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unbridgeabledistances · 3 years

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hi y’all<3 here’s a new section of the gallavich as seen from alternate POVs fic, this time featuring lip!!!! (i wanted to wait til after the ✨lickey drama✨ in the new ep before posting, but then i decided against it bc i didn’t want to re-write this lol)

i started to have way too many feelings while writing this so it’s a little lengthy and contemplative, but rest assured it features some domestic fluff/ian and mickey being disgustingly in love- i hope u enjoy<3

Lip shuffled into the kitchen of the Gallagher house, opening the fridge door and reaching past the clanging beer bottles to grab a metal soda can on the way back of the shelf, hearing a faint fizz escape as he popped the tab. It was late, the moonlight streaming in across the kitchen through the worn curtains and pooling on the kitchen floor— after Tami had crashed in their bed at the apartment after a long day at work and Freddie was sleeping soundly in his crib, Lip had come by the Gallagher house, without really knowing why. He just needed to clear his head, to get some distance from Tami and all her relentless nagging about moving and apartment hunting and his colossally obvious fuck-up with the bikes— he just needed some space, some less stifling air to breathe outside of their half-packed apartment crammed with boxes lining the walls.

It was funny; no matter how much energy Lip had poured into he and Tami’s first apartment, into painting the walls and agonizing over their kitchen backsplash like it was his first-born son, whenever Lip thought about home, whenever he felt that pit of uneasiness growing in his stomach and he just needed a place where he could lie back on a couch and loosen the knots in his shoulders and breathe in familiar air that would fill him up, instead of the too-clean smell of Tami’s flowery potpourri that she’d placed on the expensive coffee table in their living room— Lip always found his feet leading him across the slabs of sidewalk and past the chain link fences towards the Gallagher house, no matter the time of night. He had only been in the house for a few minutes before he felt the tight-knit something in his chest begin to unfurl— he didn’t even want to start to think about what was lodged there. This had been a crazy fucking couple of months, and he wasn’t going to start getting sappy about selling the house now, not when they were so close. He’d dug a hole too deep this time, and he needed the money. He couldn’t fuck up again— not with Freddie to take care of. No matter what it cost him.

So that’s how Lip ended up sitting at the Gallagher kitchen table at 2 a.m. on a Thursday night, sipping at an overly-sugary pop that was no substitute for what he really wanted to be drinking right now—he could imagine how it would warm the insides of his stomach, how it would cushion whatever weird fucking ache was in his chest right now. But— no. Fuck no. He wasn’t going to do that now. Everything about selling the house, about moving on, was about getting his shit straight— about leaving the bad parts of this sagging roof and these stained floorboards behind him.

Lip slouched in the wooden kitchen chair, scrolling on his phone and finally letting out a breath he didn’t really know he had been holding in all day, when he heard a creaking of footsteps padding at the top of the stairs— too heavy to be Liam or Debbie, too careful and unfumbling to be Frank dragging himself through the house. Lip flickered a glance up from where he was sitting and met Ian’s eyes as he turned the corner of the stairs, his skin looking translucent and overly pale in the moonlight like the ginger motherfucker he was.

Ian nodded his head towards Lip in acknowledgement, like he wasn’t surprised in the slightest that his older brother with a whole ass family and apartment of his own was decidedly squatting in the kitchen of his childhood home, drinking a pathetic-looking can of Dr. Pepper. Ian slid open the fridge door, grabbing a beer and swiftly popping the cap off by knocking the bottle on the side of the counter—and then in an instant it became one of those quiet, familiar nights when it was just Lip and Ian in the kitchen, sometimes letting easy conversations flow between them, but other times, just like this— just sinking into each other’s presence in the silence. Ian’s shadow mingling with the moonlight on the kitchen floor immediately snapped the atmosphere from lonely and self-pitying and stale to something lighter, something familiar—like the worn, buttery leather of a baseball glove that fits just right.

Instantly Lip was brought back to so many nights before this, of he and Ian orbiting each other in the kitchen at night— when they were kids and would creep down the stairs and eat fistfuls of junk food that Fiona had forbidden, or steal warm sips of the open beers Frank had left on the counter. This was where they’d processed Monica’s return, late at night while they passed a cigarette between them and Ian hadn’t tried to hide the tears that were freely rolling down his freckled cheeks, back when they were both just confused kids who clung to each other— this was where they’d processed Frank’s alcoholic meltdowns, too many to count, and all the love and loss and confusion that had passed between these walls, all the collateral damage of living in this fucking neighborhood. And Lip felt a sudden pang in his gut, sharp and present, when he realized that it might be one of the last nights that he and Ian got to spend in the kitchen like this.

Lip immediately shoved the thought down with all his might, a hydraulic press squeezing out any sentimentality. He had to do this— for Freddie, for Tami. He had to man up and move on, even if it meant physically wounding the crumbling walls to ease the pain of the parallel jagged wounds somewhere deep in his chest, or screaming and shouting until veins popped in his neck, so loud that he knew he was radiating his pain outwards like a fucking atomic bomb.

But tonight, Lip had no more fight left to give. He just wanted to let these four walls hold him one last time, without even realizing that was what he had needed until this moment. Ian slid a chair out from the kitchen table and sat beside him, leaning back and dragging out a slow, sleepy breath.

Lip cleared his throat, softly. “Where’s Mick?”

“Passed out upstairs.” Ian scrubbed a hand over his face. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Lip raised his eyebrow, almost involuntarily, and Ian immediately jutted his chin up in a half-nod, an affirmation, as he leaned back even farther and took the first sip of his beer. No, he wasn’t manic and yes, he was fine. After all the years that had passed since Ian was still figuring this shit out, Lip sometimes forgot that checking in on him wasn’t really his job, not anymore.

Lip took another sip from his soda can, a movement to fill the easy silence. “How was your guys’ night?”

Ian shrugged non-committally, his shoulders still slumped back in the chair, his lips puckered around the mouth of the bottle as he stared off into the distance at the peeling kitchen wallpaper. “Eh. It was fine. I dragged Mickey out to try and make more gay friends. Ended up being a mistake.”

Lip held back a laugh, taking a sip from his own drink to mask his smirk. He had ample auditory evidence that Mickey was plenty as gay as Ian, but it was still hard to imagine Mickey leaning into all of this shit— Ian used to wear golden underwear and frequent gay clubs and go to social justice brunches, but none of that really seemed like it was Mickey’s scene.

“Oh yeah? Mickey not the easiest person to befriend?” Lip said it with his eyebrows raised, like the joke was obvious.

Ian looked up at him, like he’d been snapped out of a sleepy train of thought, staring earnestly like Lip’s jab had flown right over his head. “Actually, it was kind of my fault. I was the one who made us leave this dinner party thing we got invited to. They were all talking shit about the Southside, about how they hated their families, and I couldn’t really… connect with them, I guess.”

Lip pondered that, taking a breath and stretching his arms above his head. God, he was sore— he hadn’t even been fucking working, aside from hauling those bikes from place to place to avoid the cops, but all the pent up stress and tension was starting to linger in his bones.

“Yeah, it was the same for me. In college, or whatever. Joaquin was the only person I really talked to, because he got all the shit I was always going through.”

Ian nodded contemplatively—but he was staring off into space again, almost like he was half asleep. Lip took another sip of his soda. He could bring up the house shit again right now—it was all that they’d been talking about for the past few weeks—but for some reason it felt too raw, too intense to bring up right now, like it would cut through this peaceful moment, this island in the vast sea of uncertainty Lip knew he was bringing down on all of their heads. So in this moment, he opted for smoother waters.

“Why’d you guys go looking for new friends, anyways?”

Ian finally broke out of whatever drowsy, pensive trance he’d been in, his lips sloping into a smile. “Mickey kept giving me shit for always doing what you do, after breakfast today. I figured… I don’t know, I just got all pissy and tried to prove him wrong.”

Lip felt the corner of his mouth tick upward at that. “Guess you’re stuck with me.”

Ian grinned, and held out his beer bottle, stretching his arm across the table. Lip tapped it with his soda can with a light “Cheers,” then took the final sip. He crushed the can to a disk on the table, pressing it down firmly with the heel of his palm and watching the sides compress. Ian’s eyes were cast downward at the table, watching his movements.

“How’s stuff with you and Tami going, all the packing and shit?”

Lip turned the flattened can on its side, contemplatively spinning it like a top on the table and fidgeting with it between his fingers.

“Honestly? I’m fucking exhausted.”

He could hear the breathiness as he said it, how deflated his own voice sounded. And Lip knew could make himself say more— he knew if anyone would get it, Ian would.

“It’s just… fuck, man.”

He looked up and Ian was staring directly at him now, his expression unguarded— listening. Listening like he always did in these moments. Lip let out a low chuckle, trying to shield his own vulnerability.

“How’d we get so fucking old? How is this… it, y’know? Finally leaving the fucking nest, or whatever.”

Ian smiled, placing his beer on the table. “I think you already left the nest when you had a baby and moved into an apartment with your girlfriend.”

Lip shrugged, fiddling with the crushed can again between his fingertips. “Yeah. Guess you’re right.”

“And you are the one making us do this, for the record.”

If Ian’s tone wasn’t as playful or as tentative as it was, Lip would have worried that he was upset— but judging by Ian’s still-comfortable slouch and his steady expression, Lip knew he was fine— he was weathering the storm, just like Lip was.

Ian leaned forward.

“Hey. Mickey was giving me shit—but it is true. You’re my best friend, even though you can be a fucking asshole sometimes.” Ian’s lips curved into a crooked smile. “Nothing’s gonna change that.”

Ian’s eyes flickered around the kitchen as he spoke, and Lip heard everything that was unsaid. Even though you’re kicking us out of the house. Even though you’re changing everything. Even though there isn’t a focal point to our lives anymore.

You’re my best friend.

And Lip felt that pang in his gut again, sharp like a dagger.

He’d said it before, and he’d had no problem saying it over and over again in Mickey’s absence, up until the months before the wedding— Ian did always go a little bit “loco” when Mickey was around.

Which, fuck him, I guess, for caring about his little brother with an undiagnosed mental illness who was off living in the Milkovich House of Horrors slash meth lab with Mickey fucking Milkovich, the bully with greasy hair who Lip wrote papers for in high school and who now was a literal, actual, godforsaken pimp. Lip had seen a teenage Ian bruised and drunk and curled into himself crying over Mickey too many times to ever think that this shit was a good idea— and years later, when Ian almost threw away everything, almost threw away stability and sanity and his fucking family to follow Mickey Milkovich across the Mexican border, Lip knew he had to say something, even though it was an unspoken rule that he and Ian didn’t really critique each other’s love lives since the Mandy-and-Karen fiascos of years past.

So he’d said it, that day in the kitchen, after Ian had returned on a Greyhound bus and they were still processing the dull pain of Monica’s loss— and Ian had taken the feedback with a closed-lip smile, like his head was somewhere else, as he picked at the corner of the beer bottle label with his thumb.

And then less than a year later Mickey was released anyways, and ended up standing in a tank top and boxers in the middle of the Gallagher living room, when the house was crawling with strangers and Freddie was barely two weeks old— and Lip had taken in a sharp breath, a bundle of hesitant nerves sprouting for whatever the fuck this situation was going to become; but not one that he could really give attention to, with all the other bullshit that was pulling at his focus, like the desperate screeching of his newborn kid and the mascara running down Tami’s face.

Later that night, when he’d had a spare moment to breathe and Tami was finally calmed down and sleeping in their cramped bedroom, he’d run into Ian in the moonlit hallway as he was stumbling his way out of the bathroom, drowsily rubbing his eyes with his hair sticking up. And Lip had stopped him with a whisper, placing a hand to tap Ian’s shoulder as Ian blinked the sleep from his eyes.

“Hey. So uh… I see Mickey’s out.”

He’d seen the defenses immediately raise in Ian’s eyes, like he knew what Lip was going to say next.

“Yeah.” Ian had said it soft, quietly, like he was afraid of someone waking.

You sure that’s a good idea? Lip could feel the words itching on the tip of his tongue, and he was aching to say them again, all these years later— and yes, maybe his head was so wrapped up in his own shit that he didn’t really have the authority to be doling out relationship advice to his little brother right now, but so much of this reminded him of things that had happened in the past, of Mickey Milkovich crashing on Ian’s bedroom floor until he inevitably couldn’t anymore, until the pressure cooker of his presence mingled with Ian’s inevitably exploded— or at least that was how Lip saw it. There were too many wounds, and they were bound to leave scars— Lip was honestly surprised as fuck that the Gallagher house was Mickey’s first stop out of prison, after everything that had gone down between the two of them.

But, for Ian’s sake, Lip tried to reign it in—despite the fact that they’d just been commiserating about “being in love with crazy people” as they crouched on the living room stairs the night before as Ian sipped on a beer, sputtering out a “fuck no” when Lip asked if he was going to marry Mickey (which was an equally as batshit question as if Lip was going to marry Tami). Despite all of this— now that Mickey was back, Lip could see that this was something Ian wanted, that this was something Ian was treading carefully into, one more time. He was definitely stronger now; even Lip could see that.

“He gonna be hanging around here a while?”

Ian had given a gentle, sleepy smile. “Yeah. Think so.”

And Lip had just reached out, and clapped Ian’s sleep-warmed body on the shoulder. “Sounds good, man.”

Ian had walked the remaining length of the hallway, opening the bedroom door— and in the shadows, Lip could see that Mickey was curled on the old, concave mattress of Ian’s single bed that he’d slept on since they were kids— and Ian had lifted the thin blanket and pressed up next to him, the mattress sinking beneath their collective weight, settling in and pressing a kiss to the top of a snoring Mickey’s head without a second thought. Huh.

That was the beginning of Lip starting to realize that maybe, just maybe, this time with Mickey would be different— and it was. As Mickey started to become a daily fixture in the Gallagher house, constantly pinned to Ian’s side, Lip had noticed how something solid had shifted—they weren’t reckless kids anymore, for starters. He hadn’t really seen Mick and Ian physically together since Ian was catapulting off the deep end, in the weeks after Ian had gotten dragged away by the P.I.s and Mickey had gotten locked up for some crazy fucking stunt trying to murder Sammy. Things were too intense then, too technicolor—for some reason, Lip thought Mickey being back meant that they’d return to being that way.

But now here was this guy, placing a gentle hand on Ian’s chest and saying “Woah, wait a minute” to protect Ian from the batshit P.O. that had just barged through the door—and Lip couldn’t help but realize that was something that he would have done to protect Ian, in a universe where Mickey was still behind bars.

After then, Lip just kept seeing it— the ways that Mickey showed up for Ian. Not even in the ways that he used to, like forcing Ian to take his meds back when everything was uncertain and Ian was slipping through their fingers like sand in a sieve; but in a more solid, adult way, in a way that made Ian buzz whenever he was around him, in a way that made Ian happier and lighter. And maybe it was just the sex—part of it had to be the fucking sex, considering how loud they always were— but Lip realized, after a couple of weeks of Mickey’s presence in the house before their whole eventual engagement fiasco, that Mickey was Ian’s friend, in addition to all the other things he was. After all the years of uncertainty, they’d finally grown the fuck up— Mickey was someone who brought out the best in Ian, and it was like Ian had been waiting for this moment, for Mickey by his side, before he could fully and totally bloom.

And it was weird how emotional that made Lip— after seeing Ian as a hollow shell in a jumpsuit pushing garbage cans around a college campus, or pretending to be someone he wasn’t who wore patterned button-up shirts and threw around fucking useless five-dollar words that Lip didn’t understand like “gender identity” and “intersectionality”— Ian had finally made it, beyond being the bruised, scrawny kid getting sexually abused by a creepy 30 year old man in the back room of a mini-mart, or getting high off his ass every night and starving himself to fit into a golden thong, or wearing a baggy janitor suit with dark circles under his eyes and pallid skin. Ian had done that shit on his own, and made himself into something in Mickey’s absence, sure— but so much of him being the full, happy person he was in this moment was because of Mickey, and Lip could see that now.

Ian was himself— he wasn’t a shadow anymore.

And that was why Lip had said he thought he should marry Mickey, in the end— because there was no doubt in his mind that Mickey Milkovich wasn’t going anywhere, not anytime soon.

Lip could still see it now, in the way that Ian was lounging comfortably in the living room, like he had his whole life— but now Mickey was resting just as comfortably beside him. It was a few weeks after that night in the kitchen, and Lip had just pitched the FOR SALE sign in the Gallagher front yard— now everyone was huddled in the living room, for what they now knew was one of their last lingering nights in this space. Liam was sitting next to Lip, pressed into his side, seeking the comfort that Lip knew he needed through all of these massive fucking changes— Franny was playing on the floor and Debbie was sitting beside her, and across the room Ian and Mickey were pressed side-by-side on the fraying loveseat, scrolling through the lease document for their new apartment on the battered laptop. They were murmuring things to each other that Lip couldn’t really make out— but Mickey was pressed against Ian, slouching into him slightly, and Ian’s eyes were light. In his flicker of a glance towards them, Lip noticed that Mickey was playing with Ian’s hand, swiping a finger over his wedding ring, as Ian scrolled through the paperwork and started to read all the contract information out loud— and Lip smiled to himself as he tried to tune out all the sappy bullshit that was going on in that corner of the room.

Ian was going to be just fine.

Hour later Lip strode out the door to the front porch, a cigarette he’d bummed off of Ian wrapped in his fist— he didn’t smoke anymore, especially not under the same roof as Tami, but there was something about the gravity of this night, of the flimsy red and white sign rooted in the front yard, that made Lip’s fingertips itch for a cigarette and made his brain buzz with the want of nicotine to dull the sharp edges of everything he was feeling—for smoke to float in front of his face while he sat on the front steps just one more time.

He perched on the front steps as the sun was just starting to set, the fish-scale shadows of the chain link fence encroaching further and further into the yard as he flicked at his lighter.

He heard a light cough from somewhere in front of him— and saw that Mickey was outside too, blowing smoke out of his mouth and leaning against the fence in the front yard facing the house. Lip nodded at him in acknowledgement, then took the first drag. Fuck, he’d needed this.

“You gonna miss this place?”

Mickey said it into the open air, like he isn’t really talking to Lip— his eyes were off in the distance, staring at the paint-chipped front façade of the house. Which was fucking bullshit—why would Mickey be staring absentmindedly, almost fucking wistfully, at the Gallagher house?

It’s not like he and Mickey didn’t talk— they definitely did, pragmatically flinging banter across the kitchen to each other at breakfast when coordinating rides for Liam or grocery list items when Debbie was off at work, existing in the same space every morning— and Mickey helped him haul literal tons of iron when he’d helped him steal the bikes, had haggled over his cut. But never like this—never with any weight, never in a way that was this casual, or this familial, about fucking feelings.

Part of that was probably because it was hard as fuck to worm your way into the Gallagher family—as wide open as their door always seemed to be, with people filtering in and out and crashing on hallway floors or the lumpy couch, this house only continued to function because of its nucleus— because of Lip and Ian and Carl and Debbie and Fiona and Liam and yes, even Frank. Everyone else was a passerby, an impermanent blip crossing through the way station; Jimmy-Steve, Sean, Carl’s slew of girls, Mandy and Karen.

Monica.

None of them were Gallaghers— none of them considered this place to be home, or got all the privileges that came with that. The Gallaghers, the real Gallaghers, had seen every one of these people come and go— and something slippery suddenly crept into Lip’s realization that despite all the odds, despite all of his doubts about him—Mickey had chosen to stay close to these four walls just as much as Lip had.

“Mickey’s family.” Ian had said it over a mouthful of bacon at breakfast a few weeks ago, and Lip had immediately shot him down; but maybe there was some truth to what Ian had said, some truth to the oddly unfailing consistency to Mickey’s ten years. Which meant that maybe…

Maybe it was time to make a fucking peace offering, or whatever.

Lip hummed in acknowledgement to Mickey’s question, pulling himself out of his train of thought.

“Hey. Mick.”

Mickey looked up at where Lip was leaning on the porch, his brows furrowing like he was bracing himself for a confrontation. “Yeah?”

“My head’s been too far up my ass the past couple of months to say it, but, uh. I’m glad you’re family, y’know?”

He’d been passively thinking it for months— but he’d never said it to Mickey, never this directly. He hoped Mickey got it, without brushing it off or shooting him down with some snarky fucking comment like he always did. Lip meant it— he was glad, he was grateful, he was ready to let Mickey Milkovich keep being a part of his fucked up familial life. And he hoped that Mickey saw that.

Mickey just rolled his eyes, taking another drag of his cigarette—but he didn’t say anything in reply, not for a moment. And then:

“You’re as sappy as your fucking brother, Phillip.”

#i’ve said it once and ill say it again nothing makes me more emo than ian and mickey sharing ian’s old bed #also sorry this was kinda ANGSTY what can i say #lip is Too Much #gallavich #gallavich fic #shameless #shameless fic #gallavich fanfiction #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #lip gallagher #ian and mickey #ian x mickey #ixm

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sfb123 · 3 years

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Roses are Red

Book: The Nanny Affair

Pairing: Sam Dalton x Anna Schuyler/Mason & Mickey and Anna Schuyler (friendship)

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Rating: PG (pure fluff, but it’s Sam, so he makes some allusions to things)

Word Count: 1,161

Notes: I wanted to make a Valentine’s fic. You’d think, with my writing history, I would have written something in the Royal Romance world, but the only inspiration that came to me was this Nanny Affair fluff. I know it’s also weird that it’s fluff and not smut, but fuck it, who am I to conform to expectations? It’s not much, just a little idea that popped into my head last night.

Tags: Got them below! Since my main tag list is for TRR stuff, I’m only tagging my TNA fam (if I missed you, I love you and I’m sorry I’m the worst 😘). If you’d like to be added to any future TNA fics I may (or may not) write, just let me know!

As Anna approached Mason & Mickey’s bedroom door she noticed a sign taped to it ‘Do Not Enter’. She was afraid of what experiments might be waiting for her on the other side, but their grandparents would be by shortly to pick them up for their sleepover, so she was going to need to overlook the prominently displayed new rule. She knocked on the door, and was quickly greeted by Mickey’s head, he made sure to keep the door closed enough that Anna couldn’t see in.

“Hi Anna, what’s up?”

“What are the two of you doing in there?” She eyed him suspiciously.

“Nothing, we’re just working on a...project. Yea, a project.”

The uncertainty in his voice did little to squash the uneasy feeling Anna had. “You know your grandparents are going to be here soon. Did you finish packing your overnight bags?” She tried to peek past Mickey to catch a glimpse of what was happening, with no luck.

“Oh...um, no. We didn’t do it yet, we’ve been really busy with our project.”

“Alright, enough games. Mickey, you need to let me in here to see what you boys are up to.”

“No, not yet we’re almost -“

“It’s ok Mickey, I finished. She can come in!” Mason interrupted his brother from the other side of the door.

Mickey opened the door and stepped aside so Anna could enter. As soon as she crossed the threshold she was greeted by an assault of glitter and construction paper littered all around the room. “Boys, what is all of this? This is one of your messiest experiments yet.”

Anna had known the boys for just about a year, when she came into their lives, she was their nanny. In the months to follow, she entered a whirlwind affair and subsequent romance with their father, Sam Dalton. It had been 6 months since Sam left Sofia at the altar and rushed, with the boys, to the airport to stop her from disappearing from their lives forever. They had been a family ever since. While Anna wasn’t on the payroll anymore, it didn’t seem appropriate once she officially became Sam’s girlfriend, she still took care of the boys just the way she had before. Before Anna had met the twins, she didn’t have much experience with kids. She figured working for the CMO of Dalton Enterprises, in any capacity, would be a foot in the door to her career as a chemist. Then she met Mason and Mickey, and she was so taken by their excitement and enthusiasm to learn and experiment, and she knew that was exactly where she needed to be.

“It’s not an experiment Anna, it’s for you!” Mason took her hand and guided her to the table on the other side of the room, motioning for her to sit. “Ok, now close your eyes”

Anna did as she was instructed and put her hands over her eyes. She could hear some shuffling around, and shook her head, picturing Mickey and Mason shoving each other around trying to get in place.

“Ok, open them!” The twins said in unison.

Anna opened her eyes to see the boys holding up a large piece of red paper covered in glitter and lace and hearts. “What’s all this?”

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” They handed the card to Anna.

She red the card:

Roses are red

Violets are blue

We’re glad our dad loves you

Because we love you too

“Boys. You did this for me?” Anna looked up at them with a bright smile that the boys matched as they nodded their heads. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Yes we did.” Mason said matter of factly. “Dad says that on Valentine’s Day, you’re supposed to show the special people in your life how important they are to you. Besides dad, you’re the most special person we have.”

Anna’s eyes began to well, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

“We’re sorry Anna, we didn’t mean to make you sad! This was supposed to make you happy!” Mickey was very concerned, and couldn’t understand how their plan could have backfired so spectacularly.

“Yea, if you’re upset about the mess, I promise we will clean it up all by ourselves. You don’t have to do any of it!” Mason added.

Anna laughed as she shook her head and wiped away another tear. “No boys, these are happy tears. I’m so honored that you would work so hard on this just for me. I love you both so much.” She held her arms open and the boys ran straight for her, engulfing her in a hug.

“Well, I guess I’m going to have to up my Valentine’s Day game if I’m going to compete with all of this.” The three of them turned their heads to the doorway and saw Sam leaning against the frame with his arms crossed.

“I don’t know, I’ve already got two guys that want to be my valentine, I might not have room for a third.” She smirked as she rose from her seat and walked toward Sam.

“I’m sure I can convince you.” He put his arms around her waist and pulled her in for a quick kiss before leaning in to whisper in her ear. “After what I plan to do to you tonight, I have a feeling I’ll be able to convince you that the sky is green.”

The warmth of his breath mixed with the feeling of his lips brushing against her ear sent a tingle down Anna’s spine. Sam could tell, and had a sly grin on his face as he pulled back. Winking at her before turning his attention to Mason and Mickey. “Boys, your grandparents just got here. Why don’t you go keep them company while Anna and I get your things together?”

“Sure, dad!” The boys ran out into the living room, leaving Sam and Anna alone.

“You pack for Mason, I’ll get Mickey.” Sam kissed her again and led her into the twin’s room. “Let’s get them out of here so I can finally have you all to myself.”

“We’re going to have to clean up all of this first.” She gestured to the glittery mess that covered the space.

“Says who? The boys can clean all this up when they get home tomorrow.” Sam pulled her close and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “I don’t want to delay our Valentine’s date a moment longer than I have to.”

“You know, the boys set the bar pretty high with that card.” Anna raised one eyebrow.

“Oh I know, I saw the whole thing. Don’t worry, I’m sure I can rise to the challenge.” He replied with a wink.

She laughed, slapping his chest playfully. “Alright Dalton, enough of that, let’s get the boys packed and out of here.”

They separated and continued to pack for the twin’s overnight trip, so that they could spend the first of many Valentine’s Days together.

Tags: @txemrn @pixie88 @khoicesbyk @aussieez @shewillreadyou @fanjessfic @secretaryunpaid @thefrenchiemama @lucy-268 @shannonwrote

#pixelberry #choices #choices stories you play #playchoices #choices the nanny affair #the nanny affair #tna sam #choices sam dalton #sam dalton x mc #sam dalton

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gallavictorious · 3 years

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bottom!mickey nonnie here, i had some more thoughts in response to your reply, if you don't mind? :) i can see where the trust aspect might come into play for mickey re: bottoming and i understand your thought process. the only thing that makes me doubt that is how quickly that trust must have been established between him and ian if that is the case. they haven't been fucking for that long when kash walks in on them (which is the first instance we actually know mickey bottoms). i suppose that there could have been a lot of off-screen developments and interactions, but it's too quick imo. their relationship in season one seems more puppy-love to me rather than a deep bond (which i see as starting to form in season two). the way i see it, the only level of trust that needs to be established is "i know you won't tell anyone because you're also closeted and you won't treat me like a bitch because if you do, i'll beat you tf up and just never fuck you again" which is pretty shallow and something mickey could probably have reached with other guys, too. idk, i just don't see their relationship in season one as deep enough for mickey to start trusting ian with things he's worried or insecure about. it makes more sense to me that he lets ian fuck him because it's not that big a deal, rather than because he's already let ian past his walls. we know that ian is all in by that point, but i just don't think mickey is. he likes ian, is drawn to him (probably against his better judgement), but that's as far as it goes, as i see him. since there are such few scenes between them in season one we have no choice but to make our own interpretations, and those are bound to differ. i've just never seen mickey indicate that he thinks bottoming = being a bitch, or even that it's something he worries about. the only thing to support that would be his attitude to prison, but like i said before, i don't think mickey views sex in prison the same as he views sex on the outside. he probably views everything in prison differently. on the outside, with guys who share his secret? i don't think it's too much of a stretch that he would just do what he wants. the danger is the same either way. just my interpretation of him, of course :)

Hiya, Bottom!Mickey Nonnie No. 1!

I don't mind one little bit; in fact, I'm delighted! Apart from enjoying the fun discussion, it's always gratifying to hear back from anons: you usually never actually know if your answer has reached them.

First off, you're damned right it's quick! I personally don't subscribe to the idea that Mickey knew that Ian was gay or had a crush on him preceding their 1x07 tryst (nothing wrong with that notion, btw, it just doesn't appeal to me), so when they suddenly start tearing off each other's clothes that's very sudden. I tend to assume there might have a tiny bit of vague interest prior to this, the proximity and tussling triggers mutual attraction, they both spring boners, and yeah, off they go? You're also quite right in (implicitly) pointing out that we don't know that they had penetrative sex at that time – maybe they moved up from mutual handjobs or just plain grinding to something more a few trysts later. Either way, you make a good point about the danger of sex outside of lock-up would be the same regardless of whether Mickey bottoms or not. I'd never really thought about that before, so thank you for pointing that out!

However, it's probable that the reason I haven't thought very much about it is because when I speak of Mickey's easy trust for Ian I don't primarily mean him trusting Ian not to reveal his secrets to anyone else, but trust him to know Mickey in a way others are not allowed – and here we disagree and that is fine. :) If you see Mickey as unbothered by being into bottoming, you can certainly find support for that in the narrative. We do have the famous ”liking what I like”-line, which absolutely can be taken at face value! The fact that I tend to interpret it as (partly) Mickey being deliberately unapologetic because he feels a bit uneasy about his preferences and is somewhat defensive about Ian's brief allusions to common prejudices around bottoming, has more to do with my assumption that – given Mickey's circumstances – this is something that Mickey's likely to feel insecure about. He's internalized his father's homophobia to some degree; it just seems reasonable to me that he'd have internalized Terry's strong conviction that Milkoviches don't bottom too. (He certainly seems ready to embody that when he attacks Ian's army fuck buddy in season 3, citing the need to kick him straight because he's the one taking it up the ass. However, that could also totally performative or seen as him making a twisted kind of in-joke, so it's hardly conclusive.) Furthermore, I feel that it's not unreasonable to question Mickey's sincerity in regards to the line mentioned above, since we do have instances of him acting seemingly geuninely dismissive even when we know he probably cares quite a bit. I'm thinking primarily about his reaction to Ian's sex strike in season 11; I just don't buy he was unbothered by that, but there's nothing in the way he expresses his lack of concern that suggests it's insincere. This doesn't mean that I think my reading of the line is the correct one, though, just that it's a possible reading given what else we know of Mickey.

But of course, this really is just my assumptions and interpretations. It's very possible to infer from his actions onscreen that Mickey is totally unconcerned about bottoming, and always has been. After all, Mickey is in many ways a genuinely confident person, and I think this extends to his sex life. (I just think there's insecurity and concern, too... Basically, I think Mickey's relationship with his own sexuality and preferences is complicated, a paradoxical tangle of confidence and shame. I find this complexity is fascinating, and if we're being honest that's probably one of the reasons why I'm not so eager to let go of the notion of it.)

That said, though, and regardless of whether or not bottomingrequires any particular trust on Mickey's part, I think we dohave some concrete evidence of Mickey letting Ian past his walls already in 1x07. Not the sex – because we don't know anything about that – but the return of the gun after. That look on Mickey's face just then? That's vulnerability. He knows that by giving the weapon back when he doesn't have to, he shows hint of a softness he can ill afford people to know he possesses at this point. It's walls dropped, if only for a moment, and I just don't see him allowing that with many – if any – other people. While it isvery quick and while there's no telling whyor how, I firmly believe that there is an immediate trust between them that goes beyond just sex. It might not be logical, but I think it's there, and that this easy, natural understanding is a huge part of what has them coming back to each other again and again in spite of the odds being stacked overwhelmingly against them. Like you, though, I don't see this as a deep bond or anything, not this early. Ian falls in love quickly and easily; for Mickey is a much slower process, because he fights even the possibility of it tooth and claw.

And ah, I'm aware that in my first response to you I promised to elaborate on my thoughts on Mickey's stint in Mexico in my reply to Bottom!Mickey Nonnie No. 2, but I ended up cutting that because it got absurdly long in comparision to my notes on what they were actuallyasking about, and that didn't seem fair or relevant to them. However, I now have a third (and a fourth... apparently this is a subject dear to your hearts, sweet followers) Bottom!Mickey Nonnie in my inbox, so if this is something you're interested in, despair not! We'll get there!

Thank you so much for getting in touch, both with your first ask and with this follow-up. I've enjoyed reading your thoughts, and developing my own in response to them, immensely! I highly value being able to civilly disagree and argue viewpoints without either side feeling the need to convince the other, so this has been a real treat. <3

#for a person who isn't very interested in smut at all #i sure have a lot of thoughts on this #mickey milkovich #gallavich #meta #asks #my stuff

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formeandmyfics · 3 years

Text

Jugenea Fic

I’LL NEVER STOP WANTING YOU

When an almost divorced, and recently dumped, Judy goes out looking for a good time at an unfamiliar nightclub, Gene refuses to let her leave with a stranger.

1943

The streets of Metro’s east lot were quiet and empty as Gene walked down the black pavement waving through a lawn between rehearsal halls. The pavement was dewy as it just finished raining and the July air was muggy, sounds of crickets filled his ears.

He had his hands in his pockets and his steps were slow. It was after nine o’clock but he wasn’t in a hurry to get to his car. In fact, he wasn’t in a hurry to get home either. Like everyone else on a Friday evening, normally he would have already been out of there, but that was when he had something exciting to get to.

Judy crossed his mind. This time last year, while filming ‘My Gal’, the two couldn’t wait to meet up at Ciro’s on a Friday evening. They would dance and laugh and have fun with friends then end the night rolling around the back seat of his car like love struck teenagers. Frequently he would get off to her BJ or she to his fingers, but rarely they’d actually make love in the vehicle. That was mostly done in their trailers at the studio where they had privacy.

Lately, the only thing he looked forward to after work was Kerry. But right now she was out east with his parents for a few weeks, letting his family spend time with her during the summer.

He had just gotten back from filming in Europe and he and Betsy seemed to be off track again. He wanted to get back on it, but his determination that he had to fix his marriage, back when they had the baby last October, just wasn’t there as much as it used to be. He didn’t even feel like going to Ciro’s. If Judy was there, he was afraid he’d slip right back into what he tried so hard to avoid to work on his marriage. But, if she ended up not being there, he knew he’d also be disappointed. She was still his friend and gave him so much joy. He missed her sense of humor.

After the new year, they ended their affair. He wanted it more than her, he could tell, but she wanted one last shot at saving her new, but defeating marriage to Dave. Shortly after, he heard about her nervous collapse on the set of ‘Girl, Crazy’ followed by three weeks of rest. Roger informed him, over coffee in the commissary one day, that it was that God-damn Busby that was the result. Gene suspected their split was a part of it as well, though he never asked her. Never had a chance.

In March they reunited to record a radio adaptation of their picture, and Judy sent him flirtatious signals that only he would recognize, but he made a point to ignore them. She remained cordial.

Four months.

He hadn’t seen her, or spoken to her, for four months. He read about her in the paper, spoke of her with mutual friends, heard her on the radio, but hadn’t seen her lovely face since then. Gene knew one thing; he was coming off a withdrawal from Judy Garland and it wasn’t fun. It was a total downer.

Gene jingled his car keys in his pocket as he could see the east parking lot up ahead, but he felt something in that moment that people rarely felt there: peace. It was the most deserted and silent he had ever heard Metro. Except for a janitor or construction worker rolling by on a golf cart, he was alone. It felt nice. He sat down on a bench outside Goldwyn Hall, a two-story brick building, named after one of the studio’s founding fathers. Upstairs were vocal rehearsal rooms and downstairs were songwriter and lyricist's offices. Gene had spent a lot of time in that building when he first came to Metro last year.

After Gene sat down, he bent his head forward, as he rested his elbows on his knees, and spun his keys around his finger. But, an echo of music started playing behind him. It was piano. He quickly grasped his keys to silence them when he heard Judy’s voice. His first initial reaction was that someone had the radio on or was playing back a recording, but her voice went from faint then got stronger.

Gene lifted his head when he heard her stop, then start over again. That was her. He turned around on the bench and looked up at the second story window that was open and the light was on. He felt his heart flutter when he realized she was up there. Gene double checked his watch. She wasn’t working this late was she? Maybe with Roger? His office was downstairs. Curious, but also failing to stop the urge to see her again, he got up and walked inside.

Judy was sitting alone at the piano in one of the small rehearsal rooms, her beautiful and distinctive voice bouncing off of every corner, as she sang, and played, ‘But Not For Me’.

Gene was leaning his shoulder on the wall, behind the see-through, glass door as he watched her. Even though the door was shut, he could still clearly hear her. She was lost in the song, playing by heart, singing with certain expressions; it was as if she were still in front of the cameras.

When Judy mindlessly glanced up, she did a double take, seeing him. Through the sound of music, she could suddenly hear her own heartbeat thudding. She was surprised to see him, but at the same time, wasn’t. He tended to show up at places like this, at the strangest of times. She noted how handsome, and relaxed he looked leaning there behind the glass watching her.

She genuinely smiled through a lyric acknowledging him. Her voice didn’t falter nor did the keys.

He had been spotted, Gene thought, and he pulled the door open. She continued the song, her eyes following him as he slowly walked over to the piano. He seemed so shy that his steps were careless, his heels scuffling against the floor.

Leaning his elbows on the piano his eyes didn’t quite catch hers as he listened. Instead, he glanced at the music on top of the piano. He knew she couldn’t read a note of music, that’s why she wasn’t using it. She had this uncanny way of knowing how to sing a song, and play it on piano, once hearing the melody only once, twice at most. Something only he, and a very few others knew, was that she played the piano. She refused to have that small pleasure taken away to be a money making venture.

When her fingers played the last few notes of her current song, she kept her eyes glued on Gene who looked a little melancholy, tapping his pointed finger against the sheet music, obviously lost in his thoughts. It made her feel a little uneasy, and sad, so she purposely started playing the beginning to ‘For Me and My Gal’. Gene instantly smiled before looking over at her. She smiled back.

“Ding, Dong, Ding, Dong...” she sang the opening verse.

“Do you hear the bells go ding dong,” he chimed while singing with her.

They both chuckled and she stopped playing as she sat on the bench next to her.

“How are you, darling,” she asked.

“Oh, just swell. You?”

“Oh, life’s just a bowl of cherries.”

She sounded cheery, but he knew her comment was more sarcastic. He had read about her separation from her husband and that she had just recently moved into a house up in Bel Air. He also heard about her short-lived affair with Joe Mackiewicz out in Palm Springs where she had filmed the rest of her Mickey picture. Rumor was that married Mackiewicz just wanted fun but Judy wanted more. Gene didn’t usually pay much attention to gossip, but this time he had a feeling it was true. It could almost be the same thing that happened to them, though Gene didn’t just see her as a piece of ass, like he was sure a man like Joe did, Gene had fallen for her; mind, body and soul.

“What are you doing up here all alone, toots?”

“I have a radio show tomorrow night to promote ‘Girl, Crazy’. I was just going over a few songs. What about you? You’re never at the studio this late.”

“I was doing some post-ADR for my picture. Then got caught up in a choreography session for a film I might do for Columbia in a few months.”

“Columbia,” Judy said shocked, “I’m surprised Mr. Mayer is letting them borrow you.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because studios usually don’t like to hand out their big stars.”

“I’m no Gable, sweetheart.”

“Yet,” she emphasized confidently, with her finger up, “Each film you’ve done so far has been big box office draws and you’ve gotten raves in the papers.”

“Yeah, all three of them,” he rolled his eyes, “Our film was a hit because of you, baby, and ��Pilot #5’ egh, first dramatic role, wasn’t too great in it. And you know ‘DuBarry’ was all Red and Lucy Ball.”

“That isn’t true.”

“It is. When ‘Thousands Cheer’ comes out I’m sure it will be a hit because, as you know, it’s a star-studded film. I’m sure this war film I just finished will be better than the first dramatic film I did, we’ll see.”

Judy stared at him not believing her ears and he sat there so casually.

“Gene,” she said quite sternly.

“Huh?”

“You know, you’re making me a little angry,” she giggled but was serious.

“Why,” he chuckled back.

“You really need to give yourself more credit.”

“I don’t care about any of that stuff, Judy. I just want to choreograph and dance and work with other great actors. Reviews and box office draws don’t mean a thing to me.”

“Let me ask you something. If our film sank, after how hard we worked on it, wouldn’t you have been disappointed?”

“No, because it brought me to you,” he said smiling cheekily.

She laughed, “I’m serious. Put me out of the equation.”

“Impossible,” he interrupted.

“Really, though. Darling, when you’re passionate about a film, when you really believe in it, and you worked your butt off, and you want it to be something great, and then it tanks, it can be really disheartening.”

“You sound like you’ve been through this before.”

She nodded, “‘Wizard of Oz’. You don’t know how long I worked on that film. It was fun but really hard. By the end, I just knew we had something great. Then when I went to see it, and it didn’t have the reaction we all hoped, it kinda broke my heart. I always thought that it was me, that it would have done better if they had stuck with Shirley.”

“Shirley who?”

“Temple.”

“Get out of here.”

“Mm hm. They were juggling us back and forth but Fox wouldn’t let Shirley go back then.”

“She’s a sweetie pie, but she’s a baby actor and dancer, not a singer. ‘Over the Rainbow’,” he gave her a silly look showing her that it was destined to be a Judy Garland song only, “Please.”

Judy giggled, “See. And that’s what always wins...music. Even if a film doesn’t do well, or the story is not that great, a good musical number or song will always be remembered. Rainbow is mine. What will be yours?”

Gene looked at her taken back a bit, though he wasn’t all surprised. She always came off beyond wise for her years.

“I will always take pride in my dancing. I did the same on Broadway.”

“Ok. And hold onto that, because your dancing, or a particular musical number of yours, will be the heart of even the worst of films,” she teased. “It only takes 2 minutes of you tap dancing like you did in ‘DuBarry’ that will be remembered out of a 90 minute film. Be proud of it and don’t hold yourself short. And if you find yourself disappointed, that means you’re passionate about it, and that’s ok, too.”

Gene looked at her slyly and pressed a few keys on the piano, his ego shooting through the roof.

“My biggest fan.”

Judy wrapped her arms around his bicep and leaned her cheek against his shoulder, “Are you mine?”

Gene stiffened a bit. Her question was bouncing from his statement, but her voice suggested something entirely different.

“You know I’ll always be your biggest fan, Judy. Always gonna stand by and root for ya, honey.”

“I’ve missed you,” she said sweetly, raising her head to rest her chin on his shoulder now, staring at the side of him as he looked away from her angelic face.

“I know. I’ve been busy with work. I’ve been out promoting the last film and then I was across the pond filming ‘Cross of Lorraine’. I just got back last week. I haven’t even been out to any clubs. I know you were filming out on location, too.”

Judy’s face dropped a bit, “That’s not what I meant.”

He sighed, “No, I didn’t think so.”

“Haven’t you missed me?”

“I’ve missed my best friend.”

“That’s all?”

“Yes. I can’t cross that line.”

“What line,” she asked annoyed.

“The line you’re on, baby,” he said looking back at her trying to make his point clear without hurting her feelings. But, it was already too late.

Judy slid her arms from his and sat up straight. She tried to distract herself as she played some keys, pretending to get back to rehearsing. Gene also read her point cloud and clear.

“I’m glad I got to see you again. I’ll tell ya one thing,” he said reaching under her chin to have her look up at him, “I’ve missed that face.”

Judy just blinked, no expression present, but he could read her eyes, she was upset. But she had to get over it, over him.

“Go home and get some rest.”

“It’s lonely there, you know.”

“Then distract yourself. Go out with some friends, go to Ciro’s. You love that and you don’t have to be here tomorrow.”

Judy brushed his hand off of her and went back to playing.

Gene was silent a moment before he leaned down and kissed her cheek, “Good night.

When the door shut behind him, Judy pound her hands on the keys and stood up, “Fine. I will go out. I’m going to go out and find a man who will actually want me,” she said to herself as she collected her purse.

Gene pulled up at a red light on Venice Boulevard, his head and his heart in an emotional battle, when he heard a honk. Looking over, his buddy Van Johnson was smiling, motioning for him to roll his window down. Gene smiled back, and leaned far over to roll the passenger side down.

"Hey buddy," Van said cheerfully.

"What are you doing out in this part of town this late? You're usually out hob-knobbing on Friday nights."

"Had a late dinner with Evie and a couple of her girlfriends. She wanted to stay, so I high-tailed it out of there."

Gene looked ahead making sure the light was still red, "Too much cock in the hen house?"

"Exactly. What are you doing out this way?"

"Just left the studio," Gene motioned behind him, where the studio stood a few minutes back.

"This late?" Gene nodded and Van continued, "Damn. Well, you got any plans?”

"Nope."

"You wanna go out and have a few?"

"Yeah, that sounds good. But let's do one of the joints on Melrose. I don't feel like swinging with Hollywood tonight."

The light turned green so they quickly ended their conversation.

"How about Blue Martini, Melrose and La Cienega?"

"I gotta go home and change first. I'll meet you there," Gene shouted as they started rolling as cars honked behind both of them.

He chuckled when he saw Van, in his rearview mirror, throw his hand out the window at the car behind him.

When Gene arrived home, the house was dark and quiet. Upstairs, Betsy was curled in bed with a book and the radio going next to her.

"Hi."

"Hi. You're home late."

"I know. I stayed and worked on some ideas for that 'Cover Girl' picture coming up. And I ran into Judy when I was leaving," he said casually as he started to unbutton his shirt.

"Oh yeah? How's she doing," Betsy asked a bit uninterested as she continued to read her suspense book.

"Fine. Didn't talk too long. She just got back from filming on location, too."

"I'm surprised you didn't catch up with her. You haven't seen her for a while, right," Betsy said now placing the book in her lap, "You two became good friends back on your picture. Maybe we can arrange to all have dinner sometime."

Gene froze for a moment before walking into the walk-in closet. He had mentioned Judy casually, to keep it unsuspecting, but now the conversation was going further than he meant.

Speaking up from the closet he changed the subject real fast, "Van pulled up next to me at a red light. Invited me out for a few drinks right now," he poked his head out, "I know you're all comfy, but do you want to come with me?"

"No, thanks," she said smiling sheepishly as she snuggled further into bed to hint to him that she was very comfy, "But you go ahead."

Gene leaned back and raised his eyebrows to himself as he picked out a fresh dress shirt. He wasn't surprised at her response. She rarely liked to go out lately, not since they moved to Los Angeles. He understood at first. Perhaps she was shy. He was always able to persuade her then though. Then pregnancy happened, then the baby was born. He understood that as well. But Kerry was nine months old now. His wife could at least try but she got way too comfortable being a homebody while Gene enjoyed the nightlife.

June Allyson held hands with Judy as she led her through the crowded nightclub called the Blue Martini on Melrose not too far from Paramount Studios. Judy knew most of her pals were at The Player’s Club or Ciro’s or another joint on the Sunset Strip. She wanted to go out and have a night of flirtatious fun with someone she didn’t know. Judy knew if she were to go to Ciro’s, as Gene suggested, which was one of her favorite places, then word would get back to Mr. Mayer of her indiscretions and she didn’t feel like spending Monday morning in his office getting another talking to.

Judy didn’t want to show up somewhere alone, and she didn’t know many other bars, so she didn’t want to end up in some dive. She had to think of someone whom she trusted that would know where to go. That brought her to her new friend, June. She was new to Metro and had a small part in ‘Girl, Crazy’. They had hit it off right away. June had the same sense of humor as Judy. And even though on the outside she was the ‘girl next door’, June had street smarts from working on Broadway and living alone in New York. Judy, of course, didn’t know June well enough to tell her of her goal for the night; to have a one-night stand, or at least a good time with a handsome stranger. But, June knew exactly where to go. She described the club as a little jazz gem away from the high-ballers. That’s exactly what Judy wanted.

The club was much smaller than the other places she was used to, but it was still charming, and sexy. The smoke-filled nightclub had an ambience of blue lighting and there was a gorgeous, lit up fountain in the middle of the club.

Judy looked around as June led her swiftly towards a free table over by the bar. She passed many people, ones she didn’t recognize, but they still had an elegant look to them which relaxed her a bit. She definitely was not in some drunkard’s dive.

As they passed a booth of men in suites talking over Brandy, Judy caught a man’s eye. He smiled and looked her up and down as she was rushed by. Judy had just enough time to glance back at him over her shoulder smiling back. She wasn’t sure if he recognized her or not, but she didn’t care at that point. She was already ahead of her goal and he was very handsome.

“Thank goodness we got a table, it’s almost standing room only,” June said sitting down.

“This is great. Where on earth did you find this place?”

“I came here with Lucy a few months ago when we were filming ‘Best Foot Forward’. Her husband was playing here with his band for a few weeks during ‘Rumba’ night. I thought it was a cute place.”

“It’s just what I needed. And look, no cameras going off in your face.”

“That must be hard, to try to have a good time and then you have cameramen running up to you.”

“I really don’t mind it all that much. I guess I’ve gotten used to it, but tonight I wanted to be away from all that. You, darling, will soon find out what it feels like.”

“I’ll be on my way up, that’s what they tell me. I don’t mind though, you know? I’m just happy to be here at the studio working. And,” June said, reaching over to grab Judy’s hand warmly, “To have made friends with you.”

“Me, too. You’re a doll.”

“Cocktails, ladies,” a waitress in a sleek, black uniform asked.

“A glass of red Cabernet for me, please.”

“Top shelf whiskey sour.”

“You got it.”

Chatter filled the nightclub as the band went on break. Judy looked back over her shoulder at the table. She saw the man look at her but he was immersed in his conversation in the booth. She decided to let some cocktails sink in, and music come back, before she got more courage to continue her quest.

“I heard from Arthur that he wants L.B. to put you on contract, that’s a sure thing of being on your way up.”

“He’s talking about having me star in some film with Van Johnson. Until then, I'm still doing my side parts, but I've met so many greats. I really don’t care if I climb up or not. I do hope maybe one day we can work together.”

“I would love that. I would love to sing with you. You sound like a bell.”

“Me,” June sarcastically said, pointing to herself reminding them of who just made that compliment. Both ladies giggled.

“I swear, between you and Gene, it’s like you have no confidence in your talent.”

“Gene?”

“Kelly. Have you met him yet?”

“Not yet. I’ve seen your picture though. It was swell and looked like fun.”

“It was a lot of fun. That was his first picture, you know.”

“I know. I heard that you helped him get it.”

“I wanted him for it and I’m glad the studio listened. His talent is beyond amazing, June, it really is. And we became very good friends.”

“Oh, I could tell that. I would see you two hanging out together outside your sound stages in between takes. I think you were both doing separate films. Ya, he was doing a film with Lucy.”

“Yah. You should have come hung out with us.”

“I didn’t want to intrude. Besides, I was still so new and shy. I’d see you and duck into a stairwell.”

“Oh, stop,” Judy laughed. “You know, Gene was just talking to me earlier about not caring if he gets ahead, all he wants to do is dance and work.”

“I suppose that’s what being green in this industry is all about.”

“Here you are, ladies.”

“Thank you.”

June held up her glass, “To being green.”

“But having confidence in your talent,” Judy said back and the girls clinked glasses before sipping.

June made a noise as she sipped and quickly took her glass away from her lips, “Speak of the devil.”

“What?”

“Gene Kelly just walked in.”

Judy giggled, wiping her pink-polished fingers on her cocktail napkin to rid the wetness of her glass’s condensation. Clearly, June was teasing.

“Van Johnson is with him, too.”

Judy’s eyes widened as she looked up at June, who stared over her shoulder with curious eyes taking another sip of her wine.

“No, they aren’t,” Judy mumbled to herself and turned to look herself.

Yes, they were.

Judy watched as the men figured out where to go in the crowded room. She turned back around and closed her eyes. After Gene’s rejection, he was the last person she wanted to see right now.

“Want to go say hi?”

“You know, I- I’m sure they came here for the same reason we did...to not be bothered. Let’s just leave them alone.”

“Too late, honey, Van’s pointed at us,” she lowered her voice in a deep undertone to be playful, “You’ve been spotted.”

Gene was steps behind Van as he bee lined for the small table for two where Judy sat with a woman that he kind of recognized. He was a bit shell-shocked to see Judy at this joint and it showed plain as day on his face.

“Hiya sweet cheeks,” Van said as he made no hesitation in cuddling Judy hard from the side, to where her chair even scooted with the force of the embrace, and he planted a big kiss on her cheek.

She giggled, and glanced up at Gene, a smile on her face, but she didn’t look too thrilled. Gene could see that.

“You know my buddy here,” Van said sarcastically introducing Gene to Judy.

“Clark Gable,” Gene replied, “I think we’ve met once or twice before,” he replied just as sarcastically.

“I don’t recall,” she said a bit cattily, smiling and batting her lashes.

Gene’s smile dropped but June spoke up, “And I do recall that I haven't met you yet, Mr. Kelly.”

Gene turned his attention to June, “And who might you be, my dear?”

“June Allyson,” Van replied, “Up and rising star at our alma mater. And hopefully my next leading lady.”

“Hopefully.”

“Yes, I’ve seen you around the lot. How do you do, Miss Allyson?”

“June.”

“Then it’s Gene to you.”

“I was just telling Judy how wonderful I thought your film was.”

“Which film is that?”

He shot Judy a look at his intentional remark and it was Judy’s turn to look at Gene sans smile.

Judy perched her lips irritated before nearly speaking through her teeth, a forced smile plastered, “The one we did together, darling.”

“Oh, yes. I’m glad you enjoyed it. Van, buddy, how about we head to the bar? There’s two seats at the end.”

“Ladies, would you like some company? Two women alone in the bar calls for two gentleman callers.”

“Unfortunately, this is a table for two, sweetie,” Judy replied sweetly.

“There’s always our laps,” Van winked.

Judy nervously scratched her neck and chuckled, turning red. She knew which lap she’d end up on and was afraid Gene would push her off.

“And where is Evie,” June asked, mischievously bringing up his girlfriend’s name.

“Hey, I can look but not touch right?”

“Down boy,” Gene said, grabbing Van’s bicep, “I think we might’ve intruded on girl’s night.”

“Then I shall bow out gracefully.”

“Thank you,” Judy said, smiling genuinely and accepted a peck on the lips from her friend.

After Van kissed Judy goodbye, he gave June’s hand a kiss and followed Gene to the bar.

As time went by, even though Judy could feel Gene’s eyes on her, she refused to turn to look at him. Luckily, a few of Van’s friends showed up and the five of the men got lost in conversation, taking Gene’s attention away from her. At one point, Judy could even hear Gene’s laughter from across the way as the men got rowdy.

June and Judy got lost in gossip and anecdotes and enjoyed each other's company along with the live music.

After the waitress put down another fresh drink for Judy, June smiled sheepishly as she just took the last sip of her 2nd glass of wine.

“How are you feeling?”

“Mm, good. How about you?”

“Fine, but I’m not the one drinking my cocktails like water.”

Judy blushed, “They’re good.”

June giggled. She knew well enough that Judy Garland wasn’t an alcoholic. She just needed a well-deserved night off, but June decided that they’d probably be best taking a cab home instead of Judy’s personal chauffeur who had dropped them off. June was still new to this side of business, and didn’t know if she could trust him. Last thing Judy needed was word to get out from her driver that MGM’s ‘it’ girl got inebriated.

Judy looked over at the booth, where the man she first made eyes with was, but he was no longer there. She didn’t notice Gene looking at her as she leaned far back in her chair to look past his group. Curious, he looked behind him to see what or who she was looking at.

Seeing that booth now vacant, Judy decided she’d have to find someone else to flirt with, but first was going to freshen up.

“I’m going to use the washroom,” she said standing up, “I’ll be right back.”

Before June could even respond, Judy lost her balance a bit and June quickly grabbed Judy’s arm and the table that wobbled. Judy found it hilarious as she steadied herself, her infectious laugh louder than anyone else’s in the room.

Her laugh even got Gene’s attention as he watched her walk away from the table. Catching eyes with June, she made a funny drinking motion to tell him Judy was ok but drank too much. He sighed heavily through his nose giving her a nod in acknowledgement.

Judy returned a few minutes later and tried to sit down elegantly, but ended up wobbling the table again.

“Oops.”

“Have you eaten anything?”

“No.”

“I’ll order an appetizer. You gotta eat when you drink.”

“Yes, mother,” she giggled, “I didn’t realize how fast it hit me until I went to the bathroom.”

“That’s usually how it happens.”

“See any cute men walk by while I was gone?”

“I haven’t really paid attention. Why? Are you looking?”

“Maybe,” Judy said back innocently.

Just then they heard a male’s voice next to them, “Sorry to intrude…”

Judy and June both looked up to find the same man that had made eyes at Judy earlier. Judy was pleasantly surprised. He looked to be in his 30's, was tall, great posture, with dark blonde hair and a pearly white smile.

“I don’t normally do this, but Miss Garland, would you mind terribly if I asked for an autograph?”

That answered Judy’s question whether he had recognized her or not.

“I’d love to.”

He handed her a pen and grabbed a clean cocktail napkin on their table sliding it in front of her.

She smiled amused, “Is it for anyone in particular?”

“Myself. Just your name is fine.”

After signing, Judy handed it back to him.

“Lovely,” he said looking at her beautiful signature and folded it up putting it in his pocket, “My name is Tom, but I just used this as an excuse to come over and talk to you especially since we noticed one another when you walked in.”

Judy smiled flirtatiously, very amused now at his frankness. June saw the look on Judy’s face, she tried to suppress her giggle.

“I don’t mind. But I am curious as to why it took you so long to come over.”

The man’s smile widened, his eyes sparkling back, and June cleared her throat.

“I’m going to see what the boys are up to,” she said, grabbing her wine glass.

“Miss,” he said as June smiled at Judy and slipped on by them.

Tom immediately sat down in her seat without asking, “I, ah, I hope your friend doesn’t mind.”

“She doesn’t,” Judy said leaning her chin on her hands, “She can tell I’m interested.”

Judy was never this brave off the bat but the alcohol was helping tremendously and she wanted to have fun. Not only that, she was more confident knowing the man was interested back and her body craved attention.

“Are you now,” he said, his ego boosted.

“Mm hm. You’re very handsome, you know.”

“Well, I always thought you were cute on screen, but you’re even more beautiful in person.”

“Thank you.”

“I mean it. You’re a dish,” his eyes seductively eyed her up and down, “How about another drink?”

“I really shouldn’t,” she said in her most adorable voice. It was definitely an act, but it never failed to get her what she wanted, “I’m already quite tipsy.”

“I see no problem with that, honey,” he said back suggestively. To others, the comment would be seen as a red flag, but it flew right over Judy’s intoxicated head.

“I’ll finish this drink and start drinking water. So, Tom, what do you do?”

“I’m a lawyer downtown. But work-talk is boring.”

“Oh, good. I despise small talk.”

“Then ask me something interesting.”

“Mm, are you single?”

He leaned forward on his elbows like she was, “I am...currently. You?”

“Uh...currently.”

“Maybe we can change that.”

“Yeah,” she asked intrigued, thinking they could possibly go to another nightclub alone, “Well, what are you doing after this?”

“Hopefully I’m looking at it.”

Judy looked at him a little taken back but she was definitely not displeased nor insulted.

“How about a dance, sugar?”

“I’d love it,” she replied and took his hand.

She was lightheaded but feeling very good and let him guide her to the dance floor where other couples were currently slow dancing.

Gene’s eyes stayed glued on Judy and the man as they embraced closely on the dancefloor as everyone around him were rowdy and took no notice. They were too close for Gene’s comfort, especially since he didn't recognize the man. By now, he had become accustomed to all her mutual friends.

“June,” Gene asked as her back was turned to him while she spoke with Van.

“Hm?”

“Who is that dancing with Judy?”

“I don’t know. He came up asking for an autograph just so he could talk to her. That’s why I came over here. They were pretty flirty.”

Gene watched them intently. He could definitely see Judy was not uncomfortable in his arms, but she was drunk. The man knew that, too, and he was sure that he was using it to his advantage.

When the third dance started, their faces were inches apart as they spoke. Gene was becoming more alert and more worked up. He didn’t care if Judy was coming onto the man, it wasn’t right. She was under the influence, feeling vulnerable, not to mention she was a famous celebrity. She couldn’t just go around with random men. It would get her into trouble, in more ways than one. He wasn’t thinking as a jealous ex-lover, he was thinking as her best friend.

When Judy slipped her arms around the guy's neck suggestively as their hips slowly swayed, his hand slid down her ass, cupping the bottom of it. When she didn’t move his hand away, Gene placed his glass on the bar with a loud thump. It was so loud that it got June’s attention. She looked to where Gene was staring.

Gene didn’t even notice June until he saw her walk up to Judy.

“Judy,” June asked, tapping Judy’s back.

The couple turned to her but remained in their stance.

“Hm?”

“Can I talk to you for a moment,” June politely looked at the man, “Sorry.”

Tom didn’t falter and looked down at Judy completely turned on.

“Is it an emergency,” Judy asked concerned.

“No.”

“Well, then, as you can see I’m a little busy right now, darling,” she said, placing her hand on the man’s chest as they started twirling again, “I’ll talk to you later…” she then gave a slurred giggle, “...or more like tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” the man agreed.

As an irritated June walked back towards the bar she mumbled, “Should’ve lied and said it was an emergency.”

Gene was paying his bill when June came back up to him.

“Gene, uh, I know we don’t know each other, but we’re both Judy’s friends, and I have to tell you, I don’t like what’s going on over there.”

“No,” he simply said, agreeing, as he threw down a hefty tip on the edge of the bar for the bartender.

“I realize she’s a grown woman, and separated from her husband, but she’s had too much to drink, you know? She’s not thinking straight.”

“Yep,” he said, as it was nothing new to what had already gone through his mind, “What did she say when you went over?”

“Didn’t want to talk to me. They seem pretty intent on leaving together and I don’t think it’s a good idea especially in her state. What if she regrets it or something bad happens?”

“Nothing’s going to happen.”

“It won’t?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not going to let it. She’s too good a friend of mine for me to let her leave with some guy she doesn’t know. Plus,” he emphasized, “she’s Judy Garland.”

“That was my thought, too,” June looked over to the dance floor and didn’t see them. She looked at their table which was still empty, “Gene, where did they go?”

Gene quickly looked around and didn’t see them either. When he whipped his body towards the door, it was just enough time for him to see them exit holding hands.

“Oh, nope,” he said sternly as he grabbed his fedora, “Nope.”

June watched as she saw Gene swiftly head towards the door.

Gene didn’t see them when he first walked out the doors but he heard her loud laugh echo from around the corner and his steps became longer and faster. When he turned the corner, he saw Judy wobble on her heels but the man laughed with her and secured an arm around her waist. Tom reached down, giving her a kiss on the cheek as they headed towards a black Cadillac.

That son-of-a-bitch, Gene thought as his steps became angry the closer he got to them. Before he knew it, he grabbed Judy's free hand.

“Thanks,” he said to the other man as he started pulling her away, but Judy quickly resisted.

“Gene, what are you doing?”

Her horrified voice made Tom quickly grab her again around the waist to hold her back to him and she didn’t resist him.

“You’re coming with me,” Gene stated calmly.

“I am what,” she laughed ridiculously.

“Who is this joker,” Tom asked her, not recognizing him.

“It’s alright, Tom. He’s a friend of mine,” Judy looked at Gene angrily, “And if he doesn’t back off, he won’t be any longer.”

Gene didn’t falter, “Judy, let’s go.”

“I am going. I’m going with my new friend here.”

“Going to do what?”

“I don’t think that is any of your business.”

“It’s definitely not his business,” Tom added.

“Would you really like to know, Gene,” she said with that intentional voice of hers, egging him on.

“Oh, yeah?” Gene asked and took a step towards her, challenging her and his voice came out disgusted, “I bet you don’t even know his last name.”

Even through glassy eyes, she suddenly showed guilt, and was quiet.

“Look, back off, Bud. She’s a big girl.”

Gene’s eyes didn’t leave Judy’s but she looked down almost ashamed and he spoke sternly but calmly, “Judy.”

“Don’t worry, Daddy, I’ll make sure she gets home safely,” Tom chuckled.

Judy had looked up at Gene with that last comment, and her expression showed horror. Even with the extremely fuzzy effects of the alcohol, she knew that to Gene those were fighting words.

Gene chuckled back, but then he took a step aside ready to fight, but Judy quickly placed her hands on his chest.

“Gene,” she pleaded.

“Come on, babe, let's go,” Tom said and turned to walk to his car.

“She’s not a *babe*, asshole, she’s a lady. Let’s go,” Gene suddenly bent down and swooped Judy over his shoulder. She gasped and held onto his back as he started walking them the other direction.

“Gene! PUT ME DOWN! GENE!”

He ignored her yells and her fists on his back, but when she suddenly kicked, her stiletto got a little too close.

“Judy, for Christ sakes, you almost kicked me in the head.”

He turned the corner back in front of the club where his car was parking in front and immediately saw June and Van run out.

“I should kick you in the balls for ruining my night,” Judy spat back.

“Van, open the back door of my car, will ya.”

Van seemed amused as he did what he was told. Gene set Judy down and tried to put her in the back seat but she again resisted.

“Get in there.”

“I’m not going in there. I came with June.”

“Judy, dammit, you’re testing my patience. Now, get in the goddamn back seat before I throw you in.”

Judy knew he was serious, but she still protested, “I swear, if you do this Gene, never come crawling back to me again. I mean it, we’re over for good. And we’re no longer friends either!”

“Crawling back to her,” Van asked, confused as hell.

Gene’s eyes widened at her before he turned around to face the confused pair, “I have no idea what gibberish she’s talking about. The booze has obviously made her mentally and verbally unstable.”

Judy shrieked insulted.

“Now GET IN THERE!”

“ALRIGHT,” she screeched back shocked from his angry yell at her and she went into the backseat.

Gene slammed the door before turning back to his friends exhausted.

“I’ll give Junie a ride home. Don’t worry about it,” Van said.

“Here. This is hers,” June smiled and handed him Judy’s small purse.

Gene looked at it and nodded before walking around to the drivers side. He tossed the purse in the backseat carelessly, almost hitting her, as he got in.

“Hey!”

Van and June both smiled as they heard Judy yell through the closed windows and then they watched them drive off.

The car was silent, not even the radio was on, as Gene’s eyes met hers though the rearview mirror as he rolled up to the first red light.

“You realize you almost ratted us out back there?”

Judy whimpered as she readjusted herself in the backseat, leaning her head back, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Van and June. You nearly told them about us.”

“We’re not together anymore. Who cares,” she said in a slurred speech.

“I care. You may not be with your husband anymore, but my wife would also care. Oh, she’d care a lot.”

“THEN GO HOME TO HER,” Judy suddenly yelled as she sat up with determination. It was obviously a sore spot.

“Would you lower your voice? Geez,” he said, wiggling his finger in his ear.

“Slow down,” she said leaning her head back again, “I’m dizzy. Better yet, just drop me off here. Then you can go back to your marriage.”

“Drop you off,” he chuckled, “on the corner of Melrose. I’m sorry, honey, but you don’t fit in with the prostitutes. And I’m not going back to my ‘marriage’ as you call it, until I know you’re ok.”

“You might want to rephrase that, Gene,” she said sadly.

He realized what he said and sighed, “What I meant to say was…”

“I know what you meant,” she replied, knowing he wouldn’t go back home until she was home herself.

When they arrived at her home in Bel Air, Judy was fast asleep. After he opened the passenger door, he stared at her angelic face for a moment. She sure was a spit fire, but right now she looked like such an innocent child. It was the same when he had stared at her asleep in his arms after they had just had a naughty and solicitous encounter or had one of their amusing arguments. So many emotions were running through him.

He got her keys out of her purse before lifting her in his arms. With a bit of a struggle, he did manage to get them both inside, but it wasn’t easy with her near flaccid body hanging off of him. Gene stood there a moment. He knew where she lived but he had never been inside before. It was charming.

Once he got up the stairs, he headed straight into the first bedroom he came upon but stopped short. That wasn’t her room, he thought. It was fully furnished, but it didn’t seem like her. Figuring it was a guest room, he kept going down the hall. He walked past a bathroom and an office before heading straight for the open double doors at the end of the hall.

Oh, yes, this definitely was her room. The bed was large and opulent, with one of her slips laying in the middle of the floor and a chiffon scarf over her vanity’s mirror. It even smelled like her perfume.

After laying Judy on her bed, he carefully slipped off her slip on stilettos.

“Where am I,” she mumbled very sleepily.

“You’re home, in your bed,” he said as he walked over to set her Chanel shoes on the dresser. One, he knew how much she took care of her designer pieces, and two he didn’t want her to trip over them if she were to drunkenly wander out of bed. Last thing he needed was her to fall and hit her head on the dresser.

When he turned back around he saw her half sitting up trying to reach for the back of her zipper, but her movements were lazy and she couldn’t reach. He walked on over and unzipped the dress for her and helped her out of it. After it was off, wearing a two-piece white silk camisole and nude thigh high stockings, she fell back on the bed happy to go back to sleep.

Gene proceeded to cover her with a throw that was on the end of her bed, but she kicked it off.

“You need to lay on your side, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?”

Judy moaned, the skin between her eyes wrinkling in dissatisfaction, as he pulled her shoulder so she was on her side.

“Why?”

“Because if you get sick, you can choke.”

“Mmm, that’s all anyone needs to see...” she mumbled, arranging herself on her side, “...Louis B. Mayer’s ‘Darling Judy’ puking her brains out.”

Gene chuckled as he went into the master bedroom to get a glass of water for her, and a few aspirin. Setting it next to her, he looked around making sure everything was in order before he left.

“There’s water right here, Judy, if you need it, and aspirin. Do you need anything else before I go?”

“Don’t go, please.”

“You’re safe and sound in your bed now. Just get some sleep.”

“Please,” she said with her eyes closed and reached her hand up in the air for him. He took it in both his hands.

It was a moment before she spoke half-asleep, “My husband stopped wanting me, I was just a summer fling to Joe and Gene doesn't want me anymore. I miss him, doesn't he realize that?”

"Honey, I'm right here. I'm Gene."

"Why doesn't he want me anymore," she whimpered sadly.

Gene’s face fell as well. When her hand went limp and she didn’t continue, he knew she passed out. He sat down on the edge of her bed in a bit of sorrow. She really was more hurt than he thought. He couldn’t leave her.

Gene turned off the light and left the door open as he walked to the guest room he had come across earlier. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he picked up the phone and dialed. As he waited, and hoped for the phone to be answered, he started untying his shoes.

“Hello?”

“Oh, Van, thank God you’re home already, man.”

“I just ran in to answer. Everything alright?”

“I’m at Judy’s. She’s pretty bad. I can’t leave her alone tonight in case something happens. Can you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Can you call Betsy and tell her that I got drunk and passed out at your place so she doesn’t worry?”

“Uh...sure. But, why don’t you just tell her the truth?”

“Oh, you definitely ain’t a married man,” Gene laughed, “It doesn’t matter what the truth is, buddy, they’ll always jump to the conclusion that you’re fucking someone else.”

Gene bit his cheek and made a face at his own comment, as he did have an affair with Judy, but tonight wasn’t the case.

“Yeah, that does make sense,” Van chuckled, “No problem, buddy.”

“Thanks.”

When they hung up, Gene sighed and fell on his back. Running a hand over his face, he snickered.

What a night.

Rain hitting the window stirred Judy out of her sleep. She was laying face down on top of her bed, her neck length curls in disarray and her mascara smeared under her eyes. She looked up at the clock on her nightstand and moaned. It was nine-thirty. The skies were grey, making her room still cozy and dark, and all she wanted to do was go back to sleep but her body thought otherwise. Not to mention she was terribly hungry.

After ten minutes, Judy finally mustered the strength to pull herself out of bed. As she passed the window, she did a double take seeing a car that wasn’t hers in her driveway. Walking to the window to get a better view, she immediately recognized whose car that was.

Gene’s.

Why was he there? Judy thought back, remembering he was at the club and then...suddenly the night came back to her. She didn’t remember coming home, but she remembered him making her get into the back seat of his car. Quite embarrassed, she dropped her face into her hands.

“Oh, no,” she mumbled.

Wait, she thought, as her head popped up, did they sleep together? She couldn’t remember. Quickly looking down at her body, she saw that she was still dressed in her matching camisole set. Then she looked around her floor and there were no signs of any of Gene’s clothes scattered around.

She relaxed when she instinctively knew they hadn't had sex. Good gracious, she would be horrified if she had and couldn't remember. Gene would be more embarrassed than her in that regard.

Judy had just walked out of her bedroom when she heard Gene’s morning cough from down the hall. She followed the shuffling sound until she saw him in the guest room.

Securing his pants, he didn’t notice Judy as she leaned against the door crossing her arms. When he finished and looked up to grab his shirt, he did a double take on Judy. One of the straps on her camisole tank was off her shoulder, one of her thigh high stockings now lay in a pool around her ankle, her hair looked like a bird's nest and the makeup under her eyes made her look like 20’s Gothic actress Theda Bara.

"Gosh, you look so sexy in the morning," he joked. She didn’t look amused and he spoke in an army voice, “Wipe that smile off your face, soldier.”

Judy watched as he continued dressing, working his button up dress shirt.

“Why did you stay here?”

“You asked me to.”

“I did?"

He realized then that she probably didn’t remember much and decided to skip that conversation for now.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Really? You sure look hungover.”

“Well, I don’t feel it. I woke up around 4 and got sick but I took aspirin. I’m just tired, and very hungry.”

“Why don’t you take a shower and I’ll make us breakfast.”

Judy looked at him skeptically, “Why are you doing this?”

“Judy, just because we’re not together anymore, doesn’t mean I stopped caring,” he said coldly as he did up the last button.

It stunned her.

All she could do was muster up a soft, “Ok” before walking out to take her shower.

A little later, Gene was nearly finished setting the breakfast nook when Judy came in. Her voluminous curls were damp but she managed to put on a fresh, natural look to her makeup, and threw on a casual baby-blue romper dress. It was quite short, something she would most-likely play tennis in, and her feet were bare.

The two didn’t say a word as she sat at the table and he set their pancakes and bacon on it along with his coffee and her tea and of course some OJ. Judy felt a bit awkward at the silence, but Gene seemed just fine as he sat opposite her and read the Saturday morning paper. She distracted herself by listening to a Bing Crosby rerun playing on the portable speaker throughout breakfast. Gene did notice that her usual giggles and laughter during her favorite radio show was absent during it, which was highly unusual.

After her shower, and eating, Judy felt back to normal and more energetic, not just physically but mentally as well. It gave her the courage to break their silence.

“Thank you for breakfast.”

“Welcome,” she heard him mumble behind the paper.

Judy bit her lower lip a moment before continuing, “What a sad-looking day, huh?”

“I kinda like it. Reminds me of New York. It doesn’t rain here often,” Gene said back, his tone a little more engaged than before.

“Yah,” she agreed, “But it doesn’t make for a good Saturday, does it? Not much to do in the rain.”

“No, but maybe a day inside relaxing is just what you need... especially after last night.”

Judy heard the tone in his voice change to more sly and she cocked her head and spoke confidently, “I had a great time last night.”

Gene peeked at her from the newspaper before he folded it back up, “What do you remember from last night?”

“I remember that you ruined my good time.”

Gene stared at her before speaking matter-of-factly, “I corrected your mistake before it was made.”

“Oh,” she giggled, “Is that what you call it?”

“So,” he said, placing his coffee back on its saucer with a bit of a noise, “You remember all of it.”

“I don’t recall actually coming home, but I remember the club just fine."

"And you had a great time?"

Judy knew what he was getting at, "Yes. I know what you want me to say, darling, but I don’t regret any of it. Not. One. Bit.”

“You’re joking,” he said, astonished.

“No.”

Gene looked at her as if he didn’t hear right, “You...don’t regret anything from last night?”

“Mm, well, I should've probably ate while drinking, but,” she leaned her jaw on her open hand challenging him with a sarcastic voice, “what exactly are you referring to, Gene?”

“Oh, God,” he said leaning back in his chair, “Do I really have to say it?”

“Why would I regret that? It’s what I came to the club for.”

The tone in her voice alerted Gene that she was serious about that quest.

“Why,” he asked, shocked.

“Do *I* really have to say it,” she asked amused now.

Gene crossed his arms and just stared at her as if he was trying to read her. When she giggled, he shook his head.

“You were doing that to get me jealous, weren’t you?”

“What?”

“Admit it.”

“Gene, give me a break. I didn’t even know you were going to be at that joint. I went there with my girlfriend so I could get away from the people I knew so they wouldn’t stop me from having fun. You admit it. You were jealous and that’s why you stopped me.”

"Hey, Sweetheart, I have no problem admitting when I’m jealous, it's perfectly natural, but that’s not why I stopped you. You were drunk and acting foolish.”

“I may have been drinking, but I was not foolish. I knew exactly what I was doing. The alcohol just made me more relaxed.”

“Oh, you were relaxed alright, about as relaxed as his hands were when they were all over your ass.”

Judy didn't hesitate, “Which I enjoyed.”

“Judy…”

“Did I once look like I was uncomfortable or push him away?" When Gene didn't answer she nodded 'yes' proving her point, "Ah huh. I was very much aware that I was leaving with him when you acted like a goddamn caveman.”

Though sloshed last night, Gene could see she was sober as a judge in her acclamation and it frightened him a bit, “Why would you do that? Why would you say yes to a stranger asking you to leave with him?”

“I didn’t. He said yes to me.”

Judy flinched just a tad when Gene suddenly screeched his chair back and grabbed his empty cup of coffee heading to the counter. He was obviously very uncomfortable. Judy didn’t enjoy the conversation either, but everything was the truth.

“Why are you getting so upset,” she asked, standing up and brought her empty plate over to the sink, “I am an adult, you know, I’m a single woman, not to mention a soon-to-be divorced woman. I think I can make my own decisions.”

“Make your own decisions, fine, just think about them beforehand.”

“I did.”

“No, you didn’t. You made a decision, but you didn’t think about the what if’s.”

“Oh, what are you going on about now,” she asked, almost uninterested as she head back to grab his empty plate.

“I get that you’re a single woman, Judy. Go out and have fun, you deserve it, but next time you feel the need to jump in the sac, do it with someone you know, or at least know of. I know plenty of guys in our arena that would be perfectly willing to have an encounter with you. And they would respect you afterwards and be discreet about it. They *know* the business.”

“I wanted to get away from that last night. Why do you think we came there in the first place? I wanted to have fun with someone I didn’t know, who didn’t know me, but wanted me anyways. I did think about it.”

Gene banged her utensil drawer closed so hard, it made her flinch.

“You don’t get it,” his voice raised frustrated, “This was a complete stranger. You didn’t know him. Something bad could have happened.”

“For instance,” she said, placing a hand on her hip in annoyance.

“Many reasons. For one, even though it was consensual, he could have ended up getting forceful or, God forbid, raping you. He could have been a woman beater or left you on the side of the road afterwards.”

Her look made him see that she didn’t believe anything he was saying, that nothing like that would have happened to her. She was gullible. He had to get back on her terms to make her understand.

“Alright. Say he was a decent enough man, what if you got pregnant? You were drunk, you could have gotten careless. Or what if he ended up bragging to everyone that Judy Garland was easy? News like that would spread around this town like wildfire and Louella would have a field day. Stuff like that has happened before. You’re not indestructible or invisible in that regard.”

Judy lowered her eyes as she fiddled with her nail, “I guess I didn’t think about it in that way.”

Gene’s temper simmered down as she got it now and he spoke caringly, “That’s why I stopped you, I was looking out for you.”

“Thank you,” was all that she could muster up as she turned the sink faucet on.

“If I did that because I was jealous, don’t you think I would have taken you to bed myself?”

Disappointment and anger flashed in her eyes, “No, I don’t.”

To hide her explanation of what she had replied back, Judy started working on the dishes, even though Rosie, her housekeeper, was due there in a few hours.

Gene stood there, hand on his hip, as he watched her in silence, “I’ll never stop wanting you, Judy.”

Her hands frozen in the soapy water, she looked at him over her shoulder, “What?”

“It’s true.”

Judy turned the water off and dried her hands on the dish towel before facing him, “Why did you just say that to me?”

“Because of what you said last night.”

She nervously cleared her throat, “What did I say?”

“Right before you fell asleep, I don’t think you knew who you were talking to, but you were wondering why I didn’t want you anymore. I do, I’m just trying to get back to some normalcy in my life. I have to give all my energy to my marriage right now, but that doesn’t mean my feelings for you have changed.”

“Haven’t they,” she insisted as if she didn’t believe him.

“For God's sake, falling out of feelings for someone like you doesn't just happen overnight."

“It doesn’t, huh,” she insisted again.

Gene didn’t like her tone of voice and wondered if she had even heard a word he had said. It saddened him that she wasn’t getting through to her. He turned to walk out of the kitchen, and made it to the door when she spoke up.

"Prove it,” her voice sounded persistent but nervous.

"What,” Gene asked, his back still to her as he froze.

"Prove it," Judy repeated. She knew he wouldn’t prove it, now that he had made up his mind on giving all his ‘energy’ to Betsy. Her voice became angry, “Prove it or get the hell out of my house.”

Gene’s exasperation for her, sexually, and in this conversation, was too much to bear. All he could do at that moment was hit his hand on the wall next to the door. Judy waited a long moment for him to either turn around, or walk out, but he didn’t either. He didn’t even speak. Emotionally exhausted, and disheartened, she shook her head and walked his way.

She brushed up against him as she squeezed by to walk out the kitchen door but before she could take even two steps further, Gene’s hand grabbed her wrist holding her back, her arm in a 90 degree angle. Turning her around to face him, he swiftly planted her body up against his and took the two steps himself until her back was to the wall. She gasped and looked up at him with wide eyes.

His lips remained dangerously close to hers as he huskily spoke, “I don’t have to prove anything to you. I want you to feel it instead.”

Gene refrained from kissing her as he waited for some response.

“What are you doing,” she breathed excitedly, as he had been so adamant not to be with her like this anymore.

“Forgetting about normalcy just this one last time.”

Judy opened her mouth to speak but his mouth quickly descended onto hers.

Gene focused on the relieved whimper that escaped her mouth as he kissed her. When his tongue swept against hers for the first time in a very long time, she clung onto him desperately, as if she were afraid he would pull back.

He wasn’t going to, not this time. He wanted to remind her what she still did to him, and what he still wanted to do to her no matter how far apart they had been. And, since she had obviously been looking for a good time in the wrong place, he decided to give her body its craving in the right place.

There, pressed against the wall as they shared the most deepest, sexual kiss he could ever remember having, in the back of Gene’s mind, he knew her satisfaction wouldn’t last, that she’d be out looking for another man sooner or later. He needed a promise from her.

Slowly pulling back from their lip lock, her lower lip snapped back from his mouth, and she let out a breath through her nose biting the bottom of that lip that he had just been sucking on. He forgot why she stopped for a moment as she was so turned on that it made his dick harden.

“Judy.”

“Mmm,” was all she could reply as she felt those erotic butterflies in her tummy spread up to her chest, tingling her nipples.

“Next time you go out, you have to be more careful, and selective. Don’t go searching for an every-day stranger,” Gene placed his pointer finger and thumb on her chin gently lifting her face, “Promise me.”

Judy lifted her eyes to his and looked at them back and forth with sincerity, “I promise.”

Without his eyes leaving hers, his hands slid over her bottom and reached down as they slid down back thighs. They both let out an aroused sound as he picked her up, her legs around his waist, and walked them down the hall.

The rain hitting the window? No. The echo of the radio from the kitchen playing? No. Gene’s mouth between her legs? Oh, yes.

That’s all she heard, even ignoring her own whimpers and cries, as he oh so skillfully made her feel so delicious and orgasmic. She was perched on the large, long, rectangle console table against the curved stairwell wall in the foyer. The table was heavy, or else it would have most-likely broken when he sat her on top of it. They weren’t exactly gentle when removing one another’s clothes against it, either. The decorative books that had been on top were now laying in disarray next to a kneeling Gene, but the vase with a bouquet of mixed flowers, surprisingly, hadn’t been affected.

As Judy moved her leg up on his shoulder a bit, she felt her jumper dress slide off her ankle, where it had been dangling for a few minutes now. Gene’s right hand acknowledged her leg, and softly caressed her thigh there, not stopping his licks and sucks.

His knees started to feel the effects of the marble floor just then, but Gene didn’t care. The way her body, and her voice, were responding to him made it so fucking worth it. He had wanted to take her upstairs to her bed, but the passion and sexual frustration that had built up from not being together all this time, took its toll on them and they ended up there in the entry-way.

Gene let go of her thigh and reached down to caress himself with just enough pressure to relieve some tension. However, he didn’t realize how sensitive he had become and he groaned against her. It felt so good that he continued to caress his hard on.

He heard Judy giggle through a gasp as he continued to groan against her through his sucks. It was a different sensation for her that just heightened the experience. But he had to stop his wrist or he knew eventually he’d embarrass both of them. He wanted to get her there. When he adjusted himself for a more comfortable angle, he hit a sensitive spot for her. Gene heard another loud cry from her as her hand immediately squeezed his hair keeping his head in place.

Smiling to himself, he started flicking the area underneath her pearl back and forth that made her thighs quiver.

“That feels so good,” Judy breathlessly whimpered. When he stopped flicking that area, and started sucking on it instead, she gasped, “Oh my gosh.”

The place he focused on was so sensitive that it almost was a painful type of pleasure, but her rising orgasm made it feel unstoppable.

Continuing, he felt her body start to tense up and her cries skipped as she reached up behind her. Her knuckles turned white as she squeezed the white bars on the stairs. Hearing her squeak and her body still, Gene let his mouth off her and watched as her entrance contracted in a quick rhythm, getting even wetter. He thought he’d come right then and couldn’t wait to feel it himself.

Standing up, he remained in between her legs, as he gave her a peck on the lips. She immediately smiled and opened her eyes. Staring into his sparkling ones, she giggled amused from how amazing that was. He smiled back and gave her another kiss before lifting her off of the table. He didn’t want to fuck her here. But before he could even suggest moving, she immediately lowered onto her knees.

“Baby…” he protested but her mouth was already on him. He realized she was a giver as much as a taker during sex, and it pleased her as much to so, as much as did him, but he was far too ready.

Luckily, she was privy to his thoughts, and familiar with his body. Judy took it slow and didn’t concentrate on the most sensitive areas, unlike what he had just done, but his goal was different. Judy wanted him to come from being inside of her. When she felt his cock twitch, she stood back up. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she placed one hell of a kiss on him. He held her naked body closer and groaned happily at it.

Gene knew her legs were jelly, and his knees were pretty numb, but he managed to carry them up the stairs. He wanted to fuck her on her bed. Judy deserved that, especially since that other guy would have probably been a two-pump chump in the backseat of his Cadillac with her. Not him, though she didn’t make it any easier as her hips slowly slid up and down his shaft, which was nestled in between their lower belly’s as he walked them into her bedroom.

The rain had stopped, birds were now chirping outside her veranda doors and the sun was beginning to shine, as they made love on top of her luscious bed. The two enjoyed their closeness, as Gene laid fully on top of her, rhythmically moving his hips in and out in a timeless pace as they slowly kissed. But the heat from downstairs was very much present and soon his grinds got quicker, pushing his body against hers harder.

Just as the headboard started making a sound against the wall, so did Judy’s responses as she started moaning again. She was so slick and warm and tight, Gene found it excruciating to hold back. Fortunately, she answered his prayers.

“Fuck me,” she whispered.

They were having sex, but she knew the difference from making love and what she had just pleaded. At least she wasn’t naïve about that.

After giving her a kiss as if to say ‘ok’, he removed himself, which felt like a relief and frustration at the same time. Gene kneeled as she got up and turned around on her knees, holding onto the headboard. Both sated with natural lubrication, it was almost too easy as he slid into her center from behind. It always felt better this way, in a more naughty sensation.

The sound of dogs barking outside and the ticking of her clock on her nightstand was muted by the pounding of their skin as he fucked her. It wasn’t even a full minute when he felt his balls start to tighten. Groaning and nearly holding his breath to keep himself from letting go, he started to feel her twitch around him and he wanted to cry out with relief that she was close. He was too focused on the sensations right now to pay attention to her moans. By now he was familiar with what each of her sounds meant, which was a good way for him to know which direction to go, but right now he didn’t have that kind of concentration.

Gene didn’t even hear her whimper that she was coming when all of a sudden his cock was being milked hard and fast by her orgasm and another rush of her arousal soaked him. Without warning, he felt his pre-cum and had just enough time to pull out. Moaning loudly over and over, he stroked himself frantically as his orgasm shot out onto her lower back.

The phone ringing woke both of them up. Judy lifted her head from Gene’s chest startled as he reached over sleepily picking up the receiver. He didn’t answer, obviously, he handed it to Judy. She had to get her bearings a moment, as she hadn’t realized she fell asleep, before answering.

“Hello?”

“Hi, sweetheart, it’s Van.”

“Oh, hi.”

“How you feelin’,” he asked amused.

“I’m fine.”

“Swell. Say, is Gene still there?”

Judy furrowed her brows and looked at Gene, “Uh, no, he’s not,” Gene mouthed ‘what’ and she continued, “Why?”

“Because his wife called me for a second time. First time I was able to tell her he was still sleeping but it’s the afternoon now. I told her he left but thought I’d try to see if he was still over there so I could warn him.”

“Oh, golly. No, he’s not here.”

“Alright. Well, I'm glad you feel ok,” Van laughed, “You should have seen you last night. You were…”

Judy hung up the phone annoyed.

“What,” Gene asked, sitting up curious.

“That was Van. He said Betsy has called him twice looking for you. He uh, he just told her you left. He was calling to see if you were still here.”

“I told him to cover my alibi so I could stay with you. I really should get going before someone sees my car out there,” he said and got out of bed.

She nodded and sat up, the sheets around her as she hugged her knees to her chest.

“Are you going to be alright?”

“Oh,” she smiled, “I am now.”

He leaned down, his hands pushing onto the mattress as he came nose to nose with her, “Remember what you promised me.”

“I know,” she said and placed her hand on his cheek as she kissed him, “Thank you.”

“Friends?”

Judy couldn’t hide the quick disappointment in her eyes but she respected him enough to respect his wishes of working on his marriage.

She smiled and nodded, pinching his cheek, “Friends.”

Right before Gene walked out, he looked back at her, “Judy.”

“Mm hm?”

“Maybe I was a little jealous.”

Her smile broke wide and he winked before walking out.

#jugenea #judy garland #gene kelly #jg fans #gk fans

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birds-punch · 3 years

Text

The Three - Way Scandal

Summary: When Mickey Mouse accidentally stumbles upon his best friend, Donald Duck kissing two certain Caballeros; the mouse quickly takes it upon himself to investigate if the duck is cheating on Daisy or not.

Characters: Mickey Mouse, Minnie Mouse, Donald Duck, Goofy, Daisy Duck, Panchito Pistoles, José Carioca, Several other Disney Characters.

Pairing: Donald x Panchito x José (Three Gay Caballeros), Donald x Daisy (past!)

Notes:

This is literally the first OT3 fanfic I’ve written in a long time and not to mention the very first time I actually written Mickey, Goofy and Minnie so I apologize if I made anyone OOC in this.

I also used Google Translate for the Spanish and Portuguese words that Panchito and José speaks in this fic, so feel free to tell me if I got anything wrong and I’ll quickly fix it.

“Hey Minnie, have you seen Donald? He wasn’t at the door earlier.” Mickey asked, getting off the stage after he introduced himself to the crowd.

Minnie looked up from her schedule, tapping her chin with her pen. “Sorry Mickey, I didn’t see him either. But Panchito and José are here tonight, why don’t you go ask them?”

Mickey’s expression lit up at the suggestion, “That’s a great idea! Thanks, Minnie!” He said giving her a wave, before walking off to find the two birds.

Surely finding two colourful looking birds would be easy right? Well apparently not, because after going through the entire theatre and checking every single table along with the foyer, (where he got the same answer from Daisy) the mouse still couldn’t find the duck. Letting out a tired sigh, Mickey went back to sit on the red couch that’s near the dressing rooms and the back entrance to the stage.

‘Where could Donald have gone off to?’ The mouse thought to himself, trying to come up with some ideas on where his best friend might’ve gone to.

As if the universe finally got tired of him trying to figure out, the sound of three muffled voices came into ears. Turning his head into the direction of the noise, Mickey found himself face to face with Donald’s dressing room door. Quickly getting off the couch, he walked over to the door about to knock when he noticed that it wasn’t even locked or closed properly, showing a gap large enough for anyone to peek through.

Despite knowing that’s incredibly rude to listening in on other people’s conversations and spying on them at the same time. Mickey couldn’t control his curiosity or his impatience from peeking through the gap, tuning his round ears towards the conversation.

The white duck fiddled with his work jacket, looking quite uneasy towards two familiar birds.

“Ooohh... I’m so nervous guys. I’m not sure if this is gonna go well for us in front of everyone.”

José immediately stepped in, a calm supportive smile on his beak, “It’ll be alright, meu patinho. Don’t forget that this not only you’ve been waiting for a há muito tempo, but also Panchito and I as well. We’ll be here by your side, up on that stage tonight.”

Panchito also stepped in, placing a hand on the duck”s shoulder. “Being nervioso for this big confession is normal, Mi Patito. But I promise everything will be alright in the end and if no one accepts us for what we have together,” the rooster then shook a fist in the air. “Iré a ellos y los haré comer mi puño!”

Mickey felt a rush of confusion go through his body. He doesn’t remember asking the Three Caballeros to perform for tonight or Minnie changing the schedule a little. They’re probably just here to visit their friend.

A smile finally forms on the mallard’s face, before wrapping his arms around the two Caballeros in a two way embrace.

“Thanks guys, I really needed that.”

“You do not need us to thank us, meu amor,” José replied, returning the hug. “Panchi and I tell you these things because we love you very much and are proud of how far you have come and how brave you are.” The parrot finished, taking Donald’s cheek into his hand.

“I love you guys too.”

Hearing those words was still as powerful as the very first time he told the pair his feelings of love a long time ago. Taking the initiative, José gently placed his beak over Donald’s before letting Panchito do the same.

Mickey’s mouth dropped open in shock at the scene that was happening right in front of his eyes. A million questions ran through his short circuited head. ‘When did this happened?!’, ‘Why didn’t Donald tell him and Goofy?’, ‘How long have they all been together?’

The mouse rubbed the back of his head, still trying to process what the Three Caballeros just did in Donald’s dressing room. He couldn’t believe that Donald had kept this secret relationship to himself for a very long time and so well that no one had even suspected that anything had changed about the white Pekin. But... if Donald didn’t tell anyone other than the fact that he either bi or gay (not saying that the mouse has anything against it.), does that mean it’s because he’s cheating on Daisy?

He immediately shook his head, trying to erase that last thought.

‘No way! Donald may cheat at anything, cheating in a relationship just isn’t like him!’ The star thought to himself furiously. A second thought then invaded his mind, ‘Then again... Whenever Donald and Daisy are together and Minnie and I go on double dates with them, he never really smiled on any of them.’

Mickey started to walk away from Donald’s dressing room towards the stage. But if that was the case, why would Donald even be cheating on her? Well, he’ll get some help trying to figure this out later. He must go and introduce the first cartoon to the guests.

“Hey Goofy!”

Said Goof looked up from the table he was serving.

“A-hyuck! Hi Mickey, what’s up?” He greeted, placing the ordered dish on the table.

The mouse looked around, before gesturing to his best friend to come down so he could whisper in his ear.

“There’s something I need your help with at the moment. It might have to do with Donald and Daisy.”

Goofy turned to look at his friend with surprise, already forgetting that he’s supposed to head back to the kitchen.

“Gawsh Mick. Is there something going on between Donald and Daisy?”

Mickey opened his mouth but then closed again, pursing his lips. Is this really a good idea? Getting Goofy involved in all this? Getting Donald to stop cheating on his girlfriend is one thing but he also doesn’t want to ruin Goofy’s friendship with the duck as well!

“Mickey, what wrong?” The dog asked, looking at how worried his best friend looked.

Drawn out of his thoughts by the waiter, Mickey looked up for several seconds then looked back at the table where Panchito and José were seated at, the two birds speaking to each other before getting off their seats and heading straight for the foyer, the parrot taking with him a glass of water. The mouse then turned back to look at his friend, still looking concerned as ever.

“Okay, Goofy I’ll tell ya. But not where everyone can see us.”

“WHAAAAAATTTTT?!!!!” Goofy’s voice echoed through the entire building.

“Shh!!” Mickey quickly shushed his best friend, looking around to see if Goofy’s outburst attracted any attention.

Goofy covered his mouth to prevent himself from yelling again.

“Are you sure, Mick? Is our pal Donald really cheating on Daisy with Panchito and José?” The black dog asked, still shocked by what his best friend told him.

Mickey scratched his chin, “Well I’m not really sure, until we get all the facts. It all might just be an inside thing they do together. But I did saw them heading for the foyer, so they be looking for Donald right now and we have to go see what they’re up to!”

With that, the two best friends quickly headed into the foyer before hiding themselves behind a pillar. There was Donald at the door greeting Pogo, Perdita and their one hundred and one children. After finishing with the last puppy, the duck wiped the sweat off his forehead in a show of exhaustion, before slowly looking up to see his fellow Caballeros coming up to see him again, a smile growing on his beak once José handed him the glass of water.

“Gawsh Mickey, I’ve never seen Donald look so happy to see someone like that before.” Goofy whispered, peeking out from behind the pillar with said mouse.

“Yeah...” the mouse couldn’t help but feel a stab of jealously at how happy the duck looked with his two fellow Caballeros. Not even he saw Donald this happy through all the past years they’ve spent together.

Panchito then said something that made Donald shook his head, smile still attached on his beak. Mickey believed he heard the duck saying he can’t take a break because he’s still quite busy tonight and that he wants to go over what he plans to say in front of the guests. José then placed a hand on the duck’s shoulder, whispering something in his ear that made the white mallard turned red before trying to cover his face, feigning annoyance as his two best friends (unknowingly) watched in surprise.

Before Mickey and Goofy could even try to process Donald’s extremely flushed face, Panchito then gently grabbed the duck’s head, pressing a soft kiss on the top of the duck’s beak before allowing the Brazilian Parrot have his share of kisses with the duck.

Goofy’s eyes bugged out and his mouth went slack jawed at the sight. He couldn’t believe his eyes! Panchito and José are smooching their best friend Donald and he seems to be enjoying it.

“I-It really is true... Our pal Donald is a cheating heart...” The dog muttered, still watching the three birds shower each other with loving affection.

“Yeah I... I guess there’s no point denying it anymore.” Mickey sighed, sounding quite sad that there’s a chance both his and Goofy’s friendship with Donald is ruined.

“What are we gonna do, Mick? Donald can’t keep cheating on Daisy like this!” Goofy whispered.

The mouse rubbed his chin in thought. “I’m not sure Goofy, but I remember the three of them discussing something about announcing to the guests up on stage tonight. Maybe if I can stop Donald and the other Caballeros from getting up on the stage, we might just be able to get this all sorted out.”

“Okay, but how’s that gonna work?”

“First; you go find Daisy while I’ll stall for time and once she’s here; Donald, Panchito and José will have to explain themselves to her, making them run out of time to get on stage and announce what they’re gonna say.”

Goofy saluted, “Got it Mick!” He than ran off to go find Daisy, leaving Mickey to continue watching the three birds talk to each other a little longer before making their way to the backstage, unaware of the spying mouse.

Donald wheezed from nervousness, going through some breathing exercises with Panchito and José, the two of them gently holding his shoulders.

“That’s it, Donal’. Breath in, breath out. Breath in, breath out.” José spoke softly, helping the white duck.

The rooster gently shushed in his ear, “It’s alright, mi Patito. We’re right here besides you and we’ll be together on that stage.” He then nuzzled the duck’s head feathers in a comforting manner.

A tiny smile grew on the duck’s beak, from his lovers’ support and the slow nuzzling on his head. The smile slowly changed to a determined expression as confidence slowly began to surge within in, his chest starting to puff out.

“Alright, I can do this! Panchito, José, come on! Let’s get on that stage!!” The duck spoke with much spirit and energy, immediately marching for the stage in a straight line. The two Latin birds shared a look of surprise before breaking into a small run to keep up with the confident Pekin.

“Pato, wait!” José called out, stopping just behind Donald who was an inch near the curtain. “Shouldn’t we wait for senhor Mickey first?”

“Aw, phooey!” Donald scoffed. “We don’t have time to wait for Mickey to introduce us, I’ll do it myself!”

“Whatever you say, mi amigo.” Panchito shrugged, unable to stop a proud smile from growing on his beak at how brave and confident his American boyfriend is.

“Donald, wait!” Mickey panted, stopping just front of the three birds as he tries to catch his breath.

The three birds watched the exhausted mouse with bemusement before the white duck turned back towards the curtain, not listening to his best friend due to being too focused on his current goal.

“Sorry Mickey, but We gotta go up on stage now.” The duck then hooked arms with Panchito and José, all three of them heading onto the stage as Mickey watches helplessly.

Upon seeing the crowd of Disney Characters sitting at the tables with all eyes on them, the duck chuckled nervously as he pulls his shirt collar. The two Latin birds gave their American lover’s arms a supportive squeeze, still holding onto to him. Letting himself take a very deep breath, he managed to regain the strength to speak.

“H-Hi everybody. Unfortunately we’re not here to perform tonight,” Several disappointed groans echoed through the auditorium, the crowd obviously wanted to watch the trio sing, like the previous times they were here at the house. “But we got something incredibly important to tell all of you.” Unhooking his arms, Donald took his two lovers’ hands in his’. Here we go, it’s the moment of truth.

“Panchito, José and I. We’re a-“

“Donald, stop! You can’t do this!!” A certain mouse exclaimed, quickly running up on the stage.

The American Pekin looked incredibly outraged, temper rapidly starting to rise. “WHAT?! WHY NOT?!”

Panchito and José quickly took hold off the angry duck’s arms to stop him from beating up the mouse, but they each still looked just as vexed as their boyfriend.

“Isn’t it obvious, Donald?” Mickey asked, trying his best to keep his cool and guard in case the duck goes after him.

“NO MICKEY, IT’S NOT IF YOU DON’T TELL ME WHAT IN THE NAME OF DISNEY YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT!!” The duck responded, struggling to put up his fists.

“STOP CHEATING ON DAISY, DONALD!” Mickey finally yelled.

Every guest in the auditorium gasped in shock from what their favourite mouse just yelled at the duck. Whispers started to fly around the tables between each Disney Character, everyone wanted to know what’s going on.

Donald’s expression turn from anger to utter confusion, loosing the adrenaline from wanting to punch the mouse as Panchito and José looked at each other, just as equally confused.

“Say that again, Mick?” The white mallard said, having trouble trying to process what he was just accused of.

Mickey’s expression also melted in bemusement. “Stop cheating on Daisy, Donald...” he repeated, also sounding confused.

“What’s going on here, boys?” Said female duck asked, walking onto the stage with Goofy and Minnie following behind.

Every single eye in the building landed on Daisy, as Donald facepalmed himself, silently asking himself why is this happening to him.

Thankfully José spoke up for him, “Nossas desculpas senhorita Daisy. It seems our amigo, senhor Mickey is accusing our Patinho of cheating on you.”

Daisy’s eyes widen slightly, looking at Mickey then at Donald and the two birds before sighing to herself, shaking her head. “Mickey, you’ve got it all wrong. Donald isn’t cheating on me; we broke up a long time ago.”

Another loud gasp went through the audience who were watching everything that unfolded right in front of their eyes. Mickey open and closed his mouth, unable to find the words to say when Donald chimed in, fiddling with the rim of his uniform jacket.

“Mickey, I broke up with Daisy so I wouldn’t cheat on her with the two guys before I started dating them. She knew the whole time because I had to tell her I love Panchito and José, I didn’t want to lie to her.”

The mouse took a while to process what the two duck’s just told him. Another question however, was on his mind. “But if you told Daisy a long time ago, why didn’t you tell me or Goofy until now?”

Donald slumped slightly, still fiddling with his jacket. “Because it wasn’t safe for all three of us at the time.”

Everyone in the audience immediately went quiet as they watched, Panchito and José gently placed their hand on the duck’s shoulder with sadness in their usually bright and energetic eyes.

A sigh passed the duck’s beak. “When all three of us started dating two years after our movie came out in 1945, we couldn’t have an open relationship because of society at that time and aside from Daisy and my three nephews, Huey, Dewey and Louie. no one would’ve understand what we have together. So all three of us with Daisy’s help, kept it a secret from everyone else.” Donald then let out a short laugh, “We’ve almost been caught a few times before, but somehow we still kept it under wraps.”

Shortly after the white mallard spoke his word, Panchito quickly took over.

“But you see Señor Mickey, now that sociedad has become more open minded and free, the Three Caballeros talked about finally coming out and we all agreed to tell everyone tonight at the House of Mouse.”

José then noticed that Mickey looked rather downcast, covering his face with his hands.

“Você está bem, Mickey?” The parrot asked just after Donald and Panchito noticed that something was wrong with the host.

“No.” The mouse replied, lifting his head up to look at his best friend, “I’m so sorry Donald. I should’ve asked you what’s going on between you and the other Caballeros instead of just assuming you’re cheating on Daisy and ruining your confession to everyone.” Mickey then turned to look at Goofy, “I’m really sorry I got you involved in this too, Goofy.”

The waiter simply brushed it off, “Aww, Mick. It’s fine. You were worried for both Donald and Daisy, I was too.”

Donald placed a hand on Mickey’s shoulder. “Well, the whole coming out wasn’t really how me and the boys expected it and I was pretty mad when you tried to stop us, but in the end we managed to do it and it seems everyone here, is okay with it too.”

As if on cue, everyone in the crowd started clapping and cheering as a show of support as Mickey pulled his best friend in a hug, saying his own words of support.

“What a night this turned out to be, huh?” Donald asked his best friend before saying a goodbye to Winnie the Pooh and Piglet.

“Ha ha, it sure has.” Mickey’s smile weaken a little. “I still can’t believe how much of a jerk and an idiot, I acted towards you and your boyfriends though.”

Donald sighed, “Mickey I already told you, it’s alright. It was kind of my fault as well since I didn’t tell before the show started.”

“You wanted it to be a surprise and I kind of ruined it.” The mouse rubbed the back of his head. “But it still turned into a surprise somewhat.” He remarked, laughing a little.

“Yeah, did you see the look on everyone’s faces when you accuse me of going behind Daisy’s back? That was priceless!”

The two best friends fell into a small fit of laughter when José rushed back inside the club, just stopping at their feet.

“Meu bem, it’s an emergência!” The green parrot said in between pants.

Donald quickly rushed to his Brazilian lover’s side. “What’s wrong, Joe? Are you hurt?!”

José shook his head, smoothing out his cream coloured jacket. “Não it’s not me. Do you remember, what you Americans called him...uh what’s the termo?” He snapped his fingers, trying to think. “Ah! That air headed dog called Gaston? He just said some really palavras horríveis about the three of us and Panchito just challenged him to a gunfight!”

The duck wakked in shock before grabbing a chair and running outside. “Panchito! Hang on, I’m coming!” He then ran off onto the street.

“Donal’ wait, you’re going the wrong direção!” The Parrot turned to the mouse and shook his hand in a way that would’ve made the rooster proud. “Sinto muito Mickey, but I must go and help my namorados now. Obrigado pelo seu gentil apoio, despedida!”

With that, José ran into the direction of the duck, swinging his black umbrella around like a sword as Mickey watched on from the inside of the House of Mouse.

#house of mouse #the three caballeros #three gay caballeros #panchito pistoles #jose carioca #donald duck #Mickey Mouse #goofy #minnie mouse #daisy duck #Disney #fanfiction

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mrvdocks · 4 years

Text

Plus One

Summary: Steve gets some closure. You and Nancy get a big surprise.

A/N: well, well, well, here we are. One chapter away from the finale. I hope you guys enjoy it. :)

Two weeks. You’d been gone for two weeks.

At first, he thought you just needed some time to cool off, so he waited. And waited.

And waited.

When you didn’t return after the third day, that’s when he started to panic. He’d called Robin, only to be met with an earful of how you were too good for him and that he needed to make a reassessment of his life. He knew that.

The days started to feel long and lonely. Mickey was there sure, but he was starting to miss your presence. Your loud and annoying laughter didn’t fill his ears when he would watch your favorite shows. He wished you’d come out of the room at times and yell at him for using your luxurious things.

He’d broken the foot tub. He didn’t know how, but he’d broken it and he wasn’t nearly as knowledgeable about fixing things as much as you were.

Just when he was cleaning up his mess for the day, there was a knock on the door. He froze.

His heartbeat suddenly started to shake and rattle against his rib cage. There was an uneasy feeling in his stomach. One where you know you’ve done something wrong and tried to put it off and now have to face it.

He exhales slowly, dropping what he’s doing and preparing himself for the worst. Maybe you’d push past him or call him names or take Mickey. He thinks taking Mickey would be worse. He didn’t like being alone with his thoughts and God knows he couldn’t charm anyone else to spend time with him lately.

He opens the door in a swift motion, ready to say the usual “I’m sorry” but is met with someone he did not ever expect to see in the area.

Don Harrington. And company.

He’s in a grey suit jacket and jeans and sensible shoes, all things Steve hadn’t seen in a long time. Next to Don are two kids, the same kids that he hadn’t seen since he’d left Hawkins.

“Stranger! Stranger!” They yell in unison, pointing at Steve.

“Guys! It’s okay, it’s just Steve, remember?” Don laughs charmingly, bringing his hands onto the boys’ shoulders and rubbing them to calm them down.

“Dad?” Steve asks, completely wide-eyed.

The kids push past Steve and begin their scream-a-thon again. Steve is too struck by his father standing in front of him to even care that they’re probably making a mess inside.

“Hey son,” Don shoves his hands into his suit jacket. “Got a minute?”

Steve sighs.

Steve reaches for the water basin to give his dad water and almost hides his opened bottle of alcohol but in a small thought, offers it to his dad. Don refuses it, saying he’s watching his figure. Steve scoffs to himself, just a few years earlier his dad would’ve loved a cup, or at least the whole thing.

“What are you doing here, Dad?” Steve asks, pouring the water.

Don’s fingers tapped against the wooden table in drum-like motions. “Can’t a father visit his son with his future step-brothers? I’m worried about you, kid, you haven’t responded to any of my calls.”

Steve stops pouring. “Let’s not do this, alright?”

Don’s brows furrow. “Do what?”

Steve shoves the basin to the side. “Don’t pretend like you want to be there for me now. You had all that time then, why now?”

Don shuts his eyes.

“Steve, I’m sorry. Really, I am. Listen, I know I wasn’t the greatest -”

“You were a grade-A asshole who ruined our family.”

Don doesn’t fight with his son. He knows his sins. But that’s what he’s here for, atonement.

“Did I make some harsh decisions for you to toughen up? Yes. Did I make your mother and you lose trust in me? Yes, but I’m here now Steve. I didn’t leave. I could’ve but I didn’t.”

“So all of this,” he gestures to Don and the kids, “suddenly just makes up for all the bullshit you’ve given me? Do you know how many times I heard mom crying in the middle of the night? All those times she pretended like those business trips you took were actually for business? Hell, do you even remember what happened when I left?”

“Yes, I do.” Don nods, closing his eyes again in uneasy remembrance.

It would be better if the past was just forgotten.

“I know you’re angry at me. You have every right to be, but I did say I wanted to bury the hatchet. Everything I did is in the past now, your mother and I - you know, we moved on. She found someone and I did too. I think it’s only fair that you do as well. And I see you have.”

Steve tenses up a little at the latter half of Don’s sentence. He did, didn’t he?

“Yeah. Maybe not, Dad.” Steve avoids his father’s eyes and fiddles with things on the counter.

Don catches on. “Why?”

Exasperated, Steve stops what he’s doing.

“What happened? You made this girl sound like she was your soulmate tenfold!”

“Maybe soulmates don’t exist, Dad. Maybe not for me anyway.” Steve plops himself down in front of his dad, clutching the mug of water to sober himself up more.

Don frowns. “What happened?”

Steve hesitates. He’s never bared his feelings to his dad since he left. And even then, it was all just dry replies and sarcasm and bitterness. But maybe it’s the alcohol talking or the fact that his dad really does seem like he’s changed.

“I screwed it up. I just let myself get in my head and I - I pushed her away.”

Don places a comforting hand atop his son’s own. Steve recoils at first but settles. His father had never been too affectionate, no, that was his mother’s job. It felt off.

But it also felt a little more comfortable, honest. Like there wasn’t a hint of being affectionate for the sake of hiding some grand affair.

“Steve, you’d tell me the truth if I asked you right?”

“I guess.”

“Do you hate Mary?”

“What? No. No.”

“Then why are you so mad about us?”

“I’m not mad, Dad. I just - when you and mom split, it messed me up. I didn’t want to be like you guys. I just wanted to find the one and hang onto her forever. And now I’m completely alone, so. And you’re just moving onto your next family.”

“Steve, I’m sorry that your mother and I splitting up hurt you so much. I’d be nothing if I hadn’t met her and I also wouldn’t have you. But kiddo, as long as your mother and I are alive, you’ll never be alone. Including your girlfriend. It's not too late to fix things."

“Thanks for letting me crash here, Nancy. I promise I’ll be out of your hair soon.” You say, fixing up your couch bed.

Nancy waves your concern away.

“Don’t even worry about it, it’s nice having company. Plus it gets kind of lonely at night.” She says, setting the white timer on and setting it down on the counter.

“You cooking something?”

“No….just trying to time something.” She says vaguely. You don’t read too much into it for now.

Nancy smiles warmly instead, passing you a thick fleece blanket from the other couch. Jonathan was off doing a piece on the Northern Lights somewhere in Alaska. When Nancy had first revealed to him that you were staying with her until things settled, he had a few choice words for Steve.

You felt odd, having turned Steve’s friends somewhat against him. Nancy reassured you that this was familiar territory. They knew how Steve was. This is how she had remembered him in Hawkins during that honeymoon period they were in.

“Do you miss him?” Nancy asks, settling into the blanket with you and putting the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. She was about to play the movie you two had debated on for a solid three minutes.

You shrugged as you fiddled with the chipped nail polish on your fingers. “I love him, Nance. But if I can’t convince him that nothing’s going on, then what’s the point?”

You sigh as you close your eyes and try to imagine when the last time you saw Steve happy was. You think the day in California was the best day of your life. He was like a little kid again, running around the boardwalk and trying to impress you with the “test your strength” games. The sunset perfectly illuminated him when you laid on the cooling sand, a single curl falling loose on his forehead from his quiffed hair.

“I don’t think you should let this deter you. Maybe Steve’s just scared. I mean why wouldn’t he? He’s had a fear of unfaithfulness forever. His parents, his friends, me and Jonathan. To him, there’s always been someone better.”

“I know.” You frown. “But, and excuse the cliche, when I’m with him - it’s like nobody else matters. If I was still with Danny the second I moved in with Steve and Robin, I think I would’ve been in trouble.”

Nancy’s brows perk up, intrigued. “How so?”

“I’ve been in love with Steve since the day I moved in. I promised myself I wouldn’t move on so fast after Danny but, I messed up that day.”

Nancy smiles at the sweet thought.

You shake your head in thought. “I don’t know. Maybe I wasn’t his type after all.”

“Oh please, you’re definitely his type. Smart, tough, independent AND you have the balls to call him out on his bull? You’re his dream girl!”

You blush at the compliment. “Thanks, Nance.”

“You’re very welcome. Now, let’s riff on this romcom and throw popcorn when things get too cheesy.”

The movie goes on for half an hour, the bottom of the tv set covered in popcorn bits and kernels. You and Nancy laugh hysterically and boo at the cheesy romantic scenes whenever they pop up. When the timer goes off Nancy glances over her shoulder and stands, giving you the half-empty bowl of popcorn.

“I’ll be back.” She says, going to the upstairs bathroom.

“Alright, but don’t take too long. I think Tom Hanks gets naked in the next scene.”

“I won’t.” She chuckles and disappears.

You take a handful of popcorn in your hand and dump it in the hood of your sweater, bobbing for it in an attempt to stay distracted.

Five minutes pass and Nancy hasn’t returned. You glance at the time on the tape player. It’s only so long that you can bear to stare at Tom Hanks’ eyes before he loses his charm.

“Nancy?” You call out, hearing shifting from upstairs. No response though.

You count to three, getting up and letting pieces of popcorn fall to the ground.

“Naaancy.” You step onto the stairs carefully, grabbing onto the wooden railing.

Still no answer. You huff and resolve to go up the stairs.

“Nancy if this is your idea of a prank, just know it’s not great! I don’t get scared easily!”

You make it all the way to the top and glance down both ends of the hallway. You see a light on at the end of the hallway on the left, the door left ajar just enough to see the shower. You approach with caution, hoping not to catch Nancy in an unflattering position.

“Nancy?” You call again, now at the front of the bathroom door. You can hear sniffles like someone’s crying. Your brows furrow.

“Nancy?” You swing the bathroom door open slowly, meeting a crying Nancy on the floor next to the toilet.

“Hey,” Your voice lowers an octave and becomes soft. “You okay?”

You kneel down to her level and put a hand on her back, rubbing in circles.

She shakes her head, revealing a white stick in her hand. Your eyes widen when you realize what it is.

“These aren’t real right? These are joke tests?”

Nancy looks up at you in teary puppy dog eyes.

“I don’t know,” she hiccups. “I don’t know what to do. I was hoping it was a false alarm.”

Trying to make her feel better, you grab one of the untouched sticks and sit on the top of the toilet. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll pee on one too, and then we can see if it’s a false positive okay?”

“Okay.” She murmurs softly, chin now resting on her knees as she cowers against the shower door.

“Have you and Jonathan talked about this kind of stuff?” You ask, shimmying your sweats down.

She shrugs and looks to the side. “It’s too early. He’s just so focused on his career and I just got this job….it’s in the plans...just - not right now.”

You cock your head to the side with a sympathetic look.

“Hey. It’s all going to work out fine alright? You don’t have to tell him yet. We can figure it out. I’ll help you.”

Nancy sniffles and dabs at her teary eyes. She nods.

You both wait for the test results after a few minutes. You try to make her feel better with some small talk but you can tell the results weigh heavily on her mind. You grab the stick when enough time has passed, eager to make her feel better until you take a look at it.

“See? Nothing to be worried about.” You reassure her, waving the stick a few inches away from her face.

Nancy does a double-take. Her mouth formed an “O”.

“What?” Your grin falls. “Two lines means not pregnant right?”

She stands quickly, balancing herself on the edge of the sink. “Two lines is….pregnant.”

Your heart drops.

“Please say you’re joking.”

“No, it says it right here, look.” She hands you the paper from the box and on it clear as day, two lines equal pregnant.

You drop the stick onto the sink and start to hyperventilate. Nancy abandons the paper and wraps an arm around you.

“Are you? Are you - pregnant too?”

“No! No, I can’t be. I - I haven’t had sex since like Halloween week!”

Nancy gives you a knowing look. Your face falls.

“I’m too young to be pregnant!” You exclaim.

“What?”

“Nothing, brain fart.”

You rush out the bathroom door and downstairs to the kitchen where she keeps the home phone. You dial Robin’s number as fast as you can and tap your feet impatiently as you hear the line trilling.

“Come on, pick up.” You whisper.

Nancy rushes downstairs to stand in the doorway, clutching the manual and listening.

“Hello?” Robin’s voice alleviates some of your panic.

“Hold on I’m putting you on speaker.” You say, letting Nancy get a better listen.

“What? What’s going on? Did Steve apologize yet?”

You exhale shakily. “No, no he didn’t, I - um, I have something to tell you.”

You can hear Robin set down whatever she was holding as you capture her full attention. “What is it? You’re scaring me.”

“There’s no easy way to say this….but…I think, I’m pregnant.”

“You’re what?! Shut up!” Robin screeches. “Kali! Get in here!”

“What happened?” You hear Kali’s voice a split second later.

“Say what you just said again!” Robin commands.

“Kali, I think I’m pregnant.”

“You’re what?!?!” She gasps.

“I know!” You clap your hands over your face in shame and silently scream into them.

“Oh my god, what have you done? To like - the world?!” Robin cuts in.

“Robin…” Kali scolds.

“I’m sorry!”

“Oh god, what do I do?” You question the speakerphone.

“That kid is going to come out with a full head of hair and try to flirt with the nurse the second it’s born.” Robin bursts into a fit of laughter.

“Not funny, Robin!” You glare at the phone, trying to remain calm.

“Well, now you have to tell him!” Kali says.

“No, I don’t! You saw how well things went over a coffee machine, imagine a kid!”

“You have to! What if this is what he needs to stop acting like a kid?” Robin tries to reason. “He was always good with kids in high school and part of the reason is that those were his only friends!”

You cringe, remembering those stories.

“If losing his best friend wasn’t enough for him to stop acting like an idiot, what makes you think throwing a kid into the mix would?”

“I dunno. But Kali’s right. You have to tell him. Otherwise what happens when you start showing and the worst thing he can think is you’re getting fat?”

You scoff.

“Maybe they’re right,” Nancy chimes in. “I mean, how long are you going to go without talking to him? You have to make up at some point.”

You groan in frustration, raking your hands through your hair.

“I really hate that I consider you guys my moral compass. I truly do.”

Having responsible friends really was a pain sometimes.

The phone line rings and blares red as another call was coming through.

“That must be Jonathan.” Nancy guesses.

“Robin hold on, Jonathan might be on the line.”

“Oh good, I want to know what he thinks of all this.”

Nancy puts Robin on hold and picks up the phone from the receiver.

“Hello? Hold on, hold on, what’s going on?”

You can hear whoever’s calling speaking fast.

“No, she’s not here.” She lies.

You take a break from your panic attack to try and listen to the frantic voice on the other end. It’s all too fast for you to understand.

“You’re where? Slow down!” Nancy asks, glancing at you now and pointing to the phone.

“It’s Steve.” She mouths.

You freeze.

“Okay! Okay! I’ll let her know if I see her.” She hangs up and presses the button to get Robin back.

“What’s the sitch?”

“He said something about a dog.”

“Mickey?” Your voice grows concerned.

“I guess? He just said that something was wrong and he went to take him to the animal hospital.”

Your stomach dropped to your ass. You rushed over to the front door and put on your shoes as fast as you could.

“Did he say which one?” You ask, borrowing one of Jonathan’s coats. There was no way you were going out there in just sweats and a henley.

“Ummm I don’t know, I think the one on West and 61st street.”

“That’s where I work!” You exclaim. “You don’t have a car?”

Nancy shakes her head. “Jonathan’s the one who drives.”

“What about you Robin?”

“No can do, me and Kali have a meeting but keep me posted! Good luck!”

“Screw it I’ll take a cab.” You say goodbye to Nancy and rush out the door and brave the cold.

You whistle down a cab and hop in. “Murray’s Animal Hospital, please. And step on it!”

“Wait, (Y/N)? Is that you?” A familiar voice asks you.

The driver turns around, revealing himself to be…..speak of the devil, Danny.

“Danny? Oh for fuck’s sake.” You sigh and rub at your temples.

“Hey!” He says in a lighthearted tone. “Long time no see.”

“Danny, I will literally pay you extra to shut up and drive like hell alright?”

Danny does as he’s told and hauls ass. You grab a hold of the bar on top of your head for each swerve and crazed turn he does that earns him a honk of the horn from other cars and nearly sends you flying out of your seat.

Two messy car ride minutes later and you rush out of the taxi as soon as he parks outside the entrance to the animal hospital.

“Hey!”

“Give me a minute!” You flip him off and ignore him as you try not to think of the worst-case scenario happening with Mickey.

You must look like a lunatic to the girl sitting at your desk with wild hair and an overall messy appearance. You try your best to fix yourself up.

“Where is he? Where’s Mickey?” You ask frantically.

“Who?” Your replacement sitting at your desk asks.

“A black dog! He came in with someone, big hair? Big head?”

She gets the gist and points to the right and down the hallway. You take deep breaths as you will yourself to put on a brave face.

Steve’s sitting on a chair with his face in his hands. He looks up when he hears the patterning of your footsteps against the sheet vinyl flooring. He gets up quickly, nearly knocking the chair over.

“H-Hey.” He says nervously, hand on his arm.

Come on, you can do this. You can do this.

“Hey.” You breathe.

He’s taking you in from top to bottom. It’s the first time he’s seen you since Halloween night.

“I missed you.”

“What happened?”

You both say in unison.

Your mouth falls agape as you take in his confession. Fortunately, he pretends like your question took more priority.

“I don’t know. One second my stepbrothers are playing with him, the next he’s choking on some toy they brought.”

“What was so important that you couldn’t keep an eye on him? I knew it. I knew I should’ve come back for him.”

You didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh but the situation was starting to make you realize something. Say you did have this kid, would it even survive for a month?

“My dad came to visit.” He stares down at the tips of his shoes, shoving his hands into his pockets. The same way he did last time you saw him.

“Oh.” You let out. Well, this changes things.

“What did he want?”

“He wanted to fix things.”

“Did it work?”

He shrugs. “Having that talk with him, it made me realize something.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat. “What is it?”

“Hey, you coming or not? The meter’s running.” Danny’s voice comes to interrupt a peaceful conversation.

“Danny.” Steve acknowledges.

“Hey,” Danny replies, eyeing him. “Stan, right?”

“It’s actually Steve.” He corrects.

Danny laughs it off. “Okay man.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as you know this situation just took a turn. You grab a handful of bills from your pocket and shove them into his chest.

“Fuck off.” You command.

Danny takes his wad of money and leaves.

Things fall silent again as Steve clears his throat.

“So….Danny huh?”

“Oh shut up, I needed a ride. I didn’t know he was the one driving the damn cab.”

“Does he know about me?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know. I figure the whole sleeping with my sister thing cancels out if he sees me with someone else.”

Steve nods, confused.

Beat.

“Can I...can I tell you something?” Steve asks, getting closer and closer to you. You feel butterflies when he does.

“Please don’t make a big speech.”

“It’s not a big speech. It’s a medium - medium speech.”

“Okay….”

“You were right. You were completely and totally right about me. I am an asshole. And you were right about these weddings. I didn’t know what I was looking for. I would get in my head about all these things that the perfect person should or shouldn’t be. And I’ve been thinking. A lot. Being alone in that apartment made me realize something.”

“That you’re lonely and afraid of commitment?”

He chuckles. “No. You’re not there to insult me or make fun of me when I come home from work. You’re not there to tell me how much of an idiot I look in the groomsmen photos or how my speech was shitty. You’re not even there with me and Mickey.”

He’s starting to tear up, his eyes get blurry and watery and he has to wipe discreetly at them. It was time to confront his demons and make it up to you. Being alone was just a taste of what would become of him if he didn’t swallow his pride.

“And I know the only reason you’re not there is because I hurt you. I hurt the one person who never deserved it. And I pushed you away because I’m stupid and I’m selfish and fuck me for being too late but I love you! I love you.”

You felt your lip quivering with each little detail he added about his epiphany. But the straw that broke the camel’s back was the declaration of love.

“Y-You love me?” Your voice cracks.

“Of course.” He breathes out, hands reaching for yours to take reassuringly.

“Steve...I really….I have to tell you something.”

“Please don’t say you and Danny are back together.”

“No...no it’s not that,” you try to work up the courage to tell him. “I’m....I think - I’m pregnant.”

Steve steps back for a moment. He feels the shock settle in. He lets out a surprised gasp as he takes both his hands and folds them behind his head.

“You’re what?”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #plus one #stranger things imagine #HERE YOU GO

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undercoverwizardfanfiction · 3 years

Text

Fathers and Sons Part 1: A ROTTMNT Fantasy Fanfiction

Summary: When a old friend shows up, Leonard is forced to face a difficult past all while keeping Donnie safe. But will it be enough to escape unharmed?

Takes Place a bit after “The Thief and the Orphan”

Word Count:2478

Pairing: Ok if you ship ANYTHING in this I’m going to seriously have to reccomend you seek therapy. Or do a soul searching montage. Which ever your insurance will cover

Rating: PG for Mild Violence

“Ok hear me out-“

Len ,without looking away from the cabbage he was inspecting, says, “Danny I swear if I turn around and your’e holding a bag of onions bigger then Donnie I’m going to use your suits for my new quilt.”

Danny let out a small scoff (followed by the undeniable sound of someone setting down a giant bag of surplus). A small shoulder bumped his hip, drawing his attention down to the twelve year old soft shell at his side, giving him a sour look with puffed up cheeks, “Uh oh, I know that look. What did I do?” Len asks

“I am not a official unit of measurement Dad.”Donnie says in a way that supposed to indicate he was offended. But judging by the way he was pressing his mouth into a fine line he was trying hard not to smile. Len doesn’t share his attempt to hide a smile as he rubs Donnie’s scalp as though to ruffle his imaginary hair, “He tries to catch any sign that Donnie was upset ,he had a bad habit fo not always sharing his feelings, but the child seemed alright. Len, picks up a frost apple and turns it over to check for rotten spots. Danny snatches the apple out of his hand, Len looks to him and sees Danny giving him a questioning look before glancing at the child holding his fathers hand, leaning against him with a half bored expression on his face but also probably to give his braced leg a break, “Think we can afford a quick lesson?” Danny asks

A wave of uneasiness came over Len as he quickly glanced around the market. Thankfully the guards were too busy off getting bribes or drunk and the vendor is too busy having a staring contest with a spider on their stand. After a moment to think it over he nods to Danny though he unconsciously grips Don’s hand tighter in his. Danny’s crouches down to Don’s level, “What do you think kid? Ready for a lightning round?”

Don’s eyes widen for a moment before looking to Len. Despite the overprotective knot in his stomach he gives a nod. Don looks back to Danny with a look of determination. Danny gives a grin, pulling out the apple out from behind him and tosses it up into the air before snatching it and hiding it behind his back, barely keeping it in sight for more then a few seconds. “Alright, notice anything wrong with the apple?”

Don’s brow furrows in a way Len knew he was thinking about the brief time he had been allowed to see the apple. To a passerby it may have looked like a simply game a uncle was playing with his nephew but it was a good observation test to see how many defections Donnie could notice with as brief as window as possible. Which would prove useful if Donnie was ever staking out a score in the future. “It wasn’t fully blue yet, “ he says after a moment, “Which means it has plenty of time to ripe. And it didn’t have any bruising.”

“Almost right.” Danny drew the apple out again, angling the fruit so Donnie could see the top of it “The stem is twisted and withered a little which means the farmer who grew it took care to make sure it was stored properly.”

Don immediately frowns, “shoot.” He says tapping his foot against the ground angrily. Physically reprimanding himself for his mistake

“Hey now,” Danny rubs his scalp “you’re getting better. you’re catching on a lot faster then you Dad did.” Len made sure to cast the rat a sour look (mostly for the added insult in his direction)

Len can still feel Don’s disappointment as he leans against his Dad’s leg. Len didn’t always approve of doing tests like these in public. But he didn’t want Donnie to feel dishearten. HE hands the bag of groceries to Danny (who takes it with a soft grumble) and kneels down, a arm wrapped Dons shoulders, “Alright kiddo.” He says drawing Dons sad gaze to him, “Let’s say you wanted to ‘befriend someone here. Do you see someone who ‘d make a good ‘friend?’”

Eager at a chance to redeem himself, Donnie’s eyes dart around at a speed that Len knows means he’s focusing too hard, “Take a deep breath,”he reminds squeezing his shoulders gently, “there’s no time limit. ‘Friends’ will come around again.” Without looking at him, Don nods before closing his eyes and doing as he was told. This time when he looks around its at a slower more manageable pace, ‘I��d befriend the man in a brown cloak.”

Len looks at where Don’s looking at sees who he’s talking about, whose standing net in the shadow of another giant bull yokai, “Are you sure?” he asks, “Why not the two over there?” he says nodding towards the two squirrel yokai in bright clothes, “They look like they’d be good friends too.”

Donnie nods, “He’s a merchant pretending to be poorer then he is ,you can tell by his dragon scale gloves and glasses. And the guy with him is a body guard but the body guard looks tired like the merchant has been harassing him all night so even if I did.” Don pauses, “‘befriend him, the body guard probably wouldn’t try as hard to befriend me back.” Don’s eyes look to him for a moment as though to check his work, but Len just nods towards the squirrels, telling him to continue ,”They’re not actually rich, they look lost. The clothes are probably family heirlooms that they couldn’t bring themselves to sell, but they’re hands are really dirty which means they’re probably laborers. What ever they do have on them is probably a prized family possession. But it wouldn’t be right to befriend from them.” This time when Donnie looks at him Len gives him a smile and a nod, “good job baby boy, you got everything right.” He says gently pressing the corner of his mouth to Don’s forehead as he hugged him tightly around the shoulders. Even though Lens’ never been too sure about conducting these sort of tests in public, it’s worth it to see Don’s face blossom into a smile. Len rises back to a standing position. Mickey is already giving him a smile of approval as his flippers flutter happily, “Great job cookie!” he tells Donnie, squishing his cheek on Donnie’s scalp. Len takes the back of produce from Danny and returns to looking at the produce.

He had thought it was too soon to try and teach Don the skills he would need as a thief, and far too risky to do out in public, but luckily Danny always knew how to code the self titled “Thief Games” to make a observer think that , rather then teaching a child who to pick pocket and how to deduce a item worth stealing at a moments notice, that they were just teaching him how to make friends and playing games.

IT was inevitable, but that didn’t’ mean it didn’t make him anxious.

He was inspecting a group of half grown carrots when Donnie pulls on his arm to get his attention and immediately saw what had gotten Don so excited, a used book stand that had Don beaming up at him, “can I?” He asked , “Please? I have money.”

Uh oh. Len could feel his ‘overprotective dad’ instincts overwhelm his ‘dear moon Len the booth is literally a few feet away’ reasoning. He took a breath before he smiles, rubbing Dons’ scalp,” Ok take Mickey with you and do as he says. And here,” he reaches into his coin bag (thank the Mystic Moon for that extra good score they had hit before the snow had set in), he mentally counts up how much he’ll need for groceries before pulling out a few spare coins, “consider it a reward for doing so well,” Normally he didn’t like Donnie leaving his side in public, but it was worth it to see Don smile at him and take the coins, “Thanks Dad!” He says before hurrying over to the book vendor with Mickey trailing after him.

“Looks like you two are getting along again.” Danny says stepping by him. Picking through the produce,“I know things were hard there for a moment.”

“Yeah, we were training yesterday and he said,” Len pauses trying not to think about how the conversation had went, “some things that I know he felt bad about saying.” Len turns his attention to a giant bag of potato’s, when was the last time he had made fries? “Hes a great kid he just gets frustrated.”

“Hes at that age” Danny turns and leans at the stall, Len can tell he’s watching Donnie at the book stand. For someone who always claimed Len too overprotective, Danny was certainly a contender, “I can’t believe it was seven years ago you said you were going out to buy hair gel and you came back with a freaking kid.”

Len laughed, “Yeah,” it was weird how seven years could both feel like a lifetime and a blink of a eye. He could still remember when Donnie was too scared to leave his little corner of the house. He was so entrapped in those early memories that he almost jumped when Danny suddenly dumped his groceries into his arms causing Len to stumble for a moment, trying to keep from falling over, “Danny-“

“Mickeys started to look bored, I’m going to make sure he doesn’t start licking books-Mickey no! They’re covered in germs!” Danny said already hurrying over to where Donnie was desperately trying to pull a book away from Mickeys open mouth . It took him a moment to realize he wasn’t only left alone, but with bags of produce that even he was having a hard time balancing. He had thought is as overkill to bring the entire family along to of grocery shopping but the winter had been especially long. He didn’t blame any of them for running after him when he had went to get his cloak. He had actually been relieved to have help carrying the supplies back home but he should of known that was too good think their attention spans would hold out. With half humored grumbling he turns to the vendor,” Hey, can I leave this stuff behind with you until we leave?” Grateful when he nodded (before returning to his staring contest with the spider), Len somehow managed to shuffle behind the stand and drop off the bags food and the payment. He counted out his change again, they had ended up under budget (for once). Maybe he could go visit the sacred east booth, if they had rice flour he could make-“

“Hey babe”

Len drops the apple he had been looking at and grabbed at his knife when a another hand caught his and a arm wrapped around his chest, pinning his back against a chest. He wastes no time twisting to free himself before he feels the hand gripping his redirecting his knife holding hand so the sharp point was digging through the back of his shirt and over his kidneys under his coat so no one could see it. From a outside perspective someone might of thought that someone had jumped over to surprise a old friend. The person rests their cheek on his shoulder looking to him with a smirk “I can’t believe you actually let me do that Babe, how many times did you lecture Lief and Mickey for letting their guard down? oh how the mighty have fallen.”

Len grinds his teeth together, berating himself for a a few moments before forcing himself to calm down. The vendor hadn’t noticed what had happened, “What do you want Vito? I told you if i ever saw you again i’d skin you alive-“

“Ah you did didn’t you?” the silver yokai with a white mohawk and green markings around his eyes said as though just realizing he forgot his watch, or something trivial, “ But i just missed you so much i had to visit, babe. I must say, i’m digging the ponytail look you have going.” Vito used his hand to twirl his hair around for a moment ,”it really suits you.”

He’s too busy thinking of all the ways he wants to break Vitos army that he has to remind himself to stay calm. Despite how “attached” he claimed to be to Len, the Thief knew he had no problem shoving that knife between his ribs and leaving g him to bleed out “ I told you i hate it when you call me that Toe-“

“Ah but i think it’s cute, doesn’t it make you feel it make you feel special?” Vito presses his forehead uncomfortably close to Lens temple. Even after all the time Vito still smells like expensive cologne and candy, a sickly combination that makes his stomach twist,”How’s your boy doing? It’s been so long since i saw him-“

Len jerks around again “if you touch him-“

“I won’t i won’t. I happen to know he’s over book shopping with Danny and Mickey,” Vito let’s out a sigh “as much as i’d love to catch up with the boys, there’s someone who’s been dying to see you,” The hand on Lens chest rises up and plays with Lens bangs that slowly grow claws” and if you come quietly, you might live long enough to see your baby boy again,”

Len imagines catching his ankle around the back of Vitos ankle and getting them upper hand. But he looks to where the Mud Dogs are looking at books across the market. He watches Donnie look in his direction and his smile fade to terror. Of course he would understand what was going on, and in a way it makes Len hate Vito even more to make Donnie look so concerned for him. Donnie has already grabbed Danny’s hand but Danny is already looking like he’s about to charge across the market and kill Vito where he stands while Mickey grabs Donnies shoulders to keep him from running to him. But Len shakes his head at them as settle as he can. The pain swelling when Don’s eyes fill with tears. His natural instinct wants nothing more then to go to his child and comfort him. But HE knows he can’t do that if he makes the wrong move and ends up with a knife in his kidneys.

“Let’s just get this over with.” he growls at Vito as quietly as he can

“Aw that’s why i love you babe. You’re just so smart,” Vito twists the arm he has a grip on like someone would direct a horse and forces Len to walk ahead of them. The two of them disappearing into the crowd

Len didn’t care what happened to him

he just needs his son to be safe

#rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #donnie #rottmnt fantasy au #undercoverwizardninjaturtle #fantasy au #loathsome leonard #malicious mickey #dastardly danny #vito

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samanthadalton · 4 years

Text

Rumour has it

Takes place after chapter 2, mc (I called mines Josie) confronts Sam about being engaged)

pairings: mc (Josie) x f! sam

tags: @cloud9in

word count: 1.6k

The night after your encounter with Sam, if you wanna call making out with your boss on your first day on the job an encounter, you wake up feeling uneasy. The feel of Sam’s plush lips still linger on your lips, the heat of her body and how it molded perfectly against your own. The way she tangled her tongue with yours, and how her moans set your entire body alight. But after the kiss was abruptly interrupted by Sam’s alleged fiancee, you couldn’t help but be curious about Sofia.

After your talk with the boys last night, it was obvious that Sam was in some sort of relationship with Sofia, but you can’t help but wonder why it was so easy for her to lose control around you. How easy it felt being her arms. How your kisses felt like something you’ve done thousands of times. You remember the feeling of your heart shattering when Jenny found the Star Gossip article, which reported Sam’s unofficial announcement of her engagement. But you can’t shake the feeling that there must be more to the relationship since Mickey and Mason confessed that they’ve never even caught the pair kissing.

All you know is that you need to talk to Sam, no matter how much you may be dreading it.

You leave your bedroom determined to find Sam so you can arbitrate any feelings or concerns about what happened last night. The house is weirdly quiet considering two 7 year old boys live here but you feel a little dejected when you find a note from Sam attached to the fridge, ‘Took the boys to the park, enjoy your day off, Sam’.

‘Well that saves me a couple of hours from an awkward conversation’. You decide to text the only person who could give you some advice, so you pull up Jenny’s contact info and facetime her.

‘Wait… YOU KISSED HER? OH MY GOD!”

‘Jenny I told you to not to freak out’ you balance the phone in your hand holding it up to show your frowning face while Jenny is totally freaking out, her face moving in and out of the frame as she frantically waves her arms around screaming.

‘Jenny! Please! Just help me. What do I even say?’

Jenny hears your pleading tone and calms down a little, but she struggles to hide her ardor as her smile beams brightly at you. ‘Okay fine but I want the details about the kiss once I’m done helping you’

You exasperatingly roll your eyes as you reluctantly agree to give Jenny the full details of your kiss and you eagerly await for her advice.

‘Why don’t you just ask her for the truth?’

You throw your hands up in the air, ‘gee, why didn’t I think of that, come on Jenny be serious’

‘I am okay? Just listen’ her voice is unusually commanding as she settles down on her bed and looks at you dead in the eye as she continues,’ look, judging by everything you’ve told me, I really think you should just be straight up with Sam. She seems like she’s a straight to the point no BS kinda girl, and you’re never gonna get the answers you want if you play it carefully. Don’t beat around the bush, just deadass ask her, are you engaged and see what she says’

As you contemplate Jenny’s words you realise that she does have a point, honestly is the best policy after all. After indulging in Jenny’s pleas and giving a full detailed report on the kiss as well as some casual small talk, you relax in the living room with the tv on, your thoughts drifting to the inevitable conversation you will have with Sam once she gets home and you mentally prepare yourself for any outcome, though you’re hoping that it ends with a happy ending for you. You suddenly hear the elevator doors ding and Mickey and Mason’s voices echo throughout the apartment.

You look up to see two very sweaty boys running towards the bathroom and as you get up to go to the kitchen, Sam creeps up behind the counter, her soft voice startling you. Your mind flashes back to the night before, recalling that same tone, how low and husky her voice was, as she spoke about how much she wanted you, how she couldn’t stand to be so close to you without feeling like an animal. Now as you stand within the same vicinity, the energy is different, like everything has changed.

Sam raises her eyebrows a little, and you shake out of your reverie, and give Sam a small smile, ‘hey Sam can we uh’ you’re cut off as Mason and Mickey enter the kitchen and run towards the pizza boxes on the counter.

‘Hey Josie guess what? Mason jumps excitedly in his spot and you give him a huge smile, ‘what?’

‘Mickey and I went to the park today and I totally beat him in tag’

‘No you didn’t, I told you you only tagged me because my shoe laces came off’

The boys continue to squabble as Sam briskly claps her hands together, ‘Come on boys enough, you were at least too fast for me huh? I think you guys cheated a little when I was it’

‘No way!! You’re just too slow mom’, Sam ruffles Mickey’s hair and they all settle on the stools getting ready to eat.

‘Josie we weren’t sure what you like so we got you a pepperoni pizza’

You gratefully take the box from Sam, your fingers brushing together slightly and you feel electricity coursing through your body. You’ve barely touched Sam but you feel the heat rising to your cheeks and judging by Sam’s clenching jaw, you know you’re not the only one who feels it.

After eating and engaging in some enlightening conversation with the boys about the newest game craze, you stay behind to clean up while Sam gets the boys ready for bed.

You ball up your hands, knuckles turning white as you try to remember Jenny’s advice to ask for the truth, no matter how devastating the answer may be. You’re pulled out of your thoughts as Sam ambles into the kitchen, her expression looking bleak as she clears her throat.

‘Sorry, I just wanted some water before I head to bed’ she moves towards the sink, her back to you but you mentally steel yourself before blurting out, ‘can we talk?’

Sam freezes in place, you can’t see her face, but you can only imagine the tormented look on her face as she bows her head slightly down and speaks out, ‘if it’s about the boys taking the subway, it’s fine Josie, just don’t do it again’.

You can’t help but feel a little bit hurt but angry as she attempts to dismiss what happened last night so you walk towards her and grab her wrist to spin her around. The contact of your hand touching her thrills you, so you quickly let go of her arm and take an abrupt step back trying to control your heartbeat as it thumps in your ears.

‘That’s not what I meant and you know it Sam, please I just need to know’

Sam’s face looks conflicted as her brows furrow and her lips are curled down but she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath and stares directly into your eyes, her face looks emotionless, her eyes blank. ‘What did you want to know?’ her voice is devastatingly monotone but her jaw flinches a little indicating that she might already know what you’re about to ask.

‘Are the rumours true? About you and Sofia being engaged?’ You bite the inside of your cheek as you anticipate Sam’s answer.

Sam looks dumbfounded, her expression crestfallen as she struggles to answer your question.

‘Come on Sam, I deserve an answer, are you or are you not engaged it’s not a difficult question’

‘Yes’

‘Yes?’ No matter how much mental preparation you took beforehand, the familiar anguish you once felt when you found out about Sam’s engagement returns and your stomach begins to flip as you try to control your emotions, grappling to keep a stoic expression so Sam doesn’t see how much her answer hurts you.

‘It’s not like that Josie, okay? It’s complicated, last night i-’

You slice your hand through the air cutting her off, anger quickly filling up inside of you, ‘you’re engaged Sam, that’s it. I know I crossed a line when I kissed you but you should’ve stopped me’

‘I couldn’t’ her voice cracking as she shakily breathes in and out, ‘Josie there’s so much you don’t know’ she reaches out to you but stops, her hands hover near yours but she pulls back at the last second.

‘Sam, I can’t. I really need this job and I don’t want one stupid mistake to ruin that’

‘So it was a mistake to you?’

You ignore the dulling ache of your heart as you swallow and answer, ‘yes, it was unprofessional and won’t happen again’

You swear that Sam’s face completely falls for a second before the weight of your words settle and her face returns to that same emotionless one, ‘I agree. I apologize Josie, I should’ve never indulged in it. I just hope we can move forward from this since you seem to be the perfect fit for the boys’

You nod, unable to find the words as your heart only hurts more, and with that you turn and retreat back to your room. As you lay on your bed you wonder if staying is the right decision, but you know that you need this job and your mind can’t help but wonder what did Sam mean by it being complicated.

#playchoices #the nanny affair #sam x mc #sam dalton

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felicismagic18873 · 4 years

Text

The Green-Eyed Monster

Summary:Jealousy isn’t something Adrien is unfamiliar with, but he doesn't have any reason to be jealous now, he really doesn’t. Marinette is just his friend and it's not like he doesn’t know how friendly she is with everyone.

Even if Marinette has been spending a lot of time with a new boy; a boy none of them knows about who steals her away every day after school.

Adrien is not jealous. He is just…..worried.Yep, definitely not jealous at all.

The first time Adrien saw the guy was after a particularly grueling day at school: He had been tired all day because of an Akuma fight the night before, Nino was out sick, they had a surprise chemistry test and add to that the fact that he knew he wouldn’t get any rest since he had a photoshoot after school made it an awful day.

The only person that seemed to be having a worse day than him was Marinette but the thing is, Marinette seemed to be having a lot of those nowadays.

His bubbly friend, who usually brightened up the room with her presence alone, came to school with tired eyes and a smile that seemed a touch too practiced to be real. Her eyes usually tinged red, as if she hadn’t had proper sleep or had cried recently, looked away from his whenever he caught them and it worried Adrien.

He talked to Alya about it but she just assured him, with knowing eyes looking at him, that he needs to give it some time, that Marinette would be fine soon. So he did.

He still made sure to smile at her whenever he did manage to catch her eye since it seemed to make at least some sort of difference.

Anyways back to the guy, the first time Adrien saw him, he didn’t actually get to see him. All he saw was Marinette rushing past him to run into his arms; the guy then Marinette’s bag over his shoulder and they both walked away together.

“Do you know that guy?” Alya asked from beside him sounding a bit bewildered.

Adrien looked at where the couple disappeared around the corner of a street, “No idea.”

The next day was Saturday and they had planned to meet up at Alya’s place. Marinette canceled the plan to meet up at Alya’s, promised to make up for it, and told them she had someone she wanted them to meet.

On Monday, Adrien saw Marinette smile wide for the first time in ages as she ran down the stairs to meet the well-dressed boy waiting for them at the school entrance.

Something tightened in Adrien’s chest as he looked on, wondering why he wanted to pull her away from the boy. Probably because Adrien didn’t know him that well, he reasoned to himself, though that didn’t mean Marinette didn’t, rather it seemed like Marinette knew him very well since she was more at ease with him than she was ever around Adrien.

“Ooo, Mystery boy,” Alya grinned and grabbed Adrien’s arm pulling him with her as she strode towards the duo.

“Hey!” Alya called out, holding up a hand as they approached.

“Hello,” Adrien said in a bit lower tone as he pulled his arm away from Alya.

Marinette turned towards them at the sound and smiled, her eyes bright and happy.

The boy turned too, his hair fluttering across his forehead as he shifted his eyes from Marinette to Adrien and Alya, “Hey, You must be Alya and Adrien,” He smiled,” Marinette’s told me about you,” He shook Alya’s hand before holding out a hand that Adrien instinctively shook.

“I am Micheal, but my friends call me Mike or Mikey if it is Marinette,” With that, Mike waggled his eyebrows making Marinette roll her eyes fondly. The feeling inside his chest grew.

“Well, It's good to finally officially meet the guy who's been stealing the fourth member of our group”

Adrien said, mustering up a smile as he teased half-heartedly.

“Are you from around here?” Alya’s eyes inspected the newcomer as she asked and Adrien could almost imagine the cogs turning in her head as she tried to remember if they had met before.

“Nah,” Mike ran his fingers through his hair, “Just visiting family,” He then turned to Marinette,” Though I might consider staying if someone asks,”

Marinette made a face at him which just made Mike’s smile widen.

“You guys seem close,” Alya observed with a teasing smile.

“Oh, Marinette and I go way back,” The boy-Mike- waved a hand flippantly, “I visit her every year but I just couldn’t convince Mom to let me out of her sight ever since I got into a small accident,” He rolled his eyes.

“An accident that broke both your arm and a leg,” Marinette reminded him, looking unimpressed even as a hint of a smile played at her lips.

Mike threw his arm around Marinette’s shoulder pulling her into a side hug, “What's life without a little risk, Mia Netta. Which reminds me, shall we get going?”

“Get going?” Alya asked with furrowed eyebrows,” Go where?”

Adrien couldn’t keep his eyes off the arm still resting on Marinette’s shoulder, the hand playing with a ponytail as Mike hummed under his breath. He wondered if Marinette had any plans to push off the arm before he shook his head, it was Marinette’s shoulder, if she was okay with Mike putting an arm around her then he should be too.

“I promised I’d help Mike with his cooking experiment today,” Marinette told Alya, her eyes not meeting the reporters. He had a feeling he was missing something, though he couldn’t put a finger on it. He looked between the girls sensing an unspoken tension.

“But,” Alya began,” We’re supposed to have a girls night at Lila’s today.”

Right. That.

Marinette predictively looked uncomfortable at the name of the girl who had recently gotten her expelled, and if Adrien was correct, who hadn’t even apologized for it.

“I am sorry, Al, Maybe some other day? I made the plan with Mike long before the girls night thing came up, I did try to tell you in class,”

Alya took a deep breath, then sighed, “You did, didn’t you. Sorry, it's just that...after everything that's been going on, I was looking forward to it.”

“We can hang out tomorrow if you want?” Marinette offered quietly.

“But then Lila wouldn’t be able to come, you heard what she said about the charity meeting.”

Both friends looked at each other silently, at this point the new kid decided to jump on.

“So you can all hang out with the Lela girl today and with Marinette tomorrow,” Mike shrugged, putting his free hand in his pocket,” sounds like a good plan to me.”

Marinette looked up gratefully at Mike and Adrien kicked himself for not jumping in sooner. He could’ve diffused the tension if he wanted to but he was so used to letting the girls sort it all out between himself that he didn’t think to do anything. He mulled the thought over while he said goodbye to the girls and jumped into his car, he could see Marinette and Mike walk into the bakery as his car drove by.

He wondered if now that they had met Mike, Marinette would ask him to join their outings instead of running off with him; That would be a lot better, and maybe it would soothe the uneasy feeling he had whenever he saw her with him.

But that didn’t happen.

Every day, without a delay, Mike would be waiting for Marinette by the school stairway, they’d meet with happy smiles on their faces and go off to do something and there was something new every since day. Whether it was sightseeing or trying to find the best milkshake in Paris (that one was Mike's idea) and a point came where the only time Adrien saw Marinette was during class and even then it was hard to talk to her.

Xxxx

“Marinette, do you want to come to my photoshoot later on? I know you were curious about the line,”

Marinette looked excited before her eyes met his own and something changed, she looked away, her shoulders slumping, “Em, I promised Mike I’d take him to the museum today. He wanted to see the superhero display, maybe some other time, A-Adrien”

Xxxx

“We’re meeting at Nino’s today for games, would you like to go together?”

“I...I’ll meet you there, Adrien. Is it okay if Mickey comes?”

Xxxx

“Mari-”

She rushed past him before he could say anything.

Xxxx

“Hey, Marinette!” He said, managing to catch her just before she left class, “ You know I had my fencing tournament yesterday?”

A small smile,” Yeah, I did. Congratulations, Adrien. “

“Kagami was runner up. We’re going for celebratory juice, can you come?”

“Can’t I! I mean, I can’t. Em...I have this thing to do later on, yeah, a thing to do….though I can bring cupcakes tomorrow to celebrate?”, she left without waiting for an answer.

“Thanks...Marinette.” He sighed, trying to ignore the inexplicable weight that seemed to have dropped in his stomach.

Xxxx

A part of him wanted to hate Micheal but that was difficult because Micheal was a difficult person to hate. Whenever they did get time to hang out with him-when he wasn’t stealing Marinette away-he was always nice to them.

He always met them with a big stupid smile, his stupid grey eyes shining as he told a stupid joke or quip that made everyone laugh or at least smile. Another part of him knew they could be really good friends if he just tried but that part was hastily suppressed. The same part couldn’t help but point out how happy Marinette looked with Micheal as he saw them chatting in front of the school.

For once, the duo hadn’t left as soon as the bell rang and were actually standing a bit to the side, conversing.

Adrien couldn’t stop watching them as they talked, Marinette was waving her hands through the air, a clear sign of her excitement, as she talked avidly. There was no stutter, no nervous glancing, just Marinette, with her pink cheeks and beaming smile talking to this-this stranger that none of them knew about before this month, this horrible, Marinette-less month.

A pang of pain went through his chest as he wondered if this was how things were going to be from now on.

Just then Marinette’s eyes met his own and her eyes widened a bit before she let out a shaky smile, holding up a hand to greet him, “Hey Adrien,”

“Marinette,”He gave the girl a smile as he came to stand near them, before turning to Micheal, “Hello Michael,”

“Hi, Adrien, ” Micheal gave a lazy wave before excitement shone on his face again, “Marinette and I were talking about this crazy antique shop that opened a few streets away, you wanna come with?”

“Oh,” Adrien put his hands in his pockets, “ I’d love to but I have fencing today, I was actually waiting for Kagami so we could go in together.”

He heard Marinette intake a sharp breath but before he could say anything Marinette moved quickly, stepping beside Mike as she linked her arm with Tonys, “It's fine! No problem, we, em, Mike and I can go by ourselves, You’ll probably think it's lame anyways, Lamer than lame,” She gave a strained smile so much in contrast to the bright smile she had before.

“What? Of Course not, Marinette. I don’t think it's lame. I don’t think anything you do is lame,” He said, his sincerity clear in his voice, trying to clear any misunderstanding that might be there, he wondered if that's why Marinette had been avoiding him. He noticed Micheal looking at him with a contemplative look but focused his eyes on Marinette instead whose lips were parted in surprise.

“Em, thanks Adrien,” A soft smile was directed at his way that Adrien returned.

Micheal cleared his throat before holding up his watch,” We should get going if we want to be back before your shift starts, Stellina.”

“Yeah and There comes Kagami’s car,” Marinette’s eyes glanced at something behind him,” I’ll see you tomorrow Adrien,” and with that she walked away with Micheal, her arm linked with his as they put their heads closer together to talk, something stirred in his chest even as Kagami came up to greet him and pulled him into a conversation as they walked with him back into the school.

Xxxx

He was convinced he was making a big deal about nothing. It's not like Marinette wasn’t allowed to have other friends; It shouldn’t-It didn’t bother him.

Then came his photoshoot.

His photoshoot at Trocadéro had just ended when he saw the two passing by. They were teasingly bumping their shoulders together as they walked,smiles on their faces, Adrien opened his mouth to call out to them maybe ask to join them and then...then Marinette pulled Micheal down and pressed a long exaggerated kiss on the boy’s cheek; Her name died on Adrien's lips as he looked away hastily, his fists clenching at his sides as a memory of another kiss arose in his mind, a kiss Marinette had placed on his cheek on her birthday, her eyes bright as she held his charm close to her chest.

By the time he looked back, they were gone.

That night, he finally gave in to the urge that had been plaguing him for days. He fed Plagg a week worth of Camembert as a bribe and took to the skies, his destination: Marinette’s balcony.

His relationship with Marinette as Chat Noir had built up increasingly after the ‘incident’ with the miracle queen. After all, She was the only miraculous holder other than him and Ladybug whose identity had not been revealed, even if that only happened because she was no longer a holder and didn’t consider herself one.

Plus, hanging out with Marinette always managed to make him feel better. She was like sunshine at the end of a dreadful thunderstorm: Warm and welcoming.

But Today his mission was simple: Talk to her about Micheal and maybe find out why she was avoiding Adrien. He didn’t know how to do that or what he expected to find out but a half-cooked plan was better than brooding in his room with no plan at all. Chat found her sitting on her chair and swiping through her phone as he landed on her balcony.

Marinette looked up in shock before a warm smile overtook her face, “Hello, Chat Noir.”

“Princess,” He bowed then approached her, “What are you doing outside on this...not-so-fine night?” He asked, looking at the dark clouds spread across the sky.

“Just enjoying the fresh air,” She shrugged, tucking her legs close to her chest.

“Uh-huh,” He made it clear he didn’t believe her, he dragged a chair near her and sat backward on it, resting his chin on its top as he stared at her, "Come on, Princess, what's the actual reason?" He prodded gently.

She looked at him for a second before looking down at her phone, “Chat,” She began, “ do you...do you sometimes feel like getting away from everything for a while?” She whispered as if it were a secret.

Chat tilted his head, “Getting away? Like for a trip or something?”

“No,” Marinette shook her head, “just...leave.” She looked down at the phone, a picture filling its screen-a picture of her and Mike.

Panic began to set in as Chat realized what she meant, “Leave? To go where?” He asked, trying not to sound as horrified as he felt.

Marinette shrugged,” Anywhere….maybe Italy,”

“With him,” He pointed an accusing finger at her phone, his eyes boring holes in the picture as he felt the crazy urge to just cataclysm it.

“Maybe, He does ask me every year.” She sighed, putting down the phone, “ My parents would let me, Mickey would probably convince them. He’s smart like that; And, It’ll be kind of fun spending all that time together.”

Chat tried not to show how each word felt like a stab through his heart. Marinette must have noticed it anyways because her eyes softened, she put the phone on the side and stood up standing near him.

“Don’t worry kitty, “ She smiled running a hand through his hair, “I am not going anywhere, promise.” she played with the shorter hair at the back of his neck, “I have more to lose than to gain by leaving but still, one can dream”

She then pulled him down to her room to play a few rounds of video games and though it helped distract him, Adrien couldn’t completely bring his mind away from it.

And as he laid in his bed at night, that thought of Marinette leaving with Micheal burst into his head like a wrecking ball. He just couldn’t get it out of his head.

He could almost imagine it playing right in front of him, Marinette deciding to do with him and if they did, they’d probably spend more time together than they already did and they’d get married in Italy and Tom would make a big wedding cake and Marinette would look so beautiful in her wedding dress but Adrien wouldn’t know because he wouldn’t have accepted the wedding invitation and Marinette would kiss Micheal’s cheek, and hug him and make him cookies and love him.

She’d be in love with Micheal, completely and utterly.

The last thought hurt the most.

Xxxx

The class party was both a relief and torture. A relief because after days of extensive testing it was good to have an off day and torture because Marinette, looking breathtakingly beautiful in a black and white striped top and a tulle skirt, came with Micheal and was now dancing with him.

Marinette’s pink tulle skirt flowed around her as Micheal spun her, her eyes squinting as she laughed merrily. They were dancing sillily, Micheal kept spinning and dipping her, he was pretty sure they kept stepping on each other's foot on purpose, all the while their smiles never slipped off and Adrien, Adrien wished more than nothing for that be him.

“You okay dude?” Nino asked from his side, Adrien looked away from the couple to turn towards his friend instead. Concern flashed in his friend's eyes before he took one look at what Adrien had been looking at and understanding replaced the concern, “Come on, let's get you something to eat.”

Nino guided him away from his spot and towards the snack table and while Adrien knew what Nino was trying to do (distract him from Marinette), he let him do it because he didn’t know how much longer he could take watching them.

“Took you long enough, “Nino said as he picked up a pastry to munch on.

Adrien furrowed his eyebrows, “What?”

“Marinette?” Nino said as if that explained everything but seeing the perplexed look on his friend’s face he elaborated, “You finally realize she isn’t ‘Just a Friend’, didn’t you? Don’t deny it, bro, I could see your eyes throwing daggers at Mike from a mile away.”

Adrien chose to ignore the remark and made a conscious effort not to look at the dance floor.

“So apparently, new-boy over there’s been trying to get Marinette to go to Italy with him,” Alya told them, shaking her head as she came to stand next to them and picked up a cupcake to bite into.

“How do you know that?” Nino asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I heard em,” Alya stated after swallowing her bit,”He was saying to Marinette that he was leaving on Sunday and, get this, he said he was sure she’d come with this time,” Alya rolled her eyes as if it was the most preposterous thought.

Wait, what?

Adrien's world tilted. Everything seemed askew all of a sudden as his eyes snapped to the duo in the middle of the room. “But Marinette said no, right?” he asked, a little too evenly.

“She didn’t say no, but she didn’t say yes either.” Alya shrugged, “Not like him saying it is going to make it true, there’s no way her parents would agree to it.“

But Adrien couldn’t hear Alya over the thumping of his heart in his ears.

All he could remember were Marinette’s words from that night,

“ Do you sometimes feel like getting away from everything..just leave?”

“My parents would let me, Mickey would probably convince them…”

Adrien stared in dumbstruck silence, just shaking his head in denial, clearly, he was overthinking this. There was no way Marinette was leaving, she said so herself! Why would she go with him? Well, she did say that she wanted to go and she had been avoiding Adrien for weeks for some reason, and she did seem happier with him than he had seen for a long time but-but-

Marinette couldn’t leave.

He didn’t even think before striding across the room to reach Marinette. She was giggling and clapping as Mike danced by himself, her cheeks a beautiful pink.

“Marinette,” He said her name as he came to stand near her, her eyes snapped to his as the blush deepened.

“Adrien,” His name sounded so beautiful on her lips, he wondered why he hadn’t noticed that before.

Mike had noticed him too but before he could say anything Adrien reached forward and gently grabbed Marinette’s hand with his, “I am sorry for cutting in but can I talk to Marinette? Like, right now? Thanks,”

Without waiting for a reply he tugged Marinette behind her as he guided her away from the party, his hand entangled with hers even as the anxiety gripped him.

“Wait wait, what's going on? Adrien?” Marinette asked as they reached a relatively secluded area.

“You can’t leave, Marinette.” He blurted out, not being able to contain himself anymore, he stepped closer putting his hands on her shoulders, ”Please, even if you do want to leave and even if you do like Italy and wedding cakes, don’t leave. You have friends here, I am here.”

His panic must have shown in his voice because Marinette’s eyebrows scrunched together as concern mixed with confusion flashed across her face.

“What? Wedding cakes? Where’s all this coming from?” She put a hand on his forehead,” Are you feeling okay, Adrien.”

He removed her hand from his forehead and clutched it close to his chest pulling her close, his eyes pleading her as desperation filled them, “Look if you’re angry because of something I did, just tell me. I’ll fix it, I promise, don’t just leave.”

“Adrien,” She put her other hand on his cheek,” who said anything about me wanting to leave?”

Adrien stepped back running a hand through his hair agitated, “You did,”

“No I didn’t, “ She shook her head, “Not to you or any of our friends, I just told….Chat,” Her eyes widened as she looked up at him, her eyes taking in his face like she was seeing him for the first time.

“Kitty?” She whispered under her breath but he was too lost in his own head to pay attention to the world-changing revelation she’d had.

He walked closer to her and grabbed both of her hands in his, “Marinette,“ He gulped,” I don’t know what's been going on but I hate this distance we’ve created and I hate that everything that I try just pushes you further back, I hate not having you around and I know it might be too late and I know that you have Mike-”

“Mike?” Marinette said confused but Adrien went on.

“But if I haven’t messed things up too bad. Please just give me a chance?” His eyes pleaded, Adrien realized that there was nothing he wanted more than for her to say yes.

“That's why you’ve been so upset? Because of Mike?” She sounded shocked.

“Because I lo-I like you Marinette, a whole lot and I….it wasn’t until he came that I realized that and I-”

Marinette interrupted him with a kiss, Adrien made a startled noise as her lips met his. Her soft lips moved against his and Adrien closed his eyes melting into the kiss.

It felt as perfect as a kiss could be.

Warm and beautiful and right.

Adrien almost raised up a hand to tangle in her hair and deepen the kiss then he realized something that made him pull away even if it was the last thing he wanted to do

“Wait, what about Mike?”, his question came out all breathless as he looked down at Marinette.

”Oh you silly kitten,” Marinette moved in closer and looped an arm around his neck, Adrien put his hands on her waist,” Micheal Dupain is my cousin.” She ended with laughter in her voice.

“Oh,” Adrien’s eyebrows furrowed before the words sank in and his eyes went wide, “Oh,” He whispered again, his cheeks heating up as humiliation took hold.

“Yes, oh ” Marinette repeated with a small giggle, then she rubbed their noses together “and he’s been spending all this time with me because he knew I was having a hard time dealing with Lila and getting over my crush for this stupidly sweet boy,”

“Your crush,”

“You,” She bopped his nose then pressed their lips together again in a sweet peck, she pulled away but stayed close enough that Adrien could feel her breath on his face, ” To think, all this time we’ve been running around circles.” Her finger ran through his hair at the back of his head as she played with them.

“Huh?” Adrien replied a bit dazed and Marinette looked proud before a sheepish smile took over her face.

“I guess you were right, after all, Chaton.” She admitted shyly, looking at him from under her eyelashes,” Your Lady ended up falling for you in the end,”

Adrien stilled, then he smiled and as he whispered, “ My lady, My Marinette” and pulled her into his arms, her body fitting perfectly with his and the world righted itself once again.

-Fin-

Green-eyed monster because Chat Noir/Adrien has green eyes and jealously *Nudge* *Nudge* Okay you get what I mean. I am not kidding what I say that I love reading Jealous! Adrien and I loved writing it just as much.

And before you ask it: Yes, Micheal knew exactly what he was doing. He could tell Adrien was a bit jealous and was hoping it will give him the push he needed. He made Marinette promise not to tell anyone he's her cousin and it wasn't until Adrien's miny break-down that Marinette understood why.

I imagine after they went back to the party, She pretended to be miffed at him first but she made sure to hug him extra hard later on for essentially getting her and Adrien together.

Support me here ( It will only take 5-6 mins of your time)

#mircaulous ladybug #Mirculous Fanfic #oneshot #adrinette #Jealous!Adrien #misunderstandings #fluff and angst #idiots in love #First kiss #identity reveal

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callme--starchild · 4 years

Text

Half of What You Think of Me

Donald felt this could be one of the most uncomfortable rides of his life as an adventurer. Curled up in the seat and wrapped in seat belts, his gaze wandered around the plane.

Della was piloting and chatting with Launchpad, who sat in the adjacent seat — since when had the two of them become so close? — while Scrooge stood between them, serving as the lookout that clearly both pilots were failing.

Goofy was more discreet in the seats across from him. The children were huddled around the dog, bright eyes filled with curiosity as he told them the story behind each photo in his wallet. He could actually perceive the way they waited for a photo that included him to know the memory — possibly shameful — that it possessed.

But if he knew his friend like the back of his wing, Donald knew that those images, as well as Mickey's, were in the oldest part of his cellphone gallery, far below many photos of Max. It was not something that particularly offended the duck, he understood very well what it was like to be gushing over the photos of their respective proteges.

(Feeling watched, Goofy looked up for a moment as the four ducklings admired the photos he had taken during the Powerline’s concert years ago, appreciating the soft gaze his old friend had on the children, the same loving gaze that not only seen when he looks at his.

If he hadn't known Donald since they were both younger, he wouldn't have hesitated to think of him as the biological father of the kids. He could be the uncle, it's true, but having triplets under his care for ten years was worthy of admiration, especially when counting and accepting without hesitation one more girl.)

"You are pretty quiet."

But a British accent snapped both parents out of their reverie, causing Donald to discover Goofy's gaze on him for a second before continuing to tell stories, this time about a prom.

"Oh hello Mrs. B." Donald greeted the housekeeper as she sat next to him, surreptitiously glancing at the four children. Needless to say, he did it in a very strange way by being with the belts around him. A sad smile decorated his face.

On the other hand, Beakley's expression remained neutral, with a glint in her gaze that Donald didn't quite know how to describe; preferring to focus again on the kids to perceive the way her features softened.

"You know they're not upset, right?"

Donald looked up; he hadn't noticed the moment when he lowered it and, ignoring the damp burning that was beginning to appear in his eyes, he looked back at the housekeeper. Despite the severity that was commonly woven into her face, the sailor managed to perceive the small, almost ghostly smile on her face.

It was almost hilarious that they initially got along as well as oil and water. And look at them now, bonding like a pair of confidants.

"If it was them, I would be," he confessed feeling himself shrink in his seat, his feathers clinging to the seat’s leather as if he might rip it apart.

Actually, he could; that is, he had faced greater threats for a fifth of his life, an airplane seat would be a piece of cake.

"After all, I took away from them a part of their life that currently makes them happy," and it was not the same to give it up on your own free will than to have it disappear like sand between your fingers, he knows. And it was better to think about that than the anger that tickled through his veins, all against himself “just because I was looking for an idealization of normality worthy of a sitcom .”

Involuntarily, Donald grunted the last word. Even if it had been fun to feel on a TV show, he knew that sooner or later his trick would end up being discovered because those kids were smarter than he liked; he also did not feel happy to lie to his family — and to know that it was not the only lie he has made, the house of cards that he created with so much effort would collapse. Maybe it was better to keep the low budget and the recorded laughs on a show.

Even if he kept thinking about the life he left behind, it didn't mean that they were calm leaving theirs because what he was doing was more dangerous and it was certainly hypocritical and—

“Even if the method you used was unorthodox, I can see why you used it." Beakley's voice was the light that Donald's darkness needed, and he clung to it like a lifeline. "You love your family and you just want to see them safe and sound. I can say that I share the sentiment.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the gleam of amazement in Webby's eyes, leaning her elbows on an armrest as she listened to Goofy. He had never bothered to get to know the housekeeper better even if he lived on the pool at her house, and the fact that this was their longest talk planted something in his heart.

"And even if that fantasy were possible, I think we both know that they would not be happy with it” yes, leave the fantastic situations to cartoons and other kinds of programs for children to see “and it's incredible that I say this, but it seems like Scrooge knows what he does to keep them protected.”

There was a hint of disbelief in her voice, and the sailor stifled his laughter. To tell the truth, even he was surprised; in the adventures he engages in, he has not seen any of his nephews being pushed into a portal, shrunken, or into a block of magical ice.

It didn't hurt as much as it seemed.

“You're right.”

"Of course, I’m always right," and they both laughed, like a couple of old friends who haven't seen each other in years.

How things changed in just a few months.

"By the way," of course, they couldn't stay on the same topic of conversation, Donald himself didn't feel so comfortable talking about him, "what did you ask the genius for?"

"Oh," a smile crept in, and the duck wondered if the spy had noticed the instant his feathers turned scarlet, "I just asked for a small, big detail. You will see it arriving at the mansion.”

And oh, Donald won't be able to forget the happiness on Beakley's face at the sight of the family photograph. The photograph that included her.

One more lie.

The young duck's footsteps echoed across the silent 151st floor, one hand on his chin as he narrowed his eyes in a thoughtful and distant expression.

"Sooner or later, you'll make a mark on the ground, Old Cape," being pulled out of his thoughts by a small orb that appeared beside him, his reverberated voice playing with the superhero's nerves in an almost impossible way, "you've been like this since you returned from your mission in the 21st century, do you want to talk?”

But Uno was so worried, so nervous that Donald forgot that he was not a biological being but a machine. A machine that acted, thought, and spoke in such a human way that it burned, that Donald wonders at what moment hearing that voice had become the most important part of his day-to-day life, prompting him to keep putting on his kevlar suit to go out on a new adventure from which he does not know if he will be able to return alive.

When had he been so lucky to meet Uno that the mere thought of something happening to him in the 21st century terrified him?

"I saw myself there," he murmured after a few seconds of silence, listening to the buzz of a chair appearing behind him and feeling a pair of hands supporting his shoulders with such care that it made him uneasy, sighing heavily as he removed his mask and his fingers fiddled with the texture, "apparently I'll be a secret agent in the future."

"Sorry to interrupt you PK, but…" Sure, Uno was concerned. He had foreseen temporal paradoxes before leaving with Lyla.

"It's all I know, he— I didn't agree to tell more. You know, the current of space-time and all that paraphernalia” but his voice gave away his anguish, and a dull sound gave away the way he let his back hit the back of the chair “but…”

But. There was always a but.

"The Ducklair Tower wasn't there." No, his voice hadn't cracked, and Donald fought the urge to rip the hood with the voice modulator off because it was the only thing that kept his identity secret when he's Paperinik.

Silently, Uno made his companion's sailor suit appear, letting another buzz roar in the newly silent secret floor.

"Something is going to happen, Uno, something is going to happen to you and I don't know what it is." He squeezed his hands, applying so much force that his trembling knuckles paled more.

"It's probably not that bad, Hero." But even if Uno was an AI, he managed to hear the uncertainty in his own modulated voice. Odin Eidolon peered into the recess of his database.

Donald dropped the mask onto his lap, slowly rubbing his temples. He looked exasperated, he felt terrified.

Paperinik had never been terrified, but under that mask, he was still Donald Duck, and Donald Duck had to act on his fear more than once if he wanted to continue his life.

"He said he missed you," and maybe that's what dismayed the superhero since his return to the 20th century, staring at the ceiling and feeling smaller than usual.

He knew that the seconds were scarce before they found themselves back home, the skyscraper that was the Ducklair Tower would cease to be a non-existent point to remain the base of Channel 00 as well as the defender of the city’s; but even so… he— Donald from the future— Double Duck had used them to dedicate a few words to the artificial intelligence, even if he had been very specific in that he would not shut up facts.

Perhaps that was what kept Donald uncertain, not Paperinik, and it is that the very idea that something was happening with Uno unsettles him.

For the first time, Uno does not know what to say to lift the spirits of his partner, not even a one-liner. But it was impossible, the artificial intelligences did not waver, not even one as advanced as he — modesty aside. That did little to reassure Donald.

It could be the first time that something had alerted both the hero and the civilian.

"Do you really think something will happen, PK?" The AI questioned empathetically as a pair of hands helped the superhero remove his suit. His system did not allow him to believe, Uno was logical; and while the Pangea project proved that even he could be wrong, it was further proof of the influence that the biological duck has had on him.

But Uno didn't believe, he knew something had to happen for Odin to emerge, especially considering Donald couldn't connect the dots and figure out what took him a few minutes.

"I don't know," Donald growled, pulling on his sailor shirt with the help of Uno's arms — changing in front of the AI was already absolutely normal for Donald after months of doing it, often too hasty to even notice.

Still, that only demonstrated the confidence both partners had. So why did Uno feel he was lying to the sailor by hiding the truth about the billionaire businessman of the XXIII century? Why couldn't he tell him that he would never leave him alone — or how impossible it would be to get rid of him, even though clearly neither of them wanted that?

Why did the thought of losing Uno, and not by aging, terrify Donald so much?

That conversation felt very distant to the retired hero. But now that he was aware of the reason for his doubts, he wanted nothing more than to have a hint of tachyon that would allow him to travel to the moment when Uno was deactivated to avoid it.

And maybe hit Everett, who knows. He would literally have all the time in the world at his complete disposal.

But Uno was there, face to face. And Donald couldn't believe it, he barely could do it, but the last thing he wanted was to blink and have the intelligence— android in front of him disappear into thin air.

"H-How?" He whispered, feeling his voice harsher than usual. He was supposed to go to the abandoned Ducklair Tower to see the result of his wish. Instead, a robot perfectly built to match the appearance of an ordinary mallard stood in the middle of his door.

At this, Uno laughed. Donald didn't know how to feel; his voice did not have those reverberations that made it robotic, but one that could be heard in any duck that no one could suspect, the absence of walls causing no echoes that were familiar to the sailor to be heard.

It generated a strange feeling in his chest, but he didn't want it to fade away.

"The first piece of information that comes to my system is to be reactivated in the Tower "Uno confesses, and for some reason, he does not dare to say that among these are Donald's memories, those that he had managed to record and save in his database because well, those were personal “but this body had been in the planning for… a long time.”

His voice becomes distant as well as his gaze, and the sailor does not dare to inquire; the mere idea that his best friend had this project planned without him even knowing since before he was deactivated, left a knot in the pit of his stomach. And he prefers to focus on the lump that rested rather in his throat and left him shaking.

"It's still a bit unstable, but what else could I do? I've missed you, Old Cape…” And hearing that old nickname again felt like a lunge, and Donald couldn't help but laugh sadly as he felt moisture running down his cheeks and the edges of his beak, rushing into the android's arms before he could even prepare himself, backing out of reflex.

As Donald cradled his face against the opposite chest, concentrating on the hum that was so familiar and strange at the same time, Uno couldn't help but smile wistfully as his arms wrapped around the smaller duck's body. The AI was already aware of the size of his old companion, but now that he could see it directly, he looked much more fragile than he might have thought.

The plumage felt soft, and though he could perceive the knots and some messy feathers, the delicacy of those that grew again could not be missed. Uno was no stranger to the ducks’ molting, he had witnessed some from his partner back in the tower, but he had never realized how silky they could be.

Donald's sailor suit was now a gloomy black, had the occasional wrinkle, and exuded a faint stench of sea salt, sand, and dirt. He wasn't sure how he could identify the smells, but it must be his vast knowledge.

But the duck was trembling, sobbing in a shaky, broken voice. Or a voice more broken than usual. Not that he was critical.

"I missed you too," he confessed after a few seconds of silence, tentatively breaking the hug as he wiped his eyes. Only then could he notice that the eye bags had intensified, looking darker than he could remember “more than you think, old friend.”

And even though One couldn't age, he recognized the symbolism behind the Peking duck's words and was beyond grateful for it.

—

“So… this is the new Donald Duck?" His wing scanned one of the framed photographs on the boathouse’s stairs, and being able to feel was a feeling he didn't want to lose now.

And he was not able to stop smiling — not that he wanted to — when he appreciated the affectionate happiness on his partner's face when he kept the nephews he had heard so much about tucked in, detecting a newspaper that read blizzard in its headline.

It seemed like yesterday that Donald walked into the secret story, with a smile more radiant than he could remember, shouting from the rooftops that he would be an uncle. What he would give to go back to those times when everything was simpler and their only concern was facing Evronians and time pirates.

"It's true that a lot has changed since you left." Rubbing his arm in a nervous habit, Donald refused to leave his partner's side. Occasionally he could be heard sobbing bitterly, betraying that he had cried previously, "I would have been fascinated you were here, you would have experienced as much as I have."

However, the android had years of knowing the sailor to know that, despite the nuance that had colored his voice, no signals or double meanings were detected that directly blamed him. Donald was better than that, and they both knew it was neither their fault that he found himself disconnected and cut off from his side when he had no say in the matter.

But the would not exist. The damage had already been done and the wounds were already scarred, and with the presence of Uno Donald felt as if those scars were being treated despite being carved into his skin for ten years. It was as if the android was able to heal them almost automatically, and he was more than grateful for that little detail.

The bond between them was that strong.

"But I'm here now," he murmured, hugging his partner by the shoulder. And the sensation was so new that it was surprising to both of them, yet it didn't bother either of them, Uno's hand settling as if it had been made to be there — and maybe it was. After all, the body was built by Uno himself. “And I have no intention of leaving again…”

And it's not that the smallest duck wanted to, chuckling softly as he leaned his body against Uno's, an almost comical sight given the difference in height.

“I am glad to hear that.”

Uno's gaze continued to roam the photos, realizing that neither Scrooge nor Della was in them — except for a framed photo, prior to the hatching of his friend's nephews.

"He's Huey," Donald spoke suddenly, pointing to the red-clad triplet, and in an instant, the android had already registered that data, "he's Dewey, and he's Louie. Is more like their nicknames, but it is how they usually identify themselves.”

The intelligence said nothing, but he knew he didn't need words to show how grateful he was that he took the trouble to help him identify the triplets. It was easier and faster to search the system for them, but it was not as detailed as hearing it from his best friend and taking into account the way his voice softened when talking about them.

"And it seems that the family has grown," he added, pointing to the new family photo, seeing that in addition to Donald, the children, Scrooge and Della — who now had a leg made entirely of metal, were a girl and two ducks, the latter stout.

When the other duck followed his sight he made an affirming sound, gently taking his arm to lead him in front of the photo.

"Yes, she is my honorary niece Webby." He pointed to the duckling, and of course, Uno smirked. The hero had always had a soft spot for children, he could leave him one on his care and it wouldn't take him long to spoil them “and they are Launchpad and Mrs. B. She may look a bit strict, but she's nice; something tells me you two will get along very well.”

Of course, it hadn't taken long for his tone to turn to mock, and though the android didn't fully understand what he meant, he couldn't help but laugh with him. Like the old inside jokes they both used to have, and the fact that they will escalate now that they were together again filled him with satisfaction in an inexplicable way.

"In that case, I'm looking forward to meeting them, Old Cape."

#el's fanfiction #one more wish #ducktales #ducktales 2017 #paperinik #duck avenger #ducktales fanfiction #doubleduck #references to timecrime #alternate universe #ducktales au #donald duck #bentina beakley #uno #goofy #baby i'm back #sorry for the hiatus tho

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hecohansen31 · 4 years

Text

What The Queen Wants, The Queen Gets (Prologue)

Ivar The Boneless+Roman Godfrey+Axel Cluney+Mickey+Reader (Reverse Harem! AU).

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

So not to kinkshame somebody but me and @walkxthexmoon literally went like ‘threesome are too mainstream, we are just going to go on with an orgy’, but like a ‘classy orgy’ about a theme i have always been curious about which is reverse harem.

I honestly hope that this won’t seem disrespectful to anybody, but if it is just shoot me a DM or ask and I’ll say what I can do.

Also, as always, if you are interested to see more let me know, alongside which character(s) you want to see interact in the next chapters, in fact I will choose thank to yours comments, so let me know which character(s) you want to see and if you like this concept!

WARNINGS; Mention of Sex, Death, Blood, Fighting, War, Poly-Relationship, Reverse Harem.

You had never wanted the fighting, the conquering and the blood on your hands.

You had been a small girl, raised by an ambitious mother, under the shadow of a bastard brother, who you had loved with all your heart till at your sixteenth birthday your father’s death had completely destroyed your relationship

You remembered the guards’ faces when they had killed your mother in front of you, as her head had rolled at your feet and your blasphemous brother had taken the scepter for himself, ordering the sacred priest to put the crown on his head, as you choked on your tears.

Five years of civil war later, your kingdom was again yours, but the inner tumult had rendered it weak to the countries that stood in the confines of your reign, enough that when you had thought you could put down the sword stained with your brother’s blood, you had picked it up again, your hold on it strong and determined as you raised you chin high and fought.

Till your hands bleed and your conscience forgot the reason behind such a horrid act, hurting yourself the same way you did when you perceived your enemies’ breastplates, on the battlefield.

Peace is what you had always aimed to, conquering new countries had been a side effect of it.

You were now twenty-six and reigning over various country with no knowledge of what being a normal girl meant.

Finally, peaceful, if you excluded the continuous rebellions from the poorer and the way nobles rejected your position any chance they got.

That’s why you had instituted that for each kingdom you had conquered you would have somebody who you could trust, reigning it, somebody inside the country itself, bound to you by the most primal of things.

Sex.

If there ever was something that your bastard brother had taught you was that sex was wanted, among men and women alike, in different measures surely, but they were like drunk men under it: rebellious and yet, submissive once they gained what they wanted.

And it was a perfect idea for you to enjoy yourself, washing away the blood on your hands and the heaviness of a kingdom on your shoulder, as you let your many lovers take care of you.

Somebody might call you greedy or a whore.

You know that your advisors did, but when your enemies serviced you with their tongues and pricks you didn’t care in the slightest.

Your first man had been Roman of Hemlock Grove, a small cursed land more a hassle than a gain, but your first lover certainly had made it worthy.

He had come to you, in your tent, as the deals among your countries were being signed, seduced you to give him your virginity and he had taught you the reason behind the pleasurable arts of having a man inside you, as he brought you to your knees over and over again, and then proceeded to fix your crown the following day.

Smirking at you as he shared your secret.

Axel Cluney was a warrior on the battlefield and you had imagined immediately the way he would feel on you as he panted in your ear the dirtiest curses, before spilling himself in you.

He had been disappointed to discover that he wasn’t your first.

‘You just looked so positively innocent’.

‘Innocent? I was drenched in the blood of your soldiers, when you first saw me’

‘You know what I mean, little girl, but let me show you as a true man should fuck you’.

And he had kept his word, pushing himself into you in a slow rhythm, much different from Roman’s savage one, making you enjoy the atrocious torture of having him inside of you.

But what you enjoyed with Axel was the way he would be soft with you, listening to your blabber with no sharp words or teasing smirks, letting you lay down your many ideas as you spoke with him.

He didn’t understand many things, but he still caressed your hair and made you feel like the only woman that belonged in the world, in a romantic atmosphere that made you feel almost loved.

Hadn’t you known that Axel would gladly stick a knife in your chest, had you ever let him in.

Mickey would, instead, never ever dare to hurt you, you could literally put a knife in his hands and he would cry.

The smallest son of the reigning family of the country you had conquered had been strangely pliant to you from the start, which was nice, because he was completely at your orders, following them to extremes.

When you did nothing but follow the orders of hungry men to keep your country sated, it was nice to come home to somebody who would love nothing more than to spend his entire day between your thighs, soothing your worry with his soft cries and his needy whimpers, constantly asking for attention as a child.

And then there was the latest addiction: Ivar.

Ivar The Boneless had come to you, asking for help in defeating his brother and you couldn’t deny that you loved one man that took the initiative, and one that looked at you like him, with hate and shyness on his face.

You had always been distant and cold with him, since he had always seemed uneasy about your feminine features, you had tried your best to appear as more of a queen than a woman to him, but he hadn’t dismissed his barriers.

And you hadn’t felt less interested in the man.

But you were still painfully aware of the limit of your body.

But had done one last try, undressing in front of him as he came to you one night to sign the papers of your allegiance; you faked getting ready for bed as you moved into a sheer nightgown as you set yourself in front of him, his gaze having followed you, the entire time.

‘What is your plan?’ he asked as you set up on the table ‘… you already have my country, what more do you want?’.

‘The honor of laying with you’ you spoke slowly, pushing yourself closer to him, till your lips met his across the table ‘… I am simply smitten with you’.

‘I am a fucking cripple, queen’ he had shot back, but hadn’t backed off, as you had come around the table and sat on his lap.

‘I have never fucked a cripple, is it different?’ you had teased him, pushing him close to you as he had refused to look at you in the eyes, but his manhood spoke a different story ‘… because if there is one thing that I am curious about, it is fucking’.

He had pushed you onto the table and let you ride him till your nightgown was in shreds down your body and you were almost too sore, as you handed him the papers to sign his freedom over.

When he signed them that hateful glare in his blue eyes dimmed, but you knew the truth.

A cripple wasn’t different from any other man.

And he certainly didn’t feel different from any man who served you and fell in love with you.

Maybe everything in your life hadn’t been of your choice, but you certainly didn’t regret the men you had met on your journey.

#Ivar The Boneless #Roman Godfrey #Mickey #Axel Cluney #Ivar #Ivar The Boneless Reader #Ivar Reader #Roman Godfrey Reader #Mickey Reader #Axel Cluney Reader #Smut #Ivar The Boneless Fic #Roman Godfrey Fic #Mickey Fic #Axel Cluney Fic #Hemlock Grove #Vikings

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yesloverboy · 4 years

Text

Baby You’re a Haunted House (Iwan Rheon!Mick Mars x Reader)

Requested: Anon

“Hi! Could you do a Mick Mars one shot where Mick and the reader are really close friends and they’re watching a scary movie at his house and she’s scared so he lets her stay over. And she has trouble sleeping so she sneaks into his room and they both awkwardly admit they like each other?”

note: finally, after an arduous hiatus brought upon by school, I have a new little request to add to the library. I’m a little rusty so I hope it’s up to par. I don’t deserve your patience, but I’m glad y’all have stuck around. :’) (also if anyone wants to change their taglist preferences, lmk)

word count: 3,219

[no warnings! just two idiots in love!]

tags: @lauravic, @lululovesgwtw, @kingbouji3, @oldschoolimagineblog, @thecrue, @colsonbakersnoseringmain

To say you had a stressful week would be an understatement. Despite your best efforts to hold it together, things just seemed to go completely wrong of their own accord. You burnt your toast at breakfast, found an angry pink parking ticket on your windshield, and spent the entirety of your day working your fingers to the bone. It could have been your sour mood, or the melodramatic attitude you had developed since waking up that morning– but the day seemed completely and utterly cursed.

Even as you leave your shift, you can’t help but stare bitterly at the sun as it dips lazily into the horizon, wondering what exactly you did to make everything feel so shitty. It’s a Friday for Christ’s sake and it seems as though you hadn’t even gotten the opportunity to look forward to the weekend, let alone make plans.

Speaking of Fridays, you think, eyes flitting down to the watch dangling loosely from your wrist. The hands point toward 6:45, making it known that you are running incredibly and unbelievably late. Flustered, you sprint to your car, keys jingling noisily between your fingers. You should have left at least half an hour ago, but there had been so much going on at work that you lost track of time.

“Shit!” you exclaim, jamming your key into the ignition and speeding recklessly out of the parking lot. Tires screech against the asphalt as a cloud of dust erupts from behind you, settling only when you skid out onto the open road. The sky quickly shifts from honey orange to dusky purple as you retreat from the glittering lights of the city, instantly becoming more relaxed at the sight of sparse houses and distant mountains.

You and your best friend, Mick, have a Friday night tradition of staying in and watching movies while the rest of his friends– and bandmates –go out to wreak havoc on the remaining population of Los Angeles. Mick is similar to you in a lot of ways; you’re both the strong and silent type, usually only speaking when spoken and always responding with a biting comment. The two of you met in a record store off Sunset Boulevard, quickly bonding over your love for the emerging metal scene and your hatred for cheap glam rock. Nothing was ever smoke and mirrors with Mick– no, he was raw and honest. Something you admire far more than you’re willing to admit.

Fingers tightening around the steering wheel, you suppress the feeling of your heart twitching excitedly against your ribs. You aren’t sure what’s been up with you lately, but every time you’ve seen Mick these past few weeks your heart has begun to skip along to an unknown rhythm. This new sensation makes you grit your teeth in frustration. Mick is your best friend, you have no reason to feel anxious around him. Right?

Typically, when something abnormal is going on in your life, your first instinct is to tell Mick, but you already know this isn’t the kind of conversation you’re prepared to have with him. These days, it feels as though Mick is the only person you can really be yourself around and you can’t imagine jeopardizing your friendship for the sake of talking about your feelings, of all things.

With a heavy sigh, you pull into the sloping curve of Mick’s driveway, hoping the walk to his doorstep will be just enough time to get your head back on your shoulders. You rap on his door with a heavy hand, listening to the sound of crickets thrumming softly in the distance. It’s times like this where you find yourself thankful that Mick decided to move outside of the Los Angeles city limits. Sure, the drive is long and the daytime traffic could be excruciating, but there’s at least some semblance of stillness in the air.

Mick pulls open the door, greeting you with a soft smile and bright eyes. Rather than wondering what took you so long, he gives your disheveled appearance a once over and simply asks, “Long day?”

You nod, the fatigued slump in your shoulders only getting heavier as Mick motions for you to step inside. Abandoning your jacket and keys by the door, you flop onto Mick’s plush sofa with a content groan.

“Sorry I’m late,” you mumble, voice partially muffled by the pillow pressed firmly against your cheek. At this point, you had been over to Mick’s place so many times that it was slowly starting to feel like your own. You roll on your side, arms cradling the side of your head as you gaze upward with glassy eyes.

Mick just chuckles and lifts your legs so that he can sit underneath them, allowing your calves to rest comfortably in his lap. His fingers ghost the exposed skin of your ankle, making your breath hitch uncomfortably in your throat. The gesture is so familiar and yet, you can’t help but feel as though it were the first time. To your relief, Mick doesn’t seem to take note of your sudden uneasiness, and instead picks up a video tape from the glass coffee table in front of you.

“I rented A Nightmare on Elm Street,” Mick grins, “you seen it yet?”

You sit up, eyebrows knitted in concentration as you study the tape, unsurprised to see that it’s a horror movie. The cover art depicts a young girl staring entranced at a set of knife-like fingers as they hover menacingly above her head. The guys in Mick’s band often joked about him being some kind of ghoul or vampire, and his love for the spooky and supernatural really didn’t help his case.

“Another slasher, Mickey?” you tease, shoving at his shoulders playfully. Just last week the two of you spent the night watching My Bloody Valentine, all the while jeering and laughing at every ridiculous mistake that the characters made. At this point, it may as well be a Friday night tradition.

Mick rolls his eyes, “Come on, Y/N. It’s not just a regular, old slasher. This guy is supposed to come after you to haunt your dreams and shit.”

“What? You sick of me haunting yours?”

“Never,” Mick scoffs, flinging your legs to the side so he can get up and feed the tape into the VHS player. “Not if it’s you.”

For the umpteenth time that evening, your heart leaps.

...

As it turns out, Mick was right, it wasn’t just a silly slasher movie– it was a fucking terrifying slasher movie. By the time that the television screen faded to black and the credits began to roll, you hardly noticed the way your body had wrapped around itself in terror. Gripping the blanket across your lap, you jump as the dark living room becomes illuminated in pale, yellow light. You peer behind a wall of couch cushions to see Mick lurking by the lightswitch with a smirk dancing on his lips.

“Jesus, Y/N, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were scared,” Mick grins, his expression infuriatingly smug.

You feel your face grow hot as your heart hammers noisily in your chest, a mixture of embarrassment and frustration bubbling from within.

“I wasn’t scared,” you insist, “I was just–just, uh, startled is all. Long day, remember?” Gesturing to your blanket enshrouded form, you hope that the dark circles under your eyes are enough to persuade Mick to say he’s ready for bed and leave you be.

“Speaking of long days, it’s getting pretty late. Why don’t you just crash here for the night?” Mick points to the digital clock on his mantle, the bright red numbers flashing 1:32.

You nibble on your lip wordlessly, trying your best to ignore the feeling of butterfly wings tickling your stomach and climbing into your throat. Mick has a point, it is getting late. However, in all your time as friends, Mick had never once invited you to stay over. Would this change things? Could it change things?

“Um, Earth to Y/N?” Mick steps over to your place on the couch a waves an impatient hand in front of your face, making you jolt upright. “What’s the matter? Freddy got your tongue?”

“You little shit, I swear to God I am not scared–!” your tangent is interrupted as a clap of thunder rumbles from somewhere outside the window, the panes rattling and shaking in protest.

A dramatic yelp escapes your lips before you have time to rationalize what’s happening, making Mick double over in laughter. With trembling hands, you pull the blanket up over your head in an attempt to shroud your humiliation from Mick’s taunting eyes.

“F-fine, you win!” you relent, voice muffled beneath the quilted fabric.

Mick pulls the blanket away from your face, his dark blue eyes glittering with amusement. “Guess we’re having a slumber party after all.”

“If you wanted a sleepover, you could’ve just asked instead of scaring the fuck out of me. We could have braided each other’s hair by now,” you grumble bitterly.

“Better luck next time, I guess,” Mick flicks off the lightswitch with a devious grin, leaving you enveloped in darkness, “Sleep tight, and don’t let the interdimensional sleep demons bite…”

“Oh fuck off,” you squeak, uneasiness creeping on you as Mick leaves you alone in the blackness of his living room. Living closer to the city’s epicentre, you can’t even remember a time it was this dark in your apartment, let alone right outside the window.

Bundling yourself into a tight cocoon, you try to let the rare patter of California raindrops soothe you into unconsciousness. Just as the fuzziness of sleep starts to curl around your weary mind, another clap of thunder rattles through the walls of Mick’s house, your eyes snapping open in fright. You attempt to regulate your frantic breaths, chanting sweet nothings of normalcy and security to no one in particular. But, no matter what you do, nothing seems to unprickle the hairs standing rigidly on the back of your neck.

Rolling over, you decide to face the room in the hopes that your tired eyes will eventually adjust to the darkness. The shadows seem to squirm and shift as your spine tingles with paranoia, making you curse yourself for ever agreeing to stay in the first place. You groan internally when you realize that, in the time you’ve spent anxious on the sofa, you probably could have made it home by now.

Goddammit, Mick.

Ignoring the oppressive movement of the shadows, your eyes wander toward the hallway. The position you have on the couch gives you a direct view of where the curve of the hall snakes into the door of Mick’s bedroom. More than anything, you wish he had stayed out in the living room with you rather than retreating to the confines of his bedroom. It would have been completely unfair to ask that of Mick considering it’s his house, but you can’t help it. You hadn’t been this afraid of the dark since you were a kid and, as far as you knew, Mick wasn’t scared of anything.

The longer you lay scrunched up on the couch, the more tempted you are to just barge into Mick’s room and see whether or not he’s still awake. Minutes feel like hours as you debate the odds of Mick being mad–or worse, weirded out–at the sight of his best friend shaking him awake in the middle of the night. If Mick were having the same problem you probably wouldn’t be upset, right? Then again, there was a better chance of hell freezing over than Mick actually being afraid of the dark.

Deciding you can’t handle being alone a second longer, you swiftly untangle yourself from the comforting embrace of your blanket cocoon and place your bare feet on the cool, wooden floor. Shivering slightly, you hug your arms around your shoulders protectively and pad toward Mick’s bedroom, a nervous lump knotting in the back of your throat.

You approach the white door apprehensively, wondering for a brief moment if testing your friendship like this is even worth it. With a hefty sigh, you abandon all caution and pull the door open, a soft breeze rushing forward and tickling your face from the sudden movement. Heart thudding unceremoniously in your chest, you find yourself faced with the sight of your best friend sleeping soundly in a tangle of black velvet bedsheets.

Lying flat on his back with arms crossed securely over his chest, Mick slept like the dead, looking just as peaceful and twice as forbidden to disturb. A soft smile ghosts your lips at the sight of Mick looking so unwound and at rest. He was always a high-strung individual, that much is true, and watching him sleep so soundly made all your anxieties from earlier feel unbelievably not worth the effort. The realization that Mick’s face alone is enough to settle your nerves makes your heart hammer out a strangled pulse of adoration, twisting your stomach into a knot.

Inching away slowly, you decide that it’s probably for the best if you just saunter back to the couch and squash your feelings. Mick deserves a good night’s rest, not a lovesick best friend who is becoming blindsided by her feelings. Cursing your heart for being so fixated on the trivial human need for intimacy, you take a step back and immediately bump right into Mick’s dresser.

“Fuck,” you hiss as the dresser’s wooden frame trembles noisily against the floor.

To your horror, the man in front of you begins to stir. Raising balled fists to his eyes, he wipes away the sleep and glances over to the source of the sound in a haze of weary confusion. Your heart plummets to the ground as his eyes find yours in the darkness.

“...Y/N?” he mumbles, as he rises stiffly from his pile of blankets like a mummy from a sarcophagus. “Am I dreaming?”

“I was just leaving,” you squeak, hoping beyond hope that Mick would be tired enough to think nothing of his best friend suddenly creeping into his room in the middle of the night. Turning on your heel, you attempt to reach for the door knob but are immediately halted by the sound of Mick’s voice.

“Wait–” Mick calls out, his voice faint, “stay.��

You suck in a breath, grateful that the cover of night conceals the cherry red flush of your cheeks. Taking a tentative step forward, you find your fingertips gingerly clinging to the cool metal of the doorknob in worry. Swallowing the lump in your throat, it feels as though you might be the one dreaming.

“Mickey, look, I can explain, I, uh–I was just…” you stumble over the words of your confession, eyes now well-adjusted enough to see Mick’s expression go soft, almost as if he were concealing a smile.

Mick chuckles at your embarrassment, his gravelly voice making your heart flutter involuntarily. “You were scared, weren’t you?’

“Yeah,” you sigh, not bothering to dig an even deeper hole, “I guess I was.”

Staring down at your bare feet, you allow a beat of silence to pass between the two of you. Mick says nothing, only stares, and for a moment you squirm at the thought that you may have overstayed your welcome. The thought alone is enough to make you cringe.

Mick clears his throat, startling you out of your compulsive rumination. Peering up like a scolded child, you watch him scoot toward the far end of the mattress and straighten out his wrinkled duvet with a lazy hand.

“Well don’t just stand there,” he grins, “get in.”

“Seriously?”

Mick rolls his eyes and pats the empty space for emphasis, “Yes, seriously. Freddy can’t get ya so long as you’re with me– scout’s honor.”

“As if you were a fucking boy scout,” you snort, unable to let your previous feelings of shame conceal the utter ridiculousness of the present situation. Here you are standing at the bedside of your best friend with a bleeding heart, and he’s already prepared to bandage you back up.

“But it’s the thought that counts, right? Now hurry your ass up, I want to get back to sleep.”

Your feet seem to propel you forward of their own accord and, before your neurotic brain can shift into overdrive, you’re already nestling into Mick’s bedsheets. You hum comfortably, the velvet still warm from where he had been sleeping. Every inch of the fabric smells of him, and it takes the last shred of your willpower to not just let your feelings leak straight out of your mouth and onto deaf ears.

“That’s easy for you to say, Mickey,” you tease weakly, “you’ve never been scared of anything.”

“I get scared sometimes,” Mick confesses, “I just wouldn’t want you to ever think differently of me because of it.”

You don’t need to see Mick’s face to know that he’s frowning.

Emboldened by his sudden admission of vulnerability, you turn on your side to face him. Mick’s eyes are fixed firmly on the ceiling, as if all the answers to life’s deepest, darkest questions could be etched somewhere in the popcorned pattern.

“W-what do you mean?” you meant to sound confident, but your voice comes out as barely more than a whisper.

To your disbelief, Mick turns over as well, his deep blue eyes shining through the shadowy bedroom like the frothy caps of a stormy sea. You can practically feel your heart reaching out to him, begging to pull you under and keep you there.

Mick’s hand finds yours somewhere beneath the velvet sheets and gives you a gentle squeeze, his warm palm enveloping your cold one in an instant.

“There’s something I want to say but I’m afraid…” he whispers, voice as delicate as spun sugar, “...I’m afraid I’ll lose you if I do, and I don’t wanna lose you.”

For a moment all you can do is blink, your mind reeling from the implications of what your best friend may or may not be admitting to you. You know that you need to say something quick, but your tongue turns to sand in your mouth.

Mick’s hand still entwined with yours, you take the opportunity to move in closer. Slowly you close the gap between the two of you, leaving nothing but the space reserved for the halo of mutual body heat forming around your place in the sheets.

“I think I know what you mean,” you bring Micks hand to your chest and let the frantic pulse of your heart do all the talking.

Without warning, Mick gives you a gentle kiss on the nose. The touch is so faint, you’re almost worried you may have imagined it.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah, Mickey?”

“I think I love you.”

Your free hand rests gingerly on your best friend’s cheek, and for the first time that night you find yourself unafraid of what comes next. His face is red hot to the touch, and you wonder if anyone else knew Mick could be so warm.

“You sure you’d want to do a crazy thing like that?”

Mick just chuckles and shakes his head, “Nothing feels crazy when I’m with you.”

“Then I guess I’m just gonna have to love you, too.”

#hello!#i'm kind of back for now #sorry to be so shit #the dirt #the dirt requests #motley crue imagine #motley crue oneshot #motley crue #mick mars #tommy lee #nikki sixx #vince neil #iwan rheon #80s #80s rock #the dirt netflix

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