ‘A Bailar’ by Gloria silently played over the speakers in the background. Santana scanned the room, shamelessly trying to find the girl she was looking for. Unfortunately, she was nowhere in sight.

Kurt waved his hand and one of the waitresses came to take their order. They talked a bit as they waited for their food. Every time Santana saw a girl in the red outfit walk by from the corner of her eyes, her head would shot up, only to be disappointed again when it wasn’t Y/N.

“Tana, stop ogling everyone. Your food’s getting jealous.” Rachel pointed at the untouched plate in front of her.

A few minutes later, their heads shot to the door as Y/N bursted through it. She quickly fixed her hair that was messed up by the wind and quickly tied a white apron around her waist. Gunther came from behind the counter. Though they couldn’t hear what he said, it was clear she was in trouble. He kept pointing his finger at her chest before snatching the apron off her waist and sending her into the back.

“Oh, I bet she’s on cleaning duty now. Remember when I got an hour late because I was held up at an audition?”

Kurt and Rachel started talking but Santana wasn’t paying attention.

Santana furrowed her eyebrows until she got a call from her PR manager. She declined and a few seconds after, she got a text.

Santana’s stomach sank and she froze. New relationship? Brittany had already moved on? Yet she still spent every day moping around, overthinking everything that had happened, unable to write any song that wasn’t about the blonde. Brittany was already giving someone else all her love? How was that fair? How was she even able to do that?

“Santana?”

“You alright?”

She snapped out of it and gave them a tightlipped, fake smile. There was no time for them to question her any further as Rachel let out a startled yelp when suddenly the first notes of ‘Conga’ blasted through the diner. The lights flickered and changed colour on the beat. Santana rolled her eyes, of course they’d start with that song.

Girls started dancing through the pathways and tried to hype everyone up. Kurt was shimmying along and Rachel was nodding her head to the beat, a big smile on her face. Santana tried to blend but she was busy biting her lip to stop herself from crying.

The percussion band on the little stage started playing ‘Cuba Libre’. A girl danced her way onto the stage and sang the Spanish verse. She was clearly hispanic since her pronunciation was great. Two girls started dancing on the counter and another helped someone up—Y/N.

‘Cuba Libra’ faded into the chorus of ‘Turn the Beat Around’ to which Y/N took the lead. Santana’s frown softened at seeing the girl perform, but she still couldn’t shake the thought of Brittany off.

Santana sank back into her seat and crossed her arms, wanting to go home and crawl into her bed and not leave it for the next couple of days. She hadn’t even realised that another song was already playing and that the girls were pulling people out of their seats to ‘Get on Your Feet’.

Y/N spotted Santana in the crowd and walked over to her, but Santana wouldn’t crack a smile. Y/N kept singing to her until she’d turn around. Kurt softly shook his head at the girl, telling her that she should leave Santana alone. But what he didn’t know, was that the girls already knew each other. Y/N noticed how Santana pursed her lips, not giving in to her.

Y/N grabbed her shoulders, bent down to her height and slowly made the girl turn.

She sang to her,

“Deep in your heart is the answer. Find it, I know it will pull you through. Get on your feet!”

She leaned over to grab Rachel and Kurt’s hands, helping them stand up. Almost everyone in the diner was up and dancing right now, except for Santana. Kurt gave her a look, telling her to suck it up.

“I think it's true that we've all been through some nasty weather,” Y/N turned to dance with one of her co-workers. She felt Santana look at her and walked back up to her. She danced around her. “Let's understand that we're here to handle things together.”

Y/N stuck out her tongue at Santana’s stoic expression, trying to break her. And it worked, Santana let out a soft chuckle and shook her head in amusement. Both Y/N and Kurt held out a hand for her to take. She rolled her eyes and stood up. The four of them danced together for a few seconds until Y/N walked back to the other girls. They ended the song on the stage, where everyone left but Y/N. They went back to eating their dinner as the next few songs would be slow and easy on the ears.

Y/N sat down on the stool next to the guitarist. He started playing the soft notes of ‘Wrapped’. Kurt and Rachel went back to eating their food but Santana was too mesmerised by the girl to engage in their conversation. The soft light that was shining down on her made her look like she was the only one in the room. And judging by the look on the girl’s face while she sang, she felt like she was the only one in the room too. She hadn’t once opened her eyes the first minute, she was just so indulged in the song.

A small smile made its way onto Santana’s face at the sight. She knew how good it felt to be so into a song that you could just forget the world around you— to find your corner of the sky. It was very obvious that Y/N felt at ease, even while performing in front of people. It was rare to see people be so clearly in love with what they were doing.

Santana grabbed her phone, opened Instagram and decided to film this moment. Y/N’s face wasn’t recognisable from the distance where Santana was filming from so she decided to just put it into her story. Everyone deserved to see this.

Was this positive and uplifting enough?

✫彡

‘What we know of Santana and Brittany’s breakup...’

‘Read what Brittany S Pierce has to say about her ex’

‘Santana’s social media silence over?’

‘Santana Lopez still in love or in love again?’

And many more headlines had been posted after that Friday. Santana got a lot of followers after her first post in over a year. She had also gotten a lot of hate, which was something she hadn’t missed. Brittany hadn’t said one bad word about their relationship or about Santana but for some reason she still received backlash. Brittany spoke so highly about Santana and all the questions were answered with respect. But Santana wasn’t surprised about that at all, that was just how Brittany was.

There were still people—mainly Brittany fans—who blamed Santana and made all kinds of crazy assumptions about what had happened.

“Just delete the app. You don’t need that kind of toxic energy around you.”

Y/N was filling the ketchup bottles while she sat in front of Santana.

How had this happened, you ask? One of Y/N’s coworkers had recognised her on Santana’s story and pointed it out to her. When Santana visited the diner again, Y/N had jokingly apologised about not knowing who she was before, to which Santana had replied,

“You knew who I was. You knew the real me. Not the celebrity or crazy hot girl from the Yeast-I-Stat commercials.”

After that, Santana made sure to come round when Y/N was done or only doing little chores.

Y/N loved that she got a new friend and Santana was glad that she finally had someone who she could start over with. Someone who didn’t know her from back in high school and someone who didn’t become friends with her solely for the fact that she was famous.

“I can’t. They want me to post at least once a week.” Santana groaned, “I don’t even know what to post. All I do is sleep, try to write and go here.”

They worked in silence for a few minutes until Y/N opened her mouth again.

“Why are tomatoes the slowest vegetables?”

Santana furrowed her eyebrows, giving her a look.

“No guesses? Well, they can’t ketchup.”

Santana snorted and shook her head. “Wow, okay. I’m going to pretend you didn’t just make an awful joke.”

“Yeah, you go do that while I bring these to the back.”

Santana watched her leave and sighed. The past week had been hell for Santana. She yearned for every little bit of attention from Y/N and her insides turned to mush whenever the girl smiled at her. But something held her back. She didn’t want to fall in love again. Not yet, not when she still held her high school sweetheart in her heart. But it was so hard to not stare at Y/N or freak out whenever she called her on the phone.

“Ready?”

Santana laughed at the huge guitar in Y/N’s hands. She seemed so small now.

“What’s that for?”

“You said you didn’t know what to post. You should post a little acoustic cover of that song I helped you finish last week?”

Santana looked at her, contemplating if she should agree or not.

“Can you even play?”

Y/N smiled sheepishly, “Only that song. I practiced the chords all week. But hey, if I mess up— just know that i’m willing to publicly embarrass myself just to help you out.”

Santana smiled at her in adoration. “Fine. Okay.”

They walked to the vacant stage and put Santana’s phone on the sheet music standard.

“Oh-I... I’ll scoot out of the frame if me being in it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Why would it make me uncomfortable?”

Y/N laughed, “People might assume we’re together after all the assumptions about you in the magazines. That would be weird.”

Santana’s expression faltered. “O-Oh...yeah.. it would...” She faked a smile.

Y/N started strumming the guitar.

(radio silence by naya rivera)

Santana closed her eyes as she started singing. It was clear to everyone that this song was about Brittany and she wasn’t ready yet to let them hear the whole song. It felt too personal to give it away just like that. Which is why they decided to do just a snippet.

She opened her eyes and looked at Y/N when one chord sounded terrible. You could hear Y/N giggle from behind the phone. Santana smiled wide and had a hard time singing without laughing. Y/N stuck out her tongue as she seemed focused on getting the next one right. Santana unintentionally looked at her longingly the last few notes but broke out of it when Y/N stopped playing.

✫彡

Should she be thanking the tabloids? No, never. However, she couldn’t deny that they had been the reason why Y/N had even brought it up.

“Do you like me?”

Santana widened her eyes.

“And I don’t mean as friends. I mean like-like. Do you like-like me?”

“I-uh, I-” Santana stammered.

“It would be really embarrassing if you didn’t, to be honest.”

Santana gave her a wary but panicked look.

“Because I do... like-like you, I mean.”

“Wow, wait— what?”

She opened and closed her mouth until she saw the honesty on Y/N’s face who let her statement linger in the air, hoping that Santana would say something. But the silence only heightened her nerves

“Santana-”

“I can’t... I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”

She quickly grabbed her stuff and left the diner, just like she had done the first time.

She rushed home, biting her lip to prevent the tears in her eyes from falling. The second she unlocked her front door, she let them go. Santana tried to control her sobs as she sat on the couch, holding her head in her hands.

Her safety net whenever she felt lost or emotional— Brittany — was gone, what was she supposed to do now? She let out another sob as she missed Britt’s arms holding her close.

She reached for her phone without a second thought and dialled the woman’s number. Brittany picked up after a few seconds, much to Santana’s surprise.

“Hey, um, Santana. What’s up?”

Brittany decided to break the ice, but all formalities were thrown out the window when she heard the Latina let out another sob.

“Santana, are you okay?! What’s happened? Where are you?”

Was she okay? No. But what was she supposed to tell Brittany? That it was partly because of her?

“Please, say something, Tana. I’m worried.”

Santana held the bridge of her nose and let out a big, shaky sigh.

“Please forget that I called, this was a mistake. I’m sorry for bothering you.”

She hung up. But the phone rang after a few seconds. Santana tossed it next to her on the couch and rubbed her forehead. How could she have been so stupid?

It rang again. And again, and then another three times. Santana stared at the screen long and hard before picking it up.

“Don’t shut me out, please. You know I still care about you when something’s wrong.”

Santana let out a huff and Brittany knew exactly what that meant.

“Santana, listen— I am so, so sorry for what happened. I too thought that we would be the happiest and sappiest couple forever but... some things just... happen. And I still completely understand how hard it was for you to stay friends with me without being with me and I’m so terribly sorry for that they brought you up in that interview— but I meant everything I said, Santana. You were the best thing that happened to me back then. And to me you still are my best and most incredible friend but... that’s just it.”

A long pause.

“And I kind of really miss hanging out with you and so does Lord Tubbington so if you’re comfortable with the idea, would you want to get together sometime soon? Wait— not get together-together, just... argh, you know what I mean.”

“How did you do it?” Santana broke her silence. “What changed in your mind for you to get the closure you needed? Because I never fucking got it.”

Brittany kept quiet, knowing there was more to follow.

“I have spent a whole year feeling like absolute shit, but I knew... that there was no way that we’d ever get together again. But the closure? Nope.” She furrowed her eyebrows in frustration. “And lately there’s been this incredible girl in my life and guess what? You two are fighting for first place in my head and I can’t help but want to push her out because I’m not ready to let her stay there until you are completely out of my thoughts.”

She heard Brittany let out a breath.

“Sant-”

“Oh, no, no, no. I don’t need a pity-party. I don’t-”

“Santana Lopez, listen to me.” Brittany raised her voice. “If your plan is to sabotage your own happiness, then congratulations— you’re well on your way. It’s no wonder that you’re having a hard time moving on. I mean, one— I’m a catch but two, we were together since high school, that’s a long time. We were each other’s first loves and truth be told, you never really forget those. You’ll compare every following relationship to that one, even if it was full of flaws. Truth is, you’ll never be able to move on or get the closure until you open yourself up to idea of loving someone else again. And I know how you work— you don’t ever want to open up to someone again but... if you give this girl a chance, who knows? She might be the one to change your mind. And I’ll cross my fingers she will. I hope she’ll kick me off first place like a rugby player.” Brittany snorted at her own joke.

“Because you deserve a special someone too, Santana. And if you still don’t have the closure you need... I loved you, I cared for you, and in a way I still do. But we won’t ever get together again. That ship has sailed. I want you to be happy and I want to see you flourish in every aspect of life, just... without me being your special someone. I’d still very much like to be by your side, though, but as a friend.”

Santana let the words sink in until she suddenly widened her eyes.

“I am such a fucking idiot.”

“Um... are we having the same phone call? Because I’m lost...”

“She told me she liked me and I ran out.”

“Was that metaphorically speaking or did you literally run out?”

“Like a chicken, Brittany.”

“Santana!? Be Chicken Little and run back!” Brittany exclaimed, “But watch out for the traffic, please, because that would be a tragic end to the story....and it would be animal abuse...”

Santana smiled softly, missing this side of Brittany.

“Okay, okay!” She laughed.

“Keep me posted?”

Santana hummed, “Thank you, Britt.”

“Of course. You’re still my best friend, even if we haven’t seen each other in over a year. Go get the girl.”

✫彡

Santana hesitantly walked back into the diner. It wasn’t rush hour so there were only a few people having a drink.

“See you guys tomorrow!”

Y/N walked out of the backroom and froze in her spot when she saw Santana looking at her. A tightlipped, awkward smile appeared on her face and she tried to walk passed her but Santana grabbed her hand.

“Wait, I-...I need to tell you something.”

Santana looked the girl in her eyes, seeing the anticipation and worry in them. But then she saw something else, she saw the same twinkle in her eyes when Y/N sang so beautifully that night. Only this time they were twinkling because she was looking at Santana.

She grabbed the girl’s cheek and planted a chaste kiss on Y/N’s lips. Y/N widened her eyes at first but kissed back. They parted when a bell coming from the kitchen interrupted them.

“So much for needing to tell me something...” Y/N chuckled heartily, “But I guess I got what you were trying to say.”

“You guess?” Santana shot back.

“Yeah... I’m still slightly confused...”

“How’s this?” Santana grabbed her by the waist and kissed her again. Y/N slowly tapped the girl on her chest when things started to get heated.

“Let’s keep it PG, we’ve got an audience.”

Santana bit her lip in embarrassment when she saw that all eyes were on them now.

“But your message was loud and clear this time.” Y/N whispered in her ear and gave her one of the most adorable smiles.

“Oh...” Santana let out a breathy chuckle and looked at the ground. Being nervous was so out of character for her, but whenever it came to her and relationships she was always a simp for her significant other.

“But... can we take it slow? Because-”

Y/N nodded immediately. “I know, you don’t have to tell me. We’ll take it slow.”

✫彡

Y/N sat on Santana’s bed, reading a book while the Latina was trying to write a new song for her album. She heard yet another paper being ripped apart, followed by a loud groan.

“Baby, you okay?”

Y/N bent over the couch and hugged Santana’s neck from behind, planting a kiss on her temple. Santana sighed and sat back, feeling more relaxed the second Y/N’s arms wrapped around her.

“It’s not working. I can’t seem to get my exact feelings onto paper and what I have now doesn’t even do it a little bit of justice.”

“The break-up song? Let me see-” Y/N went to reach for the notebook but Santana immediately turned around and smiled.

“You know what? I’m starving, and I want to take you out.”

“Oh— are you sure? We just had-”

“I’m sure. I need a break anyway.”

“Okay...well, let me get a jacket.”

Santana watched Y/N walk into the other room before quickly hiding the notebook behind the couch pillows again. She’d feel so embarrassed if Y/N ever read any of her love songs to her. Truth be told, ever since their first kiss in the diner, Santana had found her new muse. She had written a lot of songs since then but not one seemed to be good enough or do the girl justice. Besides, if Y/N read the lyrics to this song... Well, it would make or break their relationship and Santana wasn’t going to lose someone again.

“Let’s go.”

✫彡

“But I can tell my friends, right?”

“Baby, of course you can.”

“Sweet! I’m going to see them again next week. Can’t wait to see the look on their faces when they see you.”

“Oh, I’m... not sure if going with you is such a good idea.”

“I forgot— we’re taking things slow.” Y/N nodded to herself, “Sorry, I get too excited sometimes.”

Santana caressed the girl’s head and planted a kiss on it, “It’s okay. Soon.”

✫彡

“So, what’s been going on with you? I haven’t seen you in a few months.”

Y/N took a sip of her drink, “Well, i’m still working at the diner, that hasn’t changed. And-”

“You’re in love.”

“How-”

“I can sense it. Also, you've posted a lot of cheesy and soft quotes on your twitter so that was a dead give-away.”

“Well, yes. I’m dating someone.”

“Boy? Girl?”

“Girl, duh.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Oh my God, Y/N!” Her friend squealed, “Who is it? Show me a picture, let me approve.”

“It’s Santana Lopez.”

The two friends fell quiet.

“The famous singer?” One of them asked.

“Hun, she’s hardly famous anymore. Are we sure she still even exists?”

“Hey!” Y/N pouted. “But I’m telling you the truth. It’s Santana.”

“Real funny, she doesn’t even live in New York.”

“Uh, yeah, she does.”

“No, she doesn’t. TMZ said she moved back to Ohio after the break-up.”

Y/N shook her head, “They also said she started dating a 80 year-old billionaire and bought a pet alpaca, which I think is ridiculous. You’re too gullible.”

Her friend shrugged, “Perhaps, yeah. But hey, it’s okay if you don’t want to tell us who it really is yet.”

Y/N rolled her eyes when they switched the topic.

✫彡

“How did it go, babe? Were you happy to see them again?”

“You’re not going to believe me but they thought I was joking.”

“Joking about what?”

Y/N sat down next to Santana on the couch, immediately cuddling up to her. “Well, they didn’t believe I was dating you.”

“Why would they not believe you?”

“I think you forgot that you’re kinda famous.”

She rolled her eyes, “I’m hardly famous.”

Y/N mocked her, earning a playful punch in the shoulder from Santana but her smile soon disappeared.

“Um...”

“No bad news, please!” Y/N immediately noticed the change in Santana.

“No, no, don’t worry. I mean, I don’t think it’s bad news— it’s just... a lot...to deal with right now.”

“Just rip the bandaid off.”

Santana grabbed her phone and showed Y/N the post.

“Oh...” Y/N swiped and saw that she had been photographed as well.

“I know we said we would take things slow so I’m so sorry that the media is trying to fuck that up again.” Santana examined Y/N, who was difficult to read. “This is exactly what ruined everything last time. Fuck! Here I thought it would be different this time around. I should’ve never-”

“Santana, sshh.” Y/N grabbed her hand, trying to calm her down. “Stop thinking.”

Santana looked up like a sad puppy.

“Nothing is getting ruined again. Not on my watch.” She put the phone on the coffee table, “Let’s just ignore that. Let them start rumours, let them guess, let them make up drama but the only two people who really know the truth are you and I. It’s our life, not theirs. So no matter what they will say, I will love you unconditionally for as long as you want me to... and I will never feel differently... about you.”

Santana's head shot up, looking puzzled and panicked at the same time.

“W-Where did you get that from?”

Y/N smiled at Santana and caressed her cheek, “You need to find better hiding places, babe.”

Y/N suddenly looked worried, “Unless that song wasn’t about me... then... well, this is awkward. Just-”

“I love you.” Santana cut her off, tears in her eyes. She felt the urge to pinch herself but decided it would look silly. Was she really in love again after all that she’d been through?

“I love you too, unconditionally. And... you better make that song your first single.”

✫彡

“Guys, I’m literally in the pictures with her?!”

“Yah, but you look more like a fan of her than her girlfriend, look at you... swooning.”

“I mean, yes, I adore everything she does...”

Y/N’s friend leaned over and smiled, “So you’re really dating the Santana Lopez?”

“I mean, I sure hope she does...” Santana walked up to their table in the little cafe, startling Y/N’s friends while the girl just looked at them with a smirk on her face. Finally.

Santana sat down next to her and gave her girlfriend a kiss before turning back to the two friends sitting in front of them.

“Is that enough proof or do you need me to bend her o-”

“That’s enough!” Y/N gave Santana a playful slap across the head.

“Oh my God, no!” Y/N’s friend exclaimed, “Speak for yourself! Imagine the money I’d make with a tape of that! I’d finally be the rich bitch I’ve always been deep down.”

Y/n rolled her eyes at him and it earned a laugh from Santana, “I like you.”

“Why, muchas gracias.”

“Wow, thanks for completely taking my spotlight. Hi, i’m her best friend, he’s just our accessory.”

“Excuse me?!”

Y/N shook her head at the two of them.

“Are you regretting you came along?” Y/N turned to her girlfriend.

“We wouldn’t judge you if you said yes, to be honest.” Her friend laughed.

Santana smiled at them, “No, it’s been a while since I met new people and you two seem fun and well, you mean a lot to this one over here so I’m happy to be here.”

Y/N snuggled up to Santana and put her head on her shoulder.

“Alright, go and make me jealous. It’s fine.”

“Shut up! Now tell us how you two met, please!”

✫彡

Santana couldn’t stop playing with her fingers and the bracelets on her wrist as the hours passed. Only a few more minutes now until her new song ‘My Unconditional Love’ would go online, for the world to hear. There had been a lot of speculations about the two women the past few months, but they had tried to be more discreet when they were outside. Much to the dismay of the paparazzi and tabloids. This song would basically be a dead give away to their relationship but she didn’t care. This song already meant so much to her and Santana hoped she could write plenty more songs like these about Y/N.

“Are you having second thoughts?”

Y/N’s voice interrupted her thinking.

“Wh- No, never! It’s probably my favourite song I ever wrote... it’s just... nerve-wracking, is all.”

“C’mere.”

Santana walked into Y/N’s open arms and let out a big sigh at the feeling of her arms around her.

“You’ve come a long way and I am so proud of you... but most of all, I’m happy to be on this ride with you. I know this song will point a lot of fingers to us dating but hey, like we said before— no one needs to know but us and our friends and families. Capiche?”

Santana nodded and grabbed the girl’s cheeks, “I’m so happy with you.”

They both beamed from ear to ear until the bell rang. Santana opened the door.

“I’m so excited!” Kurt squealed and dragged Rachel along inside.

“It’s time, guys!” Y/N sang as she appeared from the kitchen, trying to balance a tray with four champagne glasses on it.

“Hook your phone up to the speakers!” Rachel grabbed a glass. Santana’s new song started playing which earned raised eyebrows from the three others.

“This isn’t the same song you sent me?!” Kurt exclaimed.

“No, it is. It’s just not the slow version. I’m keeping that version for us.” Santana grabbed Y/N’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “It felt too special to share.”

“Well, damn, I’m digging this one, too!”

They started dancing together to the upbeat song. Y/N kept staring at Santana, who seemed too excited and happy to notice.

Her unconditional love.

#santana lopez #santana lopez imagine #santana lopez imagines #santana lopez x reader #santana lopez one shot #santana / you #santana/you #glee #glee imagine #glee imagines #glee one shot #glee x reader #naya rivera imagine #naya rivera imagines #naya river x reader #brittana imagines

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2996-sana · 4 years

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Seeking Arrangement - Rosé

Part 1

The pitter patter of the rain served as background noise for Y/N and Lisa who was sat on their couch munching on some cucumbers, eyes glued to the Kdrama playing on the TV. Y/N let out a dramatic sigh as she watches Ko Moonyoung and Moon Gangtae lock lips for the first time. The sound was not lost on her best friend who shot her a grin.

“Are you going all soft again, Y/N?”

Y/N rolled her eyes at the teasing tone in Lisa’s voice. This was not new as she was always on the receiving end of Lisa’s jokes about her being such a hopeless romantic. Though Lisa found this amusing about her best friend, she thinks there is strength in Y/N’s ability to believe in love after the shit her ex-girlfriend Suzy put her through. Could you really blame her? Being in love was without a doubt one of the best feelings in the world in Y/N’s book. For her, it was an overwhelming yet warm feeling that stretches throughout your whole body once it enters your life and leaves you feeling like you’re on top of the world (but its all fun and games until your partner cheats on you).

Despite this though, she was not in a hurry to find love. In fact, after the tragedy that was her last relationship, she just wanted to lie low and have fun for a while.

“Shut up. You’re lucky you’re in a stable relationship,” Y/N scoffs.

Lisa and her girlfriend Jennie have been together for 2 years now (3 years next month) and Y/N envied the love shared between the two.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. No one can resist you for too long,” Lisa tries to reassure her best friend, wrapping an arm around her.

Y/N grimaced, “Eh…I don’t really want anything serious at the moment. Especially after Suzy.”

Lisa pretends to gag at the sound of Y/N’s ex-girlfriend’s name, “I agree. Have fun and take it easy. You should like…I don’t know…find a sugar daddy or something.” They both chuckle at Lisa’s words, knowing she would never even think about it.

•

It was hours later on her bed while typing out a reply to some guy she matched on Tinder that she realizes how hard it was to find a worthy candidate to waste her time on. These boys lacked substance and were coming at her with the same pick-up lines. She wonders if they all got them at the same Fuckboy Convention. It didn’t help that she rarely matched with girls either.

She groans at the reply that came through.

Wyd tho? U tryna fuck?

“The audacity of these boys,” she mutters under her breath, closing the app.

As she stares at her ceiling zoning out, she remembers Lisa’s words from hours ago. A sugar daddy. She laughs at her best friend’s ridiculous idea. She could never.

Unless? No. It’s stupid. She doesn’t wanna give out any sugar AT ALL.

But she was bored out of her mind. For the past 3 months, she has been cooped up in her bed wallowing in self-pity while listening to the very suspicious sounds coming out of Lisa’s room. There were also only so many pep-talks she could give herself until she grew tired of her own words. It was this that fueled her to sit up and turn on her laptop. After all, she considered boredom as an invitation for her to find something that would raise her serotonin levels. And what is the value of life without a little fun? She owed herself the first few months of her breakup to relax and take care of herself after all the mental damage, but now she needed a little play. She needed both the loud and quiet joys of life, peace with a little bit of wild mixed in. It was needed to feed her soul.

She also couldn’t lie that she craved some sort of human connection and validation. Yeah, she definitely was not proud of that last one.

Y/N stared at the keyboard, not believing what she was able to type into Google.

How to find a sugar daddy?

What she found out during her deep dive in the wondrous world of sugar daddies and babies was the number one site to find one was called Seeking Arrangement.

So that is where she found herself, blinking at the statement written in bold.

100% Free to Join!

To hell with it, she thinks as she begins to fill out the application.

30 minutes later, she nods in approval as she scanned through the photos she chose. She would totally hit herself up if she was a sad middle-aged man desperate for companionship. As she hits submit, she was met with pictures of men – and surprisingly women, although there were considerably more men – complete with their basic information.

Looking for a woman to spoil.

Looking for love.

Looking for a loving companion.

Looking for a good time.

It was nothing she didn’t expect to find at a sugar baby site but it was the net worth of the men and women displayed on her screen that caught her eye. She was almost tempted to message one of them but couldn’t find it in herself to do so. She rolls her eyes at the thought.

She spent hours researching and signing up for a sugar baby website and she still finds herself being stubborn about making the first move.

Glancing at the clock, she realized that it was almost 4AM. She decides that she was going to wait for someone to message her first instead. Besides it gives off the vibe that she’s hard to get and that’s always a little bit sexy, right?

•

"Y/N! Wake up! I made banana pancakes.”

Slowly opening her eyes and stretching, her foot meets a hard surface. The cold metallic feeling on her foot was enough to remind her of her antics 7 hours ago. She hides her face on her hands, sighing. Why did she think that was a good idea?

Once she was out of her room, she was met with the sweet smell of banana pancakes and nutella. She dragged herself to where the smell was most present and found herself in the kitchen where both Lisa and Jennie sat on the counter. Jennie threw a gummy smile her way while her best friend simply nodded at her presence, busy stuffing herself with her girlfriend’s banana pancakes.

“Vas happenin’, love birds?” she greets them with a faux British accent.

“What kind of dollar store Zayn Malik am I hearing right now?” came Lisa’s reply to which Y/N’s response was to smear Nutella all over her best friend’s face.

“Yah, Y/N!” Lisa whines as she hits Y/N on the shoulder.

Y/N gasps as she prepares to retaliate.

“Children! Stop it.” Jennie scolds the two. She was used to the duo’s playful fighting but she also knew it could go on for hours if she doesn’t put a stop to it.

Both were quick to stop but stuck their tongues out at each other.

Y/N grabbed her plate to return to her room. She glanced at the couple making sure they were preoccupied enough not to notice what she was up to.

You have 11 unopened messages!

A loose grin formed on her face at the notification. Not bad. She hurriedly opened her inbox to find the different men who deemed her worthy to reach out to.

It was all pretty tame, it being the typical greeting. She sighed, already bored. It wasn’t until she reached the bottom of her inbox where a small gasp came out of her. She sat up and read the sender’s name.

Rosé Park. A woman.

She excitedly clicked on the woman’s profile.

It only took the woman’s profile picture for Y/N to realize that this Rosé Park was the type of woman she fantasized about. For starters, she was a brunette and the woman was a blonde. She was a sucker for blondes. Who could resist a good brunette and blonde wlw duo?

Santana and Brittany. Rose and Rosie. Clarke and Lexa. Piper and Alex. Need she say more?

Basically, Rosé Park was a dreamboat. Something radiated from her pictures that Y/N knew rendered her irresistible to both men and women. She could outshine any of these men on the site any day. It also only took her profile picture to realize that the woman was a big deal. Her outfit looked straight out of the pages of a fashion magazine. Why would gorgeous and rich 25-year old Rosé Park want to talk to a normal and boring 23-year old like her?

Y/N composed herself, fighting back a smile, before returning to her and Rosé’s chat.

Hi, gorgeous. I passed by your profile and knew I had to talk to you. Looking forward to your response x

Y/N’s blush seared through her cheeks and for a minute she thought her face was on fire. She suddenly felt awkward, demure, and coy; even going as far as attempting to hide her rosy features behind her slim fingers even if no one else was around to see her. She blames it on the fact that an insanely beautiful woman complimented her. So naturally, it took her at least 5 minutes of over-analyzing every possible response for her to actually send one.

Hi there :) You’re one to talk. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.

To her surprise, three little dots indicating Rosé was typing appeared beside the woman’s picture.

Haha, cute.

Hmm what brings you to this site, Y/N?

The woman’s question made her pause. She doesn’t even know the answer to that. Was she supposed to make some shit up?

Um I was bored.

She facepalms herself as she hit send. Really? Your brain cogs couldn't turn fast enough to come up with a more interesting response, Y/N?

Y/N thought she blew it as 45 minutes has passed and no response from the blonde bombshell came. She internally cursed herself for her boring response to the woman. Rosé probably thought she was an airhead.

•

It was 10PM after binge watching another Kdrama with Jennie and Lisa that she remembered being left on delivered by Rosé. Her mood quickly sours as she realizes she ruined her chance at getting to know the beautiful woman. Thinking to distract herself with the depressing fact, she goes to check if any of the men messaged her back. Sure, a man could never fill the void of a woman but she really needed to talk to another human being besides Lisa and Jennie.

Y/N was apparently in for a surprise because what awaited her was a message from the woman.

Well, I hope to provide some sort of entertainment for you ;)

I’m not one to beat around the bush Y/N. I think you’re stunning and a good lay in bed. That’s a really good source of entertainment for the both of us, no?

Jesus Christ. She was not expecting that.

Y/N knew what being a sugar baby entailed but she was still brought to a shock at how blunt Rosé was being and so early on into the conversation. The thought of being with Rosé like that, being able to feel her skin against hers, the godly sounds that it would elicit…

Her private thoughts made herself blush. It seems like if there was anything Rosé was good at it was making Y/N blush. But her unholy thoughts about the woman didn’t create a cute soft pink tint on her cheek like a healthy outdoors glow, it was beet red. Y/N figured that Rosé was probably highly practiced at the art of seduction. Rosé’s looks although a masterpiece sculpted by all the deities that exist… well, nothing so pretty could possibly harm you, right? But it was that combined with Rosé’s choice of words that had anyone she chose to even focus her attention on jumping through hoops to please her. So, she swallowed her pride and forced herself to play it cool, putting on a mask that she thought would appease the woman she really wanted to impress.

I like the way you think, Rosé. I like to think I make great company in bed too ;) Give me a time and place and I’ll be there.

•

That message was what lead Y/N to the 21st floor of Seoul Forest Trimage Towers, one of Seoul’s most luxurious and exclusive apartment complex, standing outside of Rosé’s penthouse two days later.

All the reasons not to go through with it and just leave came flooding in. Y/N can feel the soft panic growing inside her body as she wills herself to breathe in and out, not quite ready to ring the doorbell just yet. But before she could finish her fourth exhale, the door was opened to reveal the woman who has not left her mind ever since signing up for that damned site.

“I grew tired of watching you hyperventilate so I thought I’d do you a favor and open the door for you.”

Y/N almost choked on air as she looks at Rosé for the first time. The pictures on her profile did not do her justice at all. The woman could have graced every billboard or magazine in the city and she wouldn’t even question it.

Y/N did not say anything - did not know what to say. She was conscious of the smirking woman standing before her, dressed in a white dress that stopped just above her knees.

“Do you wanna come in, Y/N?” Rosé’s voice was dripping with amusement, eyebrows raised. Shyness wasn’t usually Y/N’s gig so what the hell was going on?

“Yeah, sure.”

Once she entered the threshold that Rosé called home, she immediately noticed how fancy and expensive everything was. She was immediately drawn to the large window overlooking the whole city. The glass was so clear that it looked like a high definition screen at the movie theatre.

Rosé quickly picked up on her fascination, grabbing hold of Y/N’s hand and leading her to the glass window. “Cool, huh? I picked this unit because of the view. The city below is so far away it's like another world. This penthouse is my cocoon and the window, well, the window shows me as much detail as I want to know.”

Y/N could only stare at their joined hands and then to the woman beside her, intoxicated by her words. “It’s beautiful, Rosé. I’d kill to wake up to this every way. You have great taste.”

“Yeah I do have great taste huh?” Rosé looked her up and down, biting her lip before chuckling. (Y/N swears she saw the gates of heaven open at the sound)

•

A few hours later after a candle lit dinner prepared by Rosé herself and a bottle of wine, Y/N finds herself straddled in the living room couch being kissed roughly on the neck as pure pleasure runs through her entire body.

“Fuck,” she pants as she feels Rosé grind on her. Unable to control herself anymore, Y/N holds Rosé’s head in her hands and pulls her into a fiery and passionate kiss.

“Someone couldn’t wait,” Rosé smiled against their lips.

With a laugh, Y/N pushed Rosé down on the couch, switching their positions, not breaking the kiss. Y/N’s hands slowly work their way around her body, tugging on Rosé’s dress.

“Off.”

Rosé sat up slightly, allowing Y/N to pull down the zipper of her dress, feeling skilled fingers unhook her bra. Rosé tears it off herself before reattaching their lips. Immediately, Y/N’s hands found itself on Rosé’s breasts as she tugged on her nipples.

Rosé gasps against her lips causing Y/N to pull away, making her way down and sucking on the skin surrounding Rosé’s breasts before soothing it out with her tongue.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you but I’m not complaining,” Rosé giggles but whimpers midway as she feels Y/N’s tongue latch onto her nipple.

“Probably the wine.”

Y/N couldn’t help but think that their bodies fit together as if they were made just for this, to fall into one another, to feel this natural rhythm.

Y/N’s hands drop to Rosé’s thighs, caressing her from above her panties. Rosé moans at the feeling of the soft silk rubbing against her as Y/N’s mouth still busied herself with her nipple.

“Oh my god.”

Rosé grips her hand tightly onto Y/N’s hair as she feels the wetness between her legs. “Take your clothes off. I wanna see you.”

Y/N stops devouring her nipple to pull her shirt off. Rosé drops her hands to the zipper of Y/N’s jeans pulling it down and slipping her own hand in.

“Good to know I’m not the only one dripping wet,” she teases.

Before she could begin her sweet torture on Y/N, she feels hands finally moving inside her panties and her mind went blank.

Fingers toyed with her nub making Rosé bite down on Y/N’s shoulder. Thumb continuing to rub Rosé’s nub, Y/N slipped two fingers in. Rosé moaned so loud that Y/N swears it was enough to get her off.

Pumping her fingers around Rosé, Y/N felt a smirk making its way on her face. She couldn’t believe she was on top of the godly woman seeing her face all scrunched up in ecstasy. She feels Rosé pulling her in for another heated kiss as she picks up her pace inside the woman. With every moan and whimper coming out of Rosé’s mouth, Y/N feels her own wetness.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Y/N mutters under her breath.

She could feel Rosé getting close as the woman’s grinding on her fingers became sloppier and her breaths became more uneven. Burying her face on Y/N’s shoulder, Rosé tries to stifle her moans as she finally comes undone.

Y/N slowly leaves feathery kisses up and down Rosé’s neck as she waits for her to come down from her high.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.” she hears Rosé trying to catch her breath. “I honestly wasn’t expecting you to take charge tonight.”

“Maybe I’m just full of surprises,” Y/N grinned, pressing a kiss on Rosé’s temple.

Rosé slowly sat up as Y/N leaves her place on top of her. “I guess you are.”

They both sat in silence as they picked up their clothes scattered on the floor before putting them back on. Rosé was the first one to break the ice as she reaches for her purse on the wooden table. It was at that moment Y/N remembered why she was even there in the first place. Disappointment stabbed through her like a knife. Somehow during the duration of the night, she made herself forget that she was there because of an agreement made online. As if she was there spending the night with a new lover, both milking the feeling of a love that just arrived. The night started out like a sweet melody of a blackbird -- full of promise, freshness, and newness to come. Now it sat like a cold cup of coffee waiting to be drained away. All of a sudden, she felt dirty and used and all she had to blame was herself. Rosé’s words from a few hours ago during dinner echoed through her head.

I signed up because I have no time for relationships. I’m just too busy for that. It saves me the hassle of meeting new people and having to get to know them, y’know?

And truthfully, no, Y/N didn’t know. She remembers Lisa telling her she loves like a puppy - devoted, playful, and trusting. So, no, Y/N didn’t know. She just didn’t roll the way Rosé rolled.

“Here you go,” Rosé reached out with a wad of cash in her hand. “Go treat yourself. You deserve it.”

It was the way Rosé said it, so confident and smug, that Y/N knew that she was not Rosé’s first rodeo. The woman sounded like she does it so often that she just didn’t care anymore.

“How many girls receive this same amount of cash?” Y/N laughs quietly and she hopes it didn’t sound as bitter as she felt.

“A couple a week,” Rosé grins so nonchalantly it makes Y/N stomach churn. “Why?”

“Nothing,” Y/N awkwardly shifts in her place on the couch. “Um, you really don’t need to. I’m not looking for cash.”

Rosé actually looked shocked at the girl’s statement. “I’m a little bit lost here.”

“I signed up because I was bored and curious not because I’m low on money,” she laughs keeping an unamused tone. “I really didn’t expect to reach this far ahead. So, you can keep your money Rosé.”

Y/N got up and started walking towards the door. She was halfway there when she felt Rosé grab her wrist.

“Why do you sound angry? Don’t act as if you didn’t know why I invited you here, Y/N.” Rosé looked at her confused. “We met through Seeking Arrangements for god’s sake. I thought we had a good time.”

Rosé did have a good time. Aside from the mind-blowing sex, she was impressed by Y/N’s ability to be present during a conversation, always having her own two cents to offer, which lead to a lot of fun and meaningful discourse all throughout dinner. She had never met a woman through that website as enchanting and beautiful as Y/N. Y/N was a smart woman who was good at sex and Rosé liked that. A lot. So why is she being difficult?

Rosé saw different emotions flash through Y/N’s face before settling on a look of defeat. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I did have a good time.”

Y/N stepped closer to Rosé. “I loved being here with you and money was never on my mind tonight. Maybe that’s why I reacted that way. I’m sorry. I joined Seeking Arrangements for fun because honestly…I was lonely and bored and looking for some sort of human connection and that’s what you gave me tonight. I just got lucky that you reached out. That was all I needed I promise.”

She offers Rosé a genuine smile before turning to leave once more. “Have a good rest of your night, Rosé.”

Y/N hears footsteps behind her as Rosé opens the door for her, a smile planted on her face. “You’re something else, Y/N.”

Before the door closes, Rosé speaks once more. “It’s Rosie now by the way.”

The last thing she saw was the woman throwing her a wink before the door finally closed.

#blackpink #blackpink x reader #blackpink imagine #rosé x reader #rosé imagine #blackpink scenarios

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