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#when miles had that dumb fucking smirk on his face drinking that stupid fucking glass of wine while making fun of helen god
kaaladins · 1 year
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can’t say it on twitter but i’ll say it on here i loved glass onion biggest takeaway KILL A WHITE MAN !!! RUIN THE LIFE OF AN EGOTISTICAL RICH WHITE MAN FUCK HIM UP FOR LIFE !!!!! HELL FUCKIN YEAH !!!! WHITE MAN STEALS EVERYTHING FROM A BLACK WOMAN SND THEN KILLS HER WITH NO REMORSE FUCKIN BRUTALIZE HIM !!!!!!! FUCK THAT WHITE MAN !!!!!!
theme song of this post is kill a hipster by watsky and chinaka hodge please adjust your vibe accordingly
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cosmicbash · 3 years
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it’s always jelus and insecure em!! i wanna see jelus and insecure kells!!!!
They're divorced. Twice.
It's public knowledge, and the majority of the sordid details behind their shitshow of two marriages are too.
And Marshall's his. The little sparkle of one of his own earrings reflecting from inside the older man's lobe and the heavy droop of his sweater on the smaller rapper's shoulder's only emphasizes that. The same way his presence here at a close family and friends holiday party does.
Marshall's his. His boyfriend, his lover, his partner. His. No one elses.
But. That sickly sour taste of insecurity is tickling the back of his tongue with each bitter bite the blonde finds himself taking of a gingerbread cookie. His eyes are locked across the room on Marshall's fluffy santa hat decorated head, the cute christmas centric outfit he was wearing no longer warming Colson's heart like it had only an hour prior. Marshall looks too good in it, all soft and dressed down from his usual monochrome track suits and that was exactly the problem. Colson hates how good he looks right now, knowing the man's ex also got to see it, up close and much too personal for his preference.
It wasn't like he had any real reason to worry. Kim was here because of the kids. Not because Marshall directly invited her. It was a pleasantry between exes, done solely to keep the peace and feign some level of normalcy to their children. Even long after all of them had grown up.
And the two weren't exactly on great terms. Marshall still cringed at the very mention of her and from the dirty look she shot the man's way the second they opened the front door she hinted it was mutual.
But, Colson also knows the rapper isn't against hate sex. Afterall, if Marshall was, him and Casie wouldn't have been scrambling to finish all these damn gingerbread men this afternoon. They'd be miles away in Cleveland or LA, celebrating their own christmas, never knowing Marshall's "secret recipe".
It's frustrating to say in the least.
"I see Kim's round for her bi-yearly intereference." A soft bump to his shoulder drags Colson's eyes away from the locked position he's held for over a half hour. Royce's smug smiling face replacing it as he turns.
Colson's still not sure if he can call himself and Ryan friends just yet, there's a past there between the rapper and Marshall as well that's he's only gleamed surface of, on top of the usual tension that comes from an overprotective friend meeting the new "boyfriend". But unlike Kim, Ryan will at least acknowledge his existence so that makes it a bit easier for him to handle. "Bi-yearly interference?"
"Yeah," The other rapper's smirk only seems to widen into a grin as he shakes his head and downs what's left of his drink. "That's the kindest word I can use with the girl's around." Ryan's motioning with his head to follow him around the countertop for some more and despite how much Colson appreciates his current vantage point he accepts the invitation if not for something better to do.
Better than getting called out for staring like a jealous tween girl at least.
"She does this every other year, or just any year Marsh manages to bring home a lady finally-" Ryan's ring clad fingers shake the bottle of spiked eggnog his way. Colson accepts that too with quick nod, letting the 'lady' dig sent his way pass without acknowledgement. "She shows up in that stupid baby blue dress, hair freshly dyed, face done up to the nines, all that shit she'd do back when her and Marsh were still together and she was his-" quick pause in pouring for signed quotation marks, Ryan's eye roll visible even through his shades. "Dime piece." The confirmation of something being up with her less than Christmassy themed outfit only stokes the fire in Colson's stomach though and makes his neck itch to twist back around but Ryan is continuing. "And then she flaunts their ex status like its some trophy whoever Marshall's seeing should be jealous of."
Even the quick toss of some eggnog into the back of his mouth doesn't smother his fire. If anything the weak liquor filled drink puffs like gasoline for Colson's nerves. "And what? She's gonna try and fuck him? Break us up?" Either of those things would happen over his dead body, or hers. He's not against slapping a bitch when it comes to his love life. "So much for him being the bitter yearning ex huh."
Ryan gives a little snort and nod before retopping up his drink. "Funny how that works aint it?"
Now Marshall's presence behind his back feels like a super magnet. Colson's eyes a set of steel balls trembling right before they're whipped back across the room to land on their target. He doesn't want to look just yet though, not now that he knows this jealous pit in his stomach is just further feeding into Kim's scheme. So he settles his eyes onto Ryan's shimmering gold chain instead. "Kinda dumb to compete with a dude by flaunting her old saggy tits and ass though." If Kim knew Marshall half as well as he does she'd know that neither of those can come close to competing with the huge cock hanging between his legs. "If he really needed to look at those there's at least 4 better pairs bouncing around the room right now."
Plus Colson had already taken a glimpse at Kim's flat ass on her way inside, the sad outline of a butt pad was clear as day to anyone within 20 feet of her.
"5 if you count his own." The honesty in Ryan's comment flashed a small strike of Colson's jealousy his way too. The clink of their glasses together in mutual agreement a little harder than needed. "I wouldn't waste your time worrying about it. Been like 6 or 7 years since she was actually successful with it."
"Yeah?" That still felt a little too soon for Colson's comfort. Even if he was only a sniveling brat in Marshall's mind back then.
"Yeah man, trust me, he ain't gonna risk shit with you for Cursed Kim over there." By now Colson's gaze has followed Ryan's, settling rather anxiously on the two with just as much intense focus as he had earlier. The small touch of Kim's fingers to Marshall's bicep tightening his own around the glass.
"For her sake he better not."
"Yeah?" Ryan's shoulder bumping his jostles his attention away again, this time the man is staying closer though. His warm breath felt on Colson's face when their eyes meet. The pretentious shades finally having slipped low enough to flash serious brown orbs. "He cheats and you gonna whoop HER ass? You that obsessed with Marsh?"
Colson can hear the disbelief, and see the close scrutiny he's suddenly being put under. But he doesn't back down from the look one bit. "If he fucks up that's on him, but he's still mine and I'm not gonna toss him over to her just because he acts like an idiot." Marshall cheating would hurt. Colson's already gone through that awful fear once before though, back when they had just started fucking and the question of monogamy came up. The mere thought of the other man touching someone else had almost killed him, and they weren't even dating yet. But it had also set Colson's mind that even if it did happen he wouldn't limp off to lick his wounds.
He's only going to dig his claws in deeper and stake his claim louder.
Marshall's his. Even if he fucks up and forgets that for a moment. He's his and Colson's never letting him go.
"He's mine."
Kim's manicure on his man's bicep is only temporary. Colson's gaze and quick feet will make sure of that.
"Damn, you might be worse than both of them, kid."
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myhockeyworld87 · 4 years
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Love Me Anyway - Tyler Seguin - Part 2
Word Count: 2463
POV: Both (starts with reader then switches to Tyler)
Warnings: Language
Notes: Alright so here is the second part to my first every writing attempt. Glad you guys enjoyed the first part. Happy reading! Peace, Love and Hugs all!
Pic credit: 
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READER POV
"Do you know who you were just talking to?" your friend Becca asked.
"Tyler fucking Seguin that's who!" Jenna blurted out.
"OMG he is sooooo sexy!" Mimi said dreamily.
"Yeah, he spilled water on me……Twice" your hand was wet from when he took hold of your wrist. You somehow just realized that.
"So why are you here talking to us," Jenna asked.
"Guys, its Tyler Seguin, king of one night stands. He literally has women falling in his lap with their mouths open" you chuckled. Taking your fist and making like you were sucking on an air dick. Everyone burst out laughing. Once you caught your breath you continued, "seriously, I'm not out for just a roll in the hay. I want something more than that. I'm not going to say I'll find it here tonight. I just know that he's not the type to settle for just one woman."
Just then you saw Mimi's boyfriend Bryan come grab her around the waist. He dipped his lips down to kiss her on the neck. It was so adorable, considering he was like over a foot taller than her. "Hey ladies" he greeted the rest of you.
"I thought this was a girl's night Mimi" Becca questioned.
"Yeah, no boys allowed," you teased Bryan.
"Back off bitches" he taunted back. "I can't help it, I missed my woman."
That right there, that's what you wanted. A guy that wanted to be around you, the same way Bryan always wanted to be with Mimi even after they'd been together for 3 years. It was something you and Kyle never really had. Well maybe in the beginning, but it had faded away quickly. You looked over and saw that Bryan had come with his friends Derek and Chris. Derek was great and you were pretty sure Jenna had the hots for him. From the looks he was giving her, the feeling was mutual. They'd make a cute pair. Chris however; he creeped you out. He always felt like he was undressing you with his eyes. It wasn't something that just you thought either. You, Jenna and Becca, had talked about it before.
"Alright, enough of this lovey-dovey shit. I came here to party. Let's hit the dance floor." You urged grabbing Becca's hand and heading out to dance.
The dance floor was crowded but you didn't mind. You guys all started grooving around to the music, drinks in hand. You were singing along with the words and moving to the beat when you felt Chris grind up behind you. You were trying to move away nonchalantly when you felt him grab your hips and pull you back against him, moving his hands to the front of your shorts. You took your free hand and moved him away, but that didn't deter him. He just did it again. You only noticed then that your friends were swallowed up in the crowd away from you. You could feel his erection against you and were repulsed by it. You pulled at his hands to move off you, dropping your glass in the process. Which only made Chris pull you harder against him.
"Come on (Y/N), you know you want it" he breathed against your ear.
"Get off me you creep" you spat back at him.
It was then, that you heard a low growl. "Let her go, or you'll have to deal with me."
You turned as Chris's grip eased on you to see Tyler, grabbing the back of his neck.
"What the fuck man?" Chris yelled. "I wasn't doing anything."
You rolled your eyes stepping fully away from Chris. You could see the anger emanating off of Tyler. He was just waiting for Chris to say something stupid so he could beat the shit out of him. Part of you wanted to let him, but that wasn't good for anyone. You lightly touched Tyler's arm causing him to look at you. His dark brown eyes softened. "I could really use a drink," you said to him. He let go of Chris and grabbed your hand leading you off the dance floor to the bar.
Once you got there Tyler didn't let go of your hand. "Are you ok?" he asked.
"I'm fine. Thanks for stepping in though. I really appreciate it."
"Not a problem. So what can I get ya?"
"Oh, you don't need to get me a drink. I just figured it was a way to get out of there."
"Honestly (Y/N) I think we both need a drink after that."
You chuckled and told him what you wanted. He turned to the bartender, who an hour ago you were drooling over; but right now you didn't even know he existed. "So, we were never officially introduced. I'm Tyler," he said.
"Um…yeah I know" you replied. "I knew who you were before."
"Really? So you just dismiss every guy that tries to be nice to you and buy you a drink?"He enquired.
It was your turn to blush now. "Sorry I wasn't trying to be rude. It's just….." you let your voice trail off, not really knowing how to put into words everything that was going through your mind.
He raised an eyebrow at you quizzically urging you to continue. You lifted your head up hoping for divine guidance but knowing that you weren't going to find any. So you just blurted out the first thing that came to your mind. "I'm just not the one-night stand type of girl." Phew, you said it. Just like that. It kind of all seemed like one word as it came out in a rush and you hoped you didn't offend him further after he'd just rescued your ass from that dickhead Chris.
He smirked at you. "And you think I'm the one-night stand type of guy?"
Just then your drinks came. You took a big gulp, looking for some liquid courage and then proceeded. "Well…..ummm…."
Tyler stopped your suffering by saying "Look I get it, I have a reputation and sometimes not a good one, but I'm not that guy that they paint me out to be in online chats and stuff. I mean I was. It's just….."
This time it was you that stopped him. "I get it too. Don't believe everything you read. I'm sorry I labeled you into that box. How about we start the night over?"
"Gladly" he sighed.
"Hi, I'm (Y/N)," you held out your hand for him to shake.
"Nice to meet you (Y/N), I'm Tyler. So you come here often?"
You both bust out laughing. You knew he had said it on purpose, but you had to say "You really have no game do you?"
"Apparently not around you," he chuckled.
TYLER'S POV
You moved back to your circle of friends, still somewhat stunned by your encounter with (Y/N). Did she feel that same spark you did? You needed to know more, but first, you needed a plan. You'd really fucked up that first meeting with her and you were not going to do that again.
You sat back amongst your friends watching (Y/N)'s every move, not paying any attention to those around you. You saw some guys walk in and had to wonder if one of them was her boyfriend or maybe fiancée. You hadn't noticed a ring but then you really never looked down to check either. They all seemed very friendly with each other. She laughed at something the really tall guy said; you were immediately jealous that he got to hear her laugh and not you. They seemed to chat a bit and then headed out to the dance floor. Maybe you should head there? Start casually dancing with her. Show her some moves. Oh hell, who were you kidding? You didn't really have any great dance moves.
You continued to watch her body move to the music when you saw one of her male friends start to dance up behind her. He seemed to be pulling her away from the rest of the group. Because you were so laser-focused on her, you saw her hand trying to brush him away.  You didn't realize you were standing up walking towards the dance floor until you saw a slightly panicked expression on her face. It seemed like she was miles away. You saw her struggle against the scumbag again this time dropping her drink in an effort to get away from him. He was whispering something to her and she looked repulsed. You could feel the anger bubbling up inside you. You finally made it to her, grabbing the guy by the back of the neck and telling him to let her go. All you wanted to do was just punch him in the face. You weren't really known for your hockey fighting skills, but right now you could lay this guy flat out in a second. Then she touched you. That soft caress bringing you out of all the anger that was seething inside you. It was all you needed. You knew she was safe. She looked at you, her hand still on your arm and said. "I could really use a drink." You let the douchebag go and slid your hand down to entwine with hers, leading her to the bar.
You officially introduced yourself, finding out that your initial instincts were right. She did know who you were, which therein lies the problem. Your past. God, it came back to haunt you so many times. You'd made some dumb decisions in your life and right now you were regretting every one of them. All you wanted was a chance right now to show her you weren't always that guy. The one that slept around, that deep down inside you were craving to find that one person, just like everyone else. But it was hard to say all that. Thankfully she understood the direction in which you were going and offered to start the night all over again.
"Hi, I'm (Y/N)," she held out her hand and so you took it.
"Nice to meet you (Y/N), I'm Tyler" and then you added the one thing sure to make her laugh. "So come here often?" you asked with a wink. You both laughed and from there, things went so much smoother.
You talked about your dogs, Cash, Marshall and Gerry. She told you what she did for a living, and that she loved music. You found out that she was a hockey fan but she didn't really question you a whole lot about it. She was more interested in what you did in your spare time. You told her about fishing at the lake in the summer and how the dogs loved to swim. She mentioned how she planned on getting a dog soon, but that she traveled a lot for work.
"You should come over and meet the boys. They love any attention they can get."
"Hmmm, guess they got that from their dad" she teased.
"Hey now, nothing wrong with getting a little attention. Especially if it's coming from you," you flirted back.
(Y/N) blushed a little. It was really attractive on her. You two kept up a light conversation for a while, but then someone bumped her as they were trying to get a drink at the bar, making her off balance. You instinctively reached for her waist to steady her; as her hands came to rest on your chest. She felt so right in your arms; almost like she was made for you. You were staring into her eyes and then your eyes traveled down to her mouth. All you wanted to do was kiss her. You had to know if she tasted as perfect as she felt. Your heart was beating out of your chest, she could probably feel it under her palm. You'd never been this nervous to kiss someone in your life. You tilted your head slowly.
"TTTTTYYYYYLLLLLEEERR" you heard Mike slur in your ear as he grabbed your shoulder, causing (Y/N) to step out of your arms. God, he was going to pay for ruining this. "Afterparty at yyooouurr house. EEEvverryyyone is going nowwww." Mike was drunk, it was obvious and the blonde hanging on his arm was no better. You rolled your eyes. This is not where you saw the rest of the night going. Normally you were up for any kind of party at your place, but tonight, all you wanted to do was go huddle up in a corner with the girl in front of you and learn more about her. Knowing Mike he already had half the party at your house pulling beers from the fridge.
"Give me a minute," you told Mike.
Mike looked over at (Y/N) "you should coommmee tooooo."
"Yes, you should. Save me from these drunks," you said. "I don't know if I can deal with this guy's shit all night."
"Ummm...Thanks for the offer, but I should probably get back with my friends." (Y/N) answered back.
"They should come too. Well except for that one scumbag."
"I don't know…" She was trying to make an excuse and you wouldn't let her get away again.
"You never know until we ask them. Come on I'll go over with you. Go grab an Uber and I'll meet you out front." you told Mike. With that, you and (Y/N) started towards her friends.
"Hey guys, this is Tyler," she said.
You held your hand out to shake everyone's hand as she introduced you. Luckily the guy, whose face you still wanted to punch; wasn't there.
"So we're having a little after-party at my house. I was just telling (Y/N) you guys should come."
The girls all looked at her, while the 2 guys were already saying "sure." You could tell she was hesitant. She looked back at her friends and then finally answered. "If you guys want to….then sure, let's go."
You hadn't realized you were holding your breath until she said she would come. "Excellent. Did you guys drive or….."
You didn't get to finish that sentence when her friend Mimi blurted out "no we can just uber there."
"I just need your address," (Y/N) said looking up at you as she grabbed her phone. She handed it over to you and you quickly put in all your information. You also shot yourself a quick text so you'd have her number.
"We'll just finish our drinks and settle our tab," you heard Jenna say.
"Great I'll see you guys shortly" you replied. You bent your head to (Y/N)'s ear and whispered, "see you soon beautiful." With that, you turned to go meet your own Uber.
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slothgiirl · 4 years
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shadowplay part 12
It's dark by the time you arrive at the little cabin which is incredibly skewed towards glamping. There's trees flocking every side, and little fairy lights scattered around the porch. 
The sight is enough to make a romantic out of anyone. 
Miles wastes no time, running in, Zack on his heels, to throw himself into the first bedroom he likes, "I call the master!"
"Like hell your getting it," Zack yells, tackling Miles. 
"Should we tell them they're sharing a room," Breana asks, pouting as she takes a selfie in front of the doorway, tilting her head just right. 
Matt snorts, placing an arm around his girlfriend, and throwing the laziest peace sign up in her photos, "Let them have their fun." He smiles down at Breana with a fondness that speaks of years and years of being together. 
"I'm guessing you already know which room you want," you ask Breana whose clearly in charge here which doesn't surprise you at all. Alex doesn't own any pans at his flat and you highly doubt that Miles is any better. There's some hope that Zack isn't completely useless on his own, but then again, he's a single man in the music business. It's not a overly large hope. 
You knew enough rich men from work to know that they're usually helpless even if they're helpless in 10,000 pound suits. 
It evened out. 
"No," Breana says sweetly, having only eyes for Matt. "You take whichever room you want."
"I don't really care," you reply taking in the tastefully decorated living room. You run your hand over the sofa, noting the acrylic fabric, not yet matted down. Probably some Ikea adjacent sofa. It no longer cost an arm and a leg to have nice things, though the vintage technique would undoubtedly last longer. You'd been to many country estates, on last minitue alterations to know that. Hundred year old linens still in perfect forms. 
Estate sales were your best friend. 
"Well if you're sure," Breana replies, leveling her gaze with yours, "I'll take-," "We'll," Matts corrects. 
"We'll," Breana smiles, looking at Matt with the biggest smile on her face, "take the room with the patio."
"For the gram," you grin. 
"Gotta keep up with the algorithm." She'd already told you about her clothing brand, which was just another line of basics that you didn't really think anyone needed. Uniqlo was enough. And she'd shown you her instagram which was exactly what you imagined it too be, bright light californian influencer aesthetic, clearly influenced by minimalism which photographed very well. 
"Does that mean I should post more often than every couple of months," you tease, meeting Alex's heavy gaze, as he leans against a wall, boots still on. You could never wear shoes indoor, but you suppose it isn't your place so it doesn't matter. Your floral embroidered bag in his hand, along with his own bags. 
"Yes! We should work on your instagram while we're here," Breana offers, "there's so many cute pictures we could take."
Matt chuckles, "later."
"Later," she repeats, all heart eyed. 
You tilt your head, watching them. She was easily out of his league. And yet, here she was, actually in love with Matt, who you still couldn't puzzle out. If she was your girlfriend, you'd have pulled over at all her cute and dumb points of interest along the road. It was a road trip after all. A road trip with his girlfriend and friends, not just the lads. 
Alex tilts his head, motioning down the hallway. You can here Zack and Miles in some room fighting over what song to blast through the speakers, Miles upselling the virtues of some obscure 70s band. 
You follow Alex, half walking, half sliding along the wooden floor, artificial pine smell still in the air from when it had last been cleaned. The yeezy socks had been a gag gift from Sam for last christmas. "Isn't Arielle's wedding next month," you ask Alex, still thinking of the strung up fairy lights. 
"Why," he asks, opening the closed room. 
You switch the lights on, taking a second to play with the sliding switch. Definitely something you wanted when you finally bought a house. You'd finally made the appointment with a realtor for the week that you returned. You'd dragged your feet long enough. A thirty minute commute to work wasn't bad if you got a little garden out of it. A place to drink tea. 
"I was just thinking that she'd for sure have fairy lights. A pinterest wedding," you bit your lips, "you think pinterest sponsers influencers."
"How'd you figure she'd an influencer," Alex asks instead, putting the bags down and finally kicking his boots off as he sits down on the bed. 
You close the door, locking it for once because you didn't fancy Miles bursting in if you wanted to change. He was definitely shameless enough to not care, acting without thinking, without meaning any harm. "She had that effort effortless look," you shrug, "its basically a job to look that effortless."
Alex laughs, " 's true. But I don't really want to talk about her."
"Sorry."
"No," he says, leaning back on his hands, watching as you change into a pajama set. You'd have blushed if you hadn't changed in front of him loads of times before. Your mothers solution to body image issues, being a therapist and all, was to make you stand in front a a mirror and repeat 'I'm beautiful' before going to school every day. It had been stupid then, but clearly had worked. You didn't even mind the belly rolls you got when leaning over to pull your shorts on. "I just don't want to bother with the past anymore."
You nod, smiling over at him, "good to hear you move on."
Alex smiles back, red creeping up his cheeks. "I 'fink I've moved on a while ago actually. . .just crept up on me."
"That’s good," you tell him, looking down at the floor, wood like the rest of the cabin which was closer to a chateau. Rich people honestly. You try to shove down the hope ballooning in your chest at his words, as if you'd have any chance. His friends are here. And-you stop your train of thoughts right there, unwilling to go further like a coward. "Guess you can go out and be a proper rock star instead of being a sap at my flat."
"Oh," Alex grins with a smirk that's so fitting with his sleeked back hair and the 50s greaser aesthetic he was so fond of, "Don't lie, you like having me over."
"I like getting free take out," you counter with a grin of your own, laying down on the bed next to him. "And you do have great taste in music, but don't let it go to your head."
"Too late. My ego's the size of the hollywood sign."
You laugh, looking up at him. You really were glad you'd decided to come. "Is your horde of gel the mountain the signs on?"
"Never can win with you can I," Alex smiles, looking down at you, his eyes twinkling in the soft light, dark like a glass of top shelf scotch. Your heart fluttered in your chest, you couldn't maintain eye contact when he looked at you like that, your thoughts surging wildly, sending your pulse racing. It had been happening a lot more lately. 
You liked him. 
Too much. 
You couldn't help it. It was Alex. He was easy to like, easy to let into your life until you couldn't imagine your life without him there, smiling like a dork despite trying to look like John Travolta in Grease, carting a record player to your flat because music just wasn't the same without the scratches in old vinyl records. "Your words not mine." You swallow thickly. 
Alex strokes the side of your face gently, his touch setting your skin aflame, leaving you breathless. There's-there's no excuse. No friends to pretend for. No movie playing to cut the tension. You want desperately to pull away before your feelings are crushed. But you can't his gaze resting so earnestly on you, pinning you to the bed. 
"Can we talk," he finally utters, in that serious stilted way, as if Alex can only approach words from the side, never head on, never as comfortable as he was in writing. 
"Sure."
A knock on the door. 
Loud.
Harsh. 
Jolts you out of whatever trance you'd been in, letting you release a breath you didn't know you'd been holding, letting you look away from Alex. Zacks voice calls out from the hall, "we're going to order food!"
You force your voice to stay stead, unwilling to betray the rush of emotions coursing through you, blood rushing in your veins. Chest full of butterflies as you  answer, "don't tease me like that Zack, just let me know when the foods here." You should've used this as an out. But-it's Alex. That's the whole problem. You care for him, as a friend, as more. 
You'd never just leave him because you're feeling like being a coward. 
"Okay," Zack laughs, "just don't blame me if you hate everything we order."
"I'm sure the spiciest thing you've ever had was salt and pepper," you call back.
You listen to his steps disappear down the hall, eyes trained on the door. Heart beating like a sewing machine making it's way down the line of an inseam. You can't think, all flustered like this. 
Taking a deep breath, you turn to Alex. 
He takes your face in his hands, cupping your cheeks, his touch hot on your skin, his entire body leaning towards you the way sunflowers turn to face the sun, soaking in their rays. You're breathless. 
There's no wavier in his voice as Alex says, "I really like you. I think I might actually be in love with ya if I'm being honest. But right now, I just really wanna fuck you."
Cheeks burning red, you can't-your voice stops working. Brain short circuiting as you look at Alex. Desire pooling in your belly. You're a horny uni student all over again. Not trusting yourself to speak. His body hovering above yours, caging you against the bed. You want nothing more than to reach out and bring him flush against your body.
You don't trust yourself to speak.
When you don't respond, Alex, jaw clenching, adds, "if ya don't feel the same way just tell me tah fuck right off. But I can't-I can't lie next to yah and pretend it don't mean a thing to me."
"What a coincidence," you finally manage, smiling softly up at him, so close you could just reach up and kiss him, "I like you a lot as well." It's in the top ten dumbest things you've ever said in your life. And the most english thing, to keep a stiff upper lip when you're literally laying under the man you haven't been able to stop thinking about. 
"That's good," Alex notes, raising a brow. The little eager school boyish expression on his face making you giggle. 
He shuts you up promptly, smothering your laugh with a deep kiss, so unlike all the other times he's kissed you. None of the hovering and hesitance, none of the stiffness in your body, as you reach up, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pressing his body against yours, savoring the feel of him. His toned muscles shifting as he shifts against you. 
It's hot and heavy, with a bruising intensity as Alex kisses you. You match him with the same passion, with all the pent up months of tension, of finally getting to show him how much you like him, how you've been thinking of him for weeks now. There's still sugar on his lips from the bubble tea you'd made him try, his tongue exploring your mouth as you moan into the kiss, fingers digging into his shoulders. 
Alex's chest against yours. 
His hand winding its way into your hair, keeping it out of your face as you kiss him. As you loose yourself in Alex. The entire world shrinking until it's just the two of you. And nothing else matters. His other hand running down your side. Fingertips brushing over the exposed skin above the waistband of your shorts, before shoving the fabric aside, his hand griping your side. 
You kiss his lips, pulling his bottom lip between your teeth, leaving you both gasping for air. Eyes glazed over, raging wildly with want. 
"I'm gonna fuck you love," Alex, whispers planting kisses down your neck, his fingers undoing the buttons of your shirt. "Show ya how crazy you've been driving me."
You nod, shakily, your gaze never leaving his, as your shirt falls back onto your shoulders, falls open.
Sam had been spot on, making you pack the nice parisian undergarments that had been at the back of your drawer abandoned. You'll have to buy her something really nice before you get back to the old smoke. 
Alex pulls his own shirt off. 
He shakes his head, smirking, "but you've got to say it love. Can't be the only one baring my soul here."
"You're baring more than your soul Alex," you tease, despite the hitch in your voice, revealing just how worked up you were feeling. But you indulge him, because you really want him. Your skin burning in anticipation of what comes next. "But right now I'm more interested in you fucking me."
Alex laughs, but there's no hiding the hoarseness in his voice. 
Then sits up on his legs, trailing kisses down your chest, down you belly as he works your shorts down your legs, you tilting your hips up so he can leave you bare, taking your nice lingere along with the shorts. It was a shame too. They really were nice, lacy and racy, worth the trouble of wearing. 
Your toes curl as Alex kisses the crook of your leg, your breath hitching as he prices open your legs, an easy move when you were all too willing to let him go down on you. 
Alex presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, his hand grasping the skin, all the while his other hand, his fingers brushed over your clit, dipping into your folds, into the wetness. Your eyes fluttering shut, a whimper escaping from your lips. "I wanna hear you love," Alex whispers against your skin, mouth moving teasingly close to your center. "Let me hear you."
You can't stifle the cry as he runs his tongue through your folds, maddeningly slow, before sucking on your clit long enough for your brain to short circuit. He doesn't let up, flicking his tongue against you, your breathe short as you whimper at his ministrations. His fingers digging into your skin.
You clutch at the covers, bunching them up in your palms. 
Alex sucks at your clit, his hand brushing against your folds, before slipping a finger into your core, curling inside you. 
You're on fire, skin hot. Eyes squeezed shut as you're overwhelmed with sensations, Alex's mouth against your center, breath tickling the skin, driving you crazier. The same mouth you'd kissed only moments ago.  
He adds another finger, pumping his hand against your core, eliciting more whimpers and moans from your lips. The wetness in your core growing. The heat in your lower belly growing. 
You can't take it. "Alex," you whimper. Bitting your lower lip. There's no way you'll last longer than a couple of seconds. All edged out. 
"Come for me," he utters, as choked up as you feel, his fingers buried inside you as he shifts, pressing his lips against your collar bone, nipping the the skin. You let go, coming against his hand, and the feel of his skin against yours. 
You're consumed by bliss. Left gasping for breath. 
Boneless as Alex gets up, unbuttoning his tight dark jeans, but not before rifling through his wallet for a condom. 
You can't be bothered to pay him much attention. 
Knocks ring out against the door, loud and insistent. Knocks like light taps that don't stop, a fly in your ear. 
Miles. 
And sure enough, "foods here! Al and Als much better looking bird," he jokes stretching bird as long as the sounds will let him.   
You prop yourself up on an elbow, wreaking your brain for a response as Alex freezes, clad in a pair of boxers, condom in hand. Utterly useless. 
"Matt won't leave us any if we dally," Miles adds, laughter clear in his tone. 
"Actually," you try, not sounding nearly as disheveled as you feel, as you are, "I think the jet lags caught up to me."
"Oh is it like that is it," Miles calls back, voice full of glee, "well let me know if yah need me. Three is a part-eh after all," he crackles. 
You let out a breath in relief, glad to be left alone. Again. 
Really you should've just stayed in LA. Or London. 
You could've done this in either place, uninterrupted. 
"Just focus on me love," Alex cuts in, make short work of getting your shirt the rest of the way off, kissing the corner of your mouth, knowing how easily you could get lost in your thoughts, like him. 
All the easier to understand him. 
He unhooks your bra, hands massaging your tits, the brush of his fingers hardening the peaks of your breasts, as he pressed his lips hard against yours. You eagerly kissed him back, softer than before, still ridiculously satisfied from before, your hands loose as they curled around his neck, letting him shift you both, letting him settle his weight between your legs, finally full naked. His hips hard against yours. 
Your lips eager against his mouth, already yearning for another taste of him. Alex's hand threading through your hair, as he shifts, finding your core with his hard cock, entering you in one swift thrust. 
You cry out into his mouth, you hand gripping his back. Your fingers finding their way into his hair. Soft despite the amount of product. Had to be expensive. 
You hold him against you, loving finally having him the way you've refused to admit to yourself that you wanted. You've been wanting Alex for weeks now. All the parts of of. The man who got pissed drunk at a pub, the man who'd bring you take out and fold your blankets, the man who kissed you. 
He breaks the kiss, nuzzling his lips against the crook of your neck, inbetween moans, your name on his tongue, as he thrusts deeply into you, filling you up to the brim, as you clench around him. "Yah feel so good love," he groans, heady with passion. 
Alex's pace relentless, all pent up want, the frustration of spending nights curled up with you on settees and beds, never being able to do more than look. 
He fucks you, his teeth nipping the delicate skin at the base of your throat. 
You gasp for breath, moaning his name like a prayer on your lips, wondering how the bloody hell you had ended up here. How lucky you were to have ended up here. 
His hips against yours, his body flush against your's as his thrusts become erratic. 
Your fingers digging into the skin of his back, as he comes against you. You’re exhausted. Spent. A day traveling by plane. A drive that lasted the entire day, and now this. You-you're not sure where this leaves you, where you go from here. This isn't exactly a standard way of-this isn't friends to more or strangers hitting it off, but you don't care. You'll figure it out, along with Alex. 
Alex who slumps over on his side, lying next to you, looking completely fucked. 
"I ruined your hair," you smile, completely out of it yourself, unable to summon any bite. 
Alex laughs, unabashedly, his entire demeanor taking on a boyish air, "for once I don't give a damn." 
"Are you going to go get food," you ask, rolling over so you can rest your head on his chest. 
"Don't particularly want to move. Debating getting up for a smoke though."
"Cool," you reply, letting your lids slid shut, "I'm going to go to sleep then."
"I take it ya not hungry," Alex smirks. 
"There's always Mcdonald's. At 3 am." 
24 notes · View notes
thotteus-beaumont · 4 years
Text
I’m in love with a boy
Summary: “Finest boy in the world...”“ 
“Don’t forget we have to stop at the video store.” Pete laid his head on Henry’s shoulder and sighed. For a moment or two, the three friends watched people pass them by with hoards of bags. They had laughs on their lips or kids at their hips but most of all, they just looked rushed.   
Ship: Henry/Pete & background Jonesy/Beaver
Words: 4,450
{September, 1981}
The pink & blue tiles framed the spot of the floor in which Beaver had spilled his soda in a nice diamond shape. 
Moon-Park Mall was about the closest shopping center to Derry (that didn’t just house dead Sears) and even it was a few miles outta the way. But the rush of after-school energy always made the trip worth it for most Derry-students. 
The ceilings were lined in neon-light stripes which matched the tiles--minus the new huge fizzy-brown stain--and shined down a dewy haze of color on every customer. And the plastic trees littering each corner really enhanced the consumer paradise with a soft atmosphere comparable to a pretty sunset...that just happened to be over a ‘Frost-Bite’s: Ice Cream’. 
Henry liked it well enough and the gang was far too rowdy to walk up-and-down the aisles of Derry’s finest pharmacy, Mr. Keene could only take so much. 
Beaver had been trying to find a speaker to stand under when he bumped right into Pete’s side and unleashed his refreshment all over those dusty tiles. 
“Fuck me Freddy.” He shook out his tiny palm and sprinkled a few extra droplets around. “I spent my last bit of cash on that shit.” His frown was genuine but the pout which followed was far exaggerated. Old ladies with baskets curled in their elbows, spared them a few glares as they strolled by. 
“The forbidden drink...” Pete licked his lips and stole Beavers useless straw and made a forward gesture, as if about to suck the brown puddle up through his teeth. Jonesy kicked him. 
Pete just chuckled and sat back down on the tiny bench by one of those plastic trees. He was still in his cross-country clothes; Derry Tigers stamped shorts and a matching red-and-white jacket. “No use in crying over spilled cheap-generic soda, Beav.” Henry rubbed behind his ear & bumped his glasses. 
“Easy for you to say. You still got twenty-bucks left.” He scoffed. 
“Oh, a, oh.” Pete echoed the song playing over the loud-speaker without even thinking about it. 
“Yeah, and I’m spending it on one of those crappy hot-dogs from the food-court.” Henry stuck out his tongue. 
“Oh, a, oh” This time, Jonesy joined in. 
Beaver rolled his eyes but nonetheless, the four of them burst into a united annoying chorus with more of a casual expression rather than excited. 
“I met your children Oh a oh What did you tell them? Video killed the radio star Video killed the radio star...”
With no obvious tell of their musical moment, “Get some paper-towels from Mr. Harper at the Pretzel place, Beav.” Jonesy lightly tapped the tiny mans back and ushered him to start in that direction. 
As he took off, the others lazily plopped down on the bench and stared forward at the puddle, past their dirty sneakers. “Don’t forget we have to stop at the video store.” Pete laid his head on Henry’s shoulder and sighed. 
For a moment or two, the three friends watched people pass them by with hoards of bags. They had laughs on their lips or kids at their hips but most of all, they just looked rushed. “We have to watch the movies at your place tonight cause Beav broke his VCR, remember?” Jonesy laid his head on Henry’s other shoulder for easier communication.   
Pete’s nose wrinkled. 
“We could always do something else.” Beaver butted in as he flew past them with crumpled up towels. He crouched down on the floor and began wiping the liquid away while Henry hummed. “We are Seniors after all--Pardon my big-boy talk, Pete. Some of us are Seniors.” He stuck his thumb over to him and Pete rolled his eyes. 
“Interesting to hear big-boy speech coming from you, Beaver. What are you 5′3 now?” Pete chuckled and was rewarded with a face-full of soda drenched towel. “Ow, fuck.” He whipped it back to Beaver. 
“Hey Pete, C’mere.” Henry flicked his tongue and gestured for Pete to come in close. He mumbled a few words into his friends ear in a whispered tone and both giggled. 
“What are you telling him?” Beaver laid the towel over his arm and came at them like a tiny ball of fury. 
Pete blinked a few times and leaned into the whisper before smirking. “Your credit-card number.” 
“So?” Beaver shrugged, not seeing how that could possibly be a big deal. 
“I’m gonna register you for that Modeling contest downstairs.” Pete could barely get the words out before laughing madly and hopping out of his seat. Running down the length of the 2nd floor before Beaver even started after him. He was that fast. 
Jonesy craned his neck to watch them go and laughed quietly, hearing their annoying teases from way down the halls. “Where do you think they’ll end up?” he asked as the two of them slowly got up from their seat. 
Henry hummed again, rolling his shoulders back. “Either the Food Court or Spinners.” Spinners had become one of Beaver’s favorite places ever since he first stepped into the aisles of records. “We better run after them, huh?” 
Jonesy chuckled. “Oh, let’s get a move on.” He nodded and the two of them started to slowly stroll down the Mall, whistling. 
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{Stupid Cupid by Connie Francis playing over muffled speakers} 
Pete set his chin in the middle of his palm and watched Beaver aimlessly flicker through records. Sometimes he’d pull them out and stare for twenty or thirty seconds and then slide them back inside their bins. 
Spinners sat in a nice little corner of Moon-Park which had a very convenient fry-stand nearby. 
“What’s Randy doin’ today?” Pete asked, with a mouthful of salt-and-peppered garlic fries. He followed Beav with loose interest. 
“Most likely making out with his girlfriend to something shitty like Jessie’s Girl.” Beaver shrugged, not much into whatever the hell it was that his older brother was doing on this fine day. “Why?” 
Pete shrugged and swallowed some food. He breifly made eye contact with a passing dude in a white t-shirt that read; ‘I Love a Rainy Night’. “Remember when he used to chaperone us whenever we came here?” 
Beaver took a few fries and smiled. “Yeah. Jesus-Christ-Bananas, time is kicking our asses.” He frowned and Pete pursed his lips, shrugging himself. “We’re gonna be graduating and then what?” 
Pete felt a tug in his chest at the thought. He’d been doing his best all summer to pretend like they were all going to stay-together after the school year even though he knew better. “You’ll leave me behind.” 
Beaver smacked the back of Pete’s head. “We say some stupid shit, don’t we Pete?” He gestured between them and Pete smiled with genuine warmth and fondness. 
“We know what we are.” Pete frowned again but it was more mocking than anything and stuck out his hand. He’d been genuinely sensitive over the fact that he appeared to be a total moron compared to Henry and Jonesy ever since the start of their friendship. He was aware that outsiders recognized that fact as well. But the Beav always made him feel better because ,Hell, anyone would look dumb next to Gariella & Henry. 
Beaver smacked it with joy. 
“Smart enough to figure out who the villain is in Scooby-Doo-” 
Pete rolled his eyes. “Be serious, idiot. It’s supposed to be something you’re actually proud of. This routine was your dumb idea anyway.” 
Beaver chuckled. “Smart enough to pass Mr. Landon’s Algebra test.” He compromised and tipped his chin. 
“Smart enough to get an A on that science test.” Pete smiled smugly and accepted Beavers distant yet proud whooping as he paraded once again around the aisles of Spinners. 
‘I Love a Rainy Night’ guy went past Pete again with something like an interested look before pulling out a few records. 
Pete turned around and nailed his back against the row of bins that Beaver was currently browsing. “Who sings that song again, Beav?” He tried to subtly point to the dude with his head. 
Beaver glanced up over his glasses. “Oh, um...shit it’s-...Rabbitt.” He snapped his fingers a few times. “It’s like Joey Rabbitt or something, crap.” He mumbled a few names to himself. 
Pete was pretty sure the last name was right anyway, so he slowly walked on over to stand next to the guy. “Rabbitt fan, huh?” Pete smirked. 
The man nodded, looking eerily ready to play this little game. “Yeah. I am. Why?” 
Pete hummed and ate another fry. “Well, you know the phrase ‘screwing like rabbits'? I think you and I can do better, want to try?” 
Beaver nearly choked on his own spit as he watched the encounter. It wasn’t technically uncommon for him to see Pete do something so bold. The two boys had confided in each other (and each other only) shortly after puberty had told them that bisexual thing might apply to their horny-teenage selves. 
It wasn’t exactly an accepted thing so they’d managed to keep it to themselves for a long time before they’d accidentally got drunk and maybe kissed each other to experiment. Their hypotheses were right in that they liked boys but the experiment failed in a sense because the kiss was gross. But it’d only been because the two of them were never meant to swap spit like that. Only when sharing sodas. 
But this was an extremely bold move that Beaver wasn’t a fan of. If the dude happened to take offense to the ‘accusations’ that pick-up line held-
The Rabbitt fan just smiled and looked Pete up and down. “I’ll see you around.” He shook his head and strolled off. 
Pete looked after him and chuckled to himself as he walked back over to the Beav who was uncharacteristically pissed. 
“That could’ve been a real fuckarow, asshole.” He shook his head and took in the fact that he may have well been the ‘responsible’ one in this situation. 
Pete leaned against the display again and frowned. “Sorry. But he was checking me out. I wouldn’t have said anything if I hadn’t been 100% positive, Beav.” He poked Beaver’s arm and looked mighty sorry. “I think he thought I was cute, at least?” 
Pete’s voice was bright and giddy. Beaver had to giggle at the idea of an actual person having feelings for one of them. Between the four of them, none of them had ever had a real girlfriend or any meaningful sexual encounters. 
{Peace Of Mind by Boston slowly transitions onto the muffled speakers}
Jonesy and Henry quickly cut off their stream of the giggles when they entered the store and happily came over. 
“They didn’t take him. Too short.” Pete pursed his lips and mocked sadness, taking Beavers little arm-punch like a champ. 
Henry rolled his eyes. “Beav you’re going with Jonesy to buy those dress-shoes he needs.” He gestured to the far end of the mall. “Pete, you’re coming with me to get those dang hot-dogs I want so fuckin’ bad.” He chuckled and playfully reached to grab Pete’s arm. Pete had no complaints. 
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The neon pink hues from the lights were bleeding into Pete Moore’s hair and blushing against his cheeks. Henry bit down on his sleeve and watched his friend messily dig into his own paper plate of food. 
His mind briefly filled with memories of their childhood, he could almost taste the sweet candy that Beaver used to steal from his brother. As they grew, candy became weed. Henry chuckled to himself and swallowed a bit of hot-dog. 
“Don’t laugh, I know I probably got food everywhere.” Pete rolled his eyes and took another large bite. 
“No-I wasn’t laughing at you.” Henry giggled.��
“Convincing, That’s what we tell Beaver when he does impressions in public-” 
Henry shook his head and curled his fingers together under his chin. “Nah, I’m serious. I was just...thinking.” He rolled his lips together and felt oddly alive at the sight of Pete’s warm smile in this damn commercial building. 
“What about?” Pete hummed, interested. 
Henry wasn’t sure what exactly he had been thinking about. Just that it was...nice to look at Pete. To be with him. “Remember when Randy took us to the mall and you blew chunks?” 
“Yeah, I was eating my weight in junk back in those days. Now, I’m all healthy and shit.” Pete wiggled his leg and gestured to his sports jacket. Henry lingered his eyes on his friends greasy tray and hummed. 
“Time flies.” Henry shook his head and stole some fries off of Pete’s plate. “Soon we’ll be adults...” he widened his eyes for a few seconds while Pete seemingly paused mid-action. “I can’t imagine us like that.” 
Pete swallowed and pulled his hands into his lap, leaning back casually. “I can’t imagine living past twenty-one...twenty-five, tops.” He chuckled, like it was funny but Henry felt hot anger. 
Moderate traffic could be heard through the large windows and past the echoes of the thick sounding music playing over the loudspeaker. Henry picked a small collection of crumbs from between his teeth and let the neon wash over him for a second. “It’s forty for me.” He frowned, scooting closer and laying his elbows on the crusted table. “I just don’t know--...sometimes I think I was meant to be thirty...a comfortable adult, y’know? But forty?” 
Pete hummed. “That’s a long time to try and stay happy.” 
Henry blinked. “Yeah-...that’s...” He nodded his head and leaned back again. “That’s exactly what I think when I-...y’know?” He shook his head and sighed. They both turned towards the windows and silently observed the new falling rain, which tapped lightly. 
“You’re gonna be with me though so...forty won’t be so bad.” Henry made sure to add that with the sincerest of looks. Pete made slow eye contact and dragged it out farther as he gently rested his chin on his elbows which were curled on the table. Smiling all the way like...well-...like he was looking at his best friend. 
“Randy bought me a ginger-ale and walked me to the bathroom.” His chuckle was muffled as he hid his smile in the crook of his arm. “I thought that was the shit, H.” He giggled again which ignited a bit of confusion in Henry. “My best friend’s older brother was paying attention to me, y’know?”
Henry slowly copied his friends position, lowering his chin and resting it like he was falling asleep in class. “He had a Grateful Dead t-shirt on...and I thought he was the coolest guy.” Pete lazily smiled, looking a little whacked-out with charm as he always did when he was joyful. It was contagious. Especially to Henry. 
He’d always been softly fond of Pete Moore. 
“I gotta pee.” Pete made the move to get up. 
“Hold it.” Henry smirked, teasing him slightly but also not wanting to break whatever this fun little moment was. 
Pete cocked his head as if too amused with that comment to actually speak it into words. 
“-I’ve seen enough brown puddles today, go to the bathroom.” Beaver cut in from behind them and happily bounced over to the table. Jonesy just bounding over from the escalator. 
“He has to pee, Beav. You sick freak.” Henry stole Jonesy’s coke and took a long sip as Pete pushed little man’s shoulder on his way to the bathroom. Beaver broke out into hysteric laughter and ate the leftovers on Pete’s tray. 
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{A muffled version of Help Is on It’s Way by The Little River Band playing over those loudspeakers}
They’d managed to split up in all possible pairs before Henry and Pete landed together again. 
Pete was strolling along the shiny pink railings and dodging large plastic leaves from the potted plants as he walked the length of the floor. Henry just followed behind him and occasionally next to him if he was able to catch up, that is. 
Pete was a little in his head and had been that way since their snack break. But it didn’t stop him from roaming around the Mall as if he hadn’t been coming there since they were kids. He’d unzipped his sports jacket and revealed his old NASA t-shirt that was littered with faded stars behind a long rocket.
Henry was quietly enjoying the next time he ended up able to match Pete’s speed when he noticed some guy in a ‘I Love a Rainy Night’ shirt just down by the anchor store of their wing. 
The guy seemed to be observing someone behind them with an expression of interest. It was only when they were in talking distance that Henry noticed the man was looking at Pete, who was far too deep in that mind of his to notice.
Henry wondered if they’d have to jump-start Beaver’s car to get outta the parking-lot this time. 
The dude glanced down at Pete’s T-shirt just as his friend came-round from his little daze and halted. 
“I think you might be a star, because I can't stop orbiting around you.” Eddie Rabbitt’s fan flicked his tongue and Pete’s cheeks no longer needed the mall light’s to glow pink. He seemed uncharacteristically at a loss for words. 
Henry had to blink himself out of his own daze. He’d never seen a man so bluntly try to ‘pick-up’ another man...let alone Henry’s friend. 
“Ha...” Pete looked at the patch of odd carpet they were standing on and scratched at his neck. 
The man seemed to notice something that Henry didn’t and nodded his head. “Sorry, look...I thought you were someone else..” He mumbled awkwardly and went to walk off. He was a little ways a way when he turned back and gestured out behind him. “Can you tell me where the Sears is?” 
Henry opened his mouth but Pete shuffled over and pointed off. 
As Pete approached, the guy’s face quickly became apologetic. “Hey, look...I’m such an idiot. I didn’t even think about the fact that you might not even be um- out to your friend over there.” He frowned, in a whispered tone. 
An odd flash of strong emotion punched Pete in the stomach. He blinked towards the floor and grouped his hands together, pressing them against his lips...a nervous little tick. “It’s...-” He flicked his hands out. “It’s fine.” He broke them apart and shrugged. 
“Hey, man...” The man sighed. “I know this can be a lonely...and scary thing but it ain’t because of the thing itself.” He ran his hand down his face. “It’s the situation. “I know that it feels heavy to you right now and you’re scared to lose your friends or be ridiculed for just being...who you are.” Eddie Rabbitt’s fan gestured and Pete widened his eyes a little. 
Henry was beginning to get antsy, wanting to know why it took so long to tell him where the Sears is.
“But you don’t need to settle for people who are going to treat you differently for that. There will always be people who love you for who you are and anyone else isn’t worth your time. You don’t need to hold this shit in just because you’re afraid to lose people who ain’t worth shit anyway.” He rolled his lips together. 
“It’s the fuckin’ eighties man...I’m hoping a more accepting time is coming.” He looked around the people passing them. “I didn’t mean to come on so strong with that support, buddy. But y’know, there isn’t much of that going around for us.” He playfully slapped Pete’s frozen arm. 
“Fuck man, I never really thought much of it.” Pete finally spoke. 
“I admire that.” He nodded. 
“Beaver giggled with me today...over a boy-...you that is.” Pete chuckled nervously. 
“Beaver-?” 
Pete waved his hand. “Oh it’s a nickname...for my other bisexual friend.” He laughed again. “He taught me the words.” He nodded to himself. “He taught them to me but I never really...appreciated them beyond...” He waved forward again. “Nodding along and rolling with it. Happy enough with the go-ahead that I could have more fun fooling around.” 
The guy smiled and opened his mouth.
“Though to be honest, I haven’t been ‘getting any’, y’know?” Pete chuckled. “I’m only a Junior in High-school...I mean, I kissed the Beav but that was just a tester. And Julie Winters and I made-out during spin-the-bottle once.” He spoke in a rushed tone. “I think...I may have feelings for this guy but....Jesus-Christ-bananas, Henry is gonna figure out I’m not just telling you where Sears is, huh?” He frowned. 
“Pete, by the way.” 
“Senior. Trevor.” He stuck out his hand which Pete shook. 
“My...” Pete looked back to Henry, who wiggled his nose to push up his glasses and shot him a nervous grin. “Best friends love me.” He bit into his lip but still managed a genuine closed-mouth grin, which was honestly more sincere than his toothy-smile sometimes. “And Sears is over there at the left end.” Pete happily snapped and flicked his fingers out. 
“Thank you, Pete.” Trevor mocked a salute and was off in just a few seconds. 
As he walked off, Henry strolled over and gave Pete an odd little curious face. He puckered his lips in a cute way and crossed his arms. Semi-distracting, in Pete’s opinion. 
He opened his mouth but Pete quickly jumped in with something smart-
“I’m holding in my pee.” He blurted out and instantly regretted it. 
Henry raised his brows and smirked.
“I just mean-...” Pete sighed. “I wanna talk. An hour ago, I feel like we were having this great conversation and I tried to get out of it by peeing.” He gestured back to the food-court. Henry only smiled, rubbing his curled finger against the tip of his nose. “But I won’t this time.” 
“I don’t want you to burst, Pete.” Henry chuckled. 
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The bathrooms were no escape from the neon lights and colors, though they were an exclusive club for painted fish wall-decorations. 
Henry was observing the way the colored bulbs bounced light over the fake scales of a miserable angelfish, one eye opened & his head cocked, while Pete’s stream of pee flowed behind his view. 
“So, we left off on Randy?” Henry leaned his head back on the tiny wall which separated the mirrors from the row of urinals. 
The stream turned into a trickle and then faded off with a zipper finale. Pete stood in-front of the urinal for a few seconds and listened to the muffled version of Fleetwood Mac playing throughout the Mall, just outside the doors. 
He hummed and leaned back on the same wall, just behind Henry’s side. “Yeah. We did. Remember the ginger-ale?” Pete playfully reached over his shoulder to tap wherever he assumed Henry’s arm was resting. Henry hummed back. 
Fleetwood Mac transitioned into a quiet Zombies song...’She’s Not There’...
The vocals seemed to bounce off those ugly yellow-plastic chairs which filled the sitting area outside. Henry turned so that his temple was what was resting on the wall and crossed his arms again. “I liked everything about Randy. He was older and cooler than us...” Pete spoke much softer. “The first time we went cruisin’ in his old car, his cup-holders were all sticky from coke residue and we were all singing along to ‘Stand by Me’...and that was my favorite fucking day ever.” 
Henry watched Pete come ‘round from behind him and plop down onto the counter, covering the ‘No Smoking’ sign. “Douglas was there and he was singing with us. He kept repeating the same lines and it was way damn better than the actual song.” Pete chuckled at the memory. 
Henry nodded, smiling too. 
“I somehow thought Randy was responsible for creating that day and making it so special. It had been his car, after all? And he’d looked so fucking cool driving with the sun-set and shit. But it was the five of us, really. That was my real favorite part.” Pete gestured between them. “But...I was kinda gone on Randy back then, just didn’t really know it. Probably why I experimented with Beaver when I first recognized my feelings for dudes, huh?” 
Henry pursed his lips. “Maybe. Subconsciously.” He nodded and Pete was expecting more from him. “I didn’t know you had feelings for dudes...” He coughed awkwardly. 
Pete nodded, that shy smile came out again. “Yeah. Me and The Beav both.” He shrugged, looking up at the fish painted above Henry’s head. 
Henry pushed his glasses up his nose and smiled, softly. “So, are you-?”
“Bisexual is the term that Beaver taught me. Means I’m into boys & girls. Same with him.” Pete narrowed his eyes in thought and hopped off the counter. He started to stroll out of the bathroom and back out to the brighter world of the Moon-Park Mall. 
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{A muffled version of Thirteen by Big Star playing over the loudspeakers}
Pete and Henry silently glide down towards the first floor by way of escalator, music playing but no words exchanged. 
“By the way, my-’not talking in thirty minutes’-is a show of support.” Henry playfully yet awkwardly bumped their arms together just before they hopped off and dodged the play-train as it rolled past. Pete chuckled and shoved his fists deep into the pockets of his Derry Tigers jacket. 
“I figured.” Pete shook his head with a smile. “Process it, H.” He shrugged. 
Henry nodded. They walked towards the video-store and exchanged a few nervous glances. 
“You experimented with Beav?” Henry blurted as they past a few quarter-swallow’s, as Beaver called the little machines which popped out gumballs and shit. Pete nodded and Henry hummed for the millionth time. “But it wasn’t good?” 
“Nah. We’re not like that.” Pete stuck out his tongue in disgust. “That Randy thing is long-gone too. Just so you know.” 
Henry pursed his lips. “Cool.” 
Pete stopped walking and gave him a little-look. “Cool?” He raised his brows and Henry smiled. 
“Cool.” 
Pete did a little mini-shrug of surprise and giddiness. “Cool.” He repeated, more to himself. 
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Beaver was making Jonesy tie his shoe for him and glancing around at the videos on the shelves, a smile on his face. 
“Do you ever get the feeling that horror films are becoming far too cliche?” Jonesy mumbled as he finished tying. They were standing in-between the horror aisle and the classics. “I think they need to make something crazy. Fucking aliens or some shit coming to earth and killing you from the inside-out.” He chuckled. 
Beaver shook his head. “Oh, you are so the boy for me.” He chuckled, knowing all-too well that Jonesy didn’t hear a thing. 
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Can’t make you love me (E.D.)
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Summary: Being only friends with a guy you’re in love with is hard enough, but seeing him make out with another while missing her birthday reminds Y/N why she doesn’t celebrate birthdays.
Warnings: best friend fluff, angst and swearing
Word count: ~ 2000
Part 2  Part 3
I looked around, spinning in circles with a wide smile on my lips. Trying to take it all in, I giggled loudly before swinging my arms around Grayson in gratitude. Not only did he manage to surprise me with a birthday party, but he also decorated their entire house in my favorite color, blue, and fairy lights as he knows I love sparkly things.
„Gosh, you're really going for the best friend award of the year!“ I squealed, untangling myself from my best friend in the whole white world. He always gave the biggest, warmest hugs! It's also why I call him Gray-bear.
„I just wanted your sweet twenty to be SWEET!“ Grayson exclaims, returning my smile with one of his own, happy I enjoyed this night as I insisted on no parties for months now.
„You're just...I love you Gray bear“, I felt my eyes water, so I rubbed them lightly to stop any tears from falling.
„Are you actually crying?“ Grayson couldn't help but tease me, swaying his body left-right to make me laugh.
„I never cried because I'm happy before.“ I admit before adding with an index finger pointed at his chest: „No one can know this happened!“
Grayson raises his hands in mock surrender, nodding.
„My lips are sealed.“
Content with his answer, I hook my arm with his and walk into the small crowd while carefully examining each face.
Grayson leans in and whispers:
„He's not here yet.“
„Who?“ I tried to play dumb, but Grayson could see right through me. He knew before I did: I loved his brother. And not in a brotherly way like I loved him, but the crazy for you – feel my heart is gonna burst – want to marry you sort of a way.
„Ethan will be here soon. He's coming back from New Jersey, remember?“ Grayson reminds me and I nod, tight-lipped and slightly dejected.
Ethan stayed back to deal with the skate park building while Grayson flew back to prepare everything for their video – and my birthday, I suppose.
„That's okay. I got you!“ Kissing his chin quickly, I wink and pull him by his shirt to the center of the room.
We danced like two crazy people, neither able to keep up with the beat and Grayson's neck getting all stiff as Ethan once pointed out. Once you notice he does it, you cannot forget it.
After an hour, completely drenched in sweat with make up smudging, I was in dire need for refreshments. Grayson plopped on the couch while I maneuvered through the crowd and went toward the pool house, knowing Grayson left extra supplies over there. After all, the kitchen was swarming with people, some I barely knew since the party gradually grew.
Just as the fresh air hit me, giving me goosebumps and cold sensations all over my body, I freeze.
Parked in front of the house, leaned on the hood of a car stood Ethan.
And he wasn't alone.
A girl stood between his thighs, his hands grabbing at her hips and pulling her in like she was the air he so desperately needed. She held his face in her hands, a pleasurable moan escaping her as Ethan tilts his head left and I finally see his eyes are closed.
It felt like someone knocked the very breath out of me. My heart was beating a mile a minute, breaking with each second that passed into pieces that would never quite fit perfectly again. I felt emotionally bankrupt. There was nothing left to feel, nothing left to say, nothing left but the void that enveloped my mind in swirling blackness.
Turning on my heel, I walk into the house without lifting my head. I walk like a zombie, ice running through my veins, chilling me to the bone. It was like drowning in a frozen lake; I’m pounding through the ice to get to the surface for a breath of fresh air, but the coldness penetrates deep inside, chaining me to the water all the while pulling me under.
I stood still in the hallway, staring at my own feet feeling lost.
A hand on my shoulder snaps me back to reality and I’m met with Grayson’s concerned face.
„You okay there, little one?“ He always joked about my height although I wasn't THAT short at all. I always smiled and rolled my eyes when he called me that, but I couldn't muster up enough strength to do so at the moment and he knew...he knew I was broken.
Without a question, Grayson cups my face and bores his eyes into mine, his intense stare forming a small bubble of sorts where only he and I were allowed to be inside.
„Who do I need to murder in cold blood?“ Those words elicit a broken laugh on my behalf, a tear escaping me as the sound fills our little bubble.
„It's nothing. Just...me being stupid.“ I sniffle, licking my bottom lip while averting my gaze to the left.
Grayson follows my eyes, craning his neck to keep eye contact at all costs.
„I called you to help me figure out how to turn on the dishwasher...can't get worse than that. Hit me.“ Grayson raised his eyebrows, expecting an answer and I knew I had to respond.
„Ethan is out there, latched onto some girl and I just...“ I couldn't stop my bottom lip from quivering, hating myself for being so pathetic.
„I just wanted him with me for my stupid birthday. THIS IS EXACTLY WHY I DON'T CELEBRATE THEM.“ I shout, trying to free myself from Grayson's arms and to my surprise he lets me. I didn't even look at him for a reaction, opting to pace around him while my brain spontaneously combusted in the process.
„And I was going to ask him how he feels tonight! HOW STUPID AM I? Why did I ever think I ever had a chance?! He sees me as his annoying friend to tease about how uptight I am.“ I kept rambling, getting dizzy while walking in circles until Grayson grabbed a hold of me, steadying me before letting me stand on my own in order to prevent me from fainting.
„I know you've been into him for years, Y/N. I see the way you look at him and how you go out of your way to help him whenever he needs you. And I know my brother...unless you do confess, he'll never admit to feeling anything and HE DOES feel something for you. He does! Just be honest with him. Okay?“ Grayson believed he was talking some sense into me, but I was losing it internally.
I nod in response before giving him a short hug.
„Please get me something to drink?“ I ask sweetly, blinking a little faster than usual.
„I hate when you do that! It's like puppy eyes, but cuter!“ Grayson groans, leaving me to my own thoughts.
I sneak to the backyard, opening the door to leave. I couldn't do it. I wouldn't.
I needed time to heal before letting myself see Ethan again without crying. I loved what Grayson did for me, but Ethan didn't even bother showing up for my birthday?! He literally sat outside and made out with some girl and I was the last thing on his mind. Even if he didn't like me, I was supposed to be his best friend. And it hurt to know I wasn't a priority in his book. It hurt to know I wasn't important enough to even come in and say hi.
After all, I can keep being there for him and prioritize him over anything, but that won't help me. I can't make him love me. It's the bitter truth I needed to face.
**
„Hey, where's Y/N?“ Ethan finally stumbled upon his brother, looking a little worried. But his worrisome face didn't even match the look on Grayson's.
„She disappeared completely. I can't find her anywhere, E.“ Grayson talked fast and panicked, the glass in his hand shaking.
„Why the fuck would she disappear from her own party?!“ Ethan rolled his eyes, annoyed more than worried now.
Grayson's face contorts into a scowl, narrowing his eyes at Ethan.
„She saw you making out with some chick out there and she ran the fuck off with a broken heart you asshat!“ Grayson let the secret spill and upon that realization, both brother's stared at one another with wide eyes.
„Why would that even matter? Broken heart? What are you talking about?! Have you been drinking?“ Ethan rambles, trying to ignore the pang in his heart he couldn't understand. He didn't know what it meant, only that he didn't like the feeling.
„Because she loves you and you broke her heart!“
„Nonsense! You're speaking nonsense! We're just friends. Look, I'll text her right now!“
To: Dove – Even seeing the nickname he had secretly put for her in his phone and mind made his chest constrict.
Where r u? I wanna wish u a happy b-day!!
It didn't take a second for three dots to appear in the bottom, indicating Y/N was writing a message. Ethan smirked, making Grayson roll his eyes this time around.
From: Dove
Home. I'm not feeling well.
Although Ethan would be packing and going to the store to get her something to recuperate, he didn't buy the excuse. He needed an explanation. But his phone lit up again and his heart dropped to the floor.
From: Dove
I need some time for myself. I'll call you guys when I find some peace of mind. Love you.
Grayson sat down, running his fingers through his hair with frustration. But Ethan could only focus on that 'Love you' part of her text, over analyzing every word and every memory he had of her.
„You really had to make out with someone tonight? Instead of being here for her?!“ Grayson bit his lower lip, trying hard to contain his anger as it bubbled to the surface.
„You're being ridiculous. I'm going over to see her and give her my gift and you'll see you totally misread the situation.“
He didn't wait for Grayson to stop him, practically running to his car. His legs made him hurry to lessen the time between seeing Y/N and making sure she's alright. He needed her to be alright. And more importantly, he needed to know if Grayson told him the truth. Did she truly love him? If she did, could he possibly salvage their friendship? Was this the end of everything?
Those questions left him almost paralyzed in fear in front of her house. He never had issue knocking on her door before, but this time his knock held a deeper meaning.
He walked to her door with fists forming, knocking exactly eight times until she opened the door without even checking who was on the other side.
She stopped short, drawing in a sharp breath at the sight before her; Ethan with a large, blue bag and blue roses in hand.
Her favorite color and favorite flower.
„You really need to check the door before opening, hon.“ He smiles, hoping to see one in return. But he doesn't.
Y/N doesn't move her eyes from him, but she doesn't say anything and that alone makes him uneasy. This is a girl that never stops talking and she was so quiet it gave him chills.
„I didn't meant to be so late tonight. I just...I'm sorry okay? I really messed up and I promise to make it up to you.“ Ethan was the only one speaking until Y/N raised her hand, palm turned to him, stopping him from talking.
„I know he told you. I see it in your eyes. You pity me...You want to make sure we're still friends?“ Y/N gnaws on her inner bottom lip and it's visible to Ethan's watchful eye who was taking great care in noticing any changes in her facial expressions. Her dejected, even irritated tone had told him she was not only hurt but angry as well.
„Is it true? Do you?“ Ethan asks quietly, swallowing thickly. He's terrified of her answer more than anything else in this world. Time stands still and the world stops moving as her lips part to give him the answer he both needs and fears.
„Ethan, I can't make you love me. But I need some space to heal. I'm thankful you took time to come here and give me these,“ She takes the presents from his hands without so much as glancing at them.
„And I hope you realize I do want to keep our friendship. Just give me time.“
'Have I lost her forever?' All his fears came to life.
Ethan wanted to speak, to say any damn thing. His lips opened and closed, but no sound left his lips. There was nothing he could say as his brain went dark when she told him she couldn't make him love her. She admitted her feelings. He completely shut down and there wasn't a single coherent thought inside his mind.
„Goodnight.“
So, she closed the door still unsure if their friendship will survive this, leaving an utterly confused Ethan outside her door with a single question arising inside his heart and mind: Do I love her too?
Tags: @accalialionheart @xalayx
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ironspiidey · 5 years
Text
Superheros get Bullied too Chapter 2!
Chapter 1 
Chapter 2: Harley Stark & the Bully
Read on AO3
Oh don’t worry Mr. Thompson is never going to make that mistake ever again once we’re through with him.”
Peter and Harley whip their head around to see Tony Stark walking towards them. “Sweater. Now” Harley mumbled under his breath and stepped in front of Peter meeting the older man
Peter nodded and slipped the hoodie over his head
“Hey Mr. Stark” both boys said nervously, looking at each other and then at the man in question.
“Hello boys.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “What are…uh you doing here Mr. Stark?” Peter stammered and looked back to his locker trying to remember which books he may need because from the unimpressed look on the older man’s face it was clear they would not be coming back after lunch.
“Yeah! I thought you wanted me to grab Peter and his school stuff then wait out front for you or Happy?” Harley asked curiously, attempting to hide his nerves and praying that Tony didn’t hear the last bit of his and Peter’s conversation.
Mr. Stark smirked at how nervous they were and clasped a hand on Harley’s shoulder. “Relax. I’m not upset, yet. I needed to make sure Mr. Thompson didn’t try to cause any more trouble today. “
“Oh trust me, he wouldn’t have gotten away with it…”
Tony gave Harley a stern look but Peter piped up before he could form a response “Yes! Because we would have alerted a teacher and called you of course to—Mr. Stark” Peter said, his rate of speech going a mile a minute which made the older man smile softly despite himself. Peter was just too cute when he was anxious.
“Ye—yeah exactly. “ Harley tried to give a convincing smile in his uncle’s direction
“Bullshit, I know you both too well to know that would be the last thing you’d do.”
Peter grabbed his AP books and shut his locker “I would have called you regardless.” He mumbled looking at his backpack as he struggled with the zipper, long since worn but Peter hated to get rid of it. Uncle ben gave him this bag the year he died.
“Oh I don’t doubt that Petey. However I do doubt that Harley would simply let it go without a fight. We really should replace this.” Tony let go of Harley and leaned forward helping Peter with the zipper.
“I don’t wanna get rid of it.”
“Sweetie it’s about ready to fall apart.” Tony said softly, temporarily forgetting where they were.
“It’s important to me and I want to keep it.”
“Um guys, hate to break up this moment but uh people are staring.” Harley says nervously.
Peter coughs awkwardly and slings his backpack over his shoulder and looked around seeing students once again staring and talking about him.
Tony puts his hand between Peter’s shoulder blades and nods to his nephew. “Lead the way kid.”
Once Harley starts walking ahead of them, Tony whispers “This okay Petey?”
Peter nods, the feeling of Tony touching him makes him feel safe, grounds him. “Yeah. It helps. As long as you don’t mind the whispers.”
Tony couldn’t help but chuckle “I’m Tony Stark, I live for the whispers”
Peter grins and leans more into his touch. “Let’s go home.”
They were able to get down the stairs and onto the main floor before somebody spoke up. “Oh my god it’s Tony Stark!!!”
Peter and Harley both wince, the latter walking more forcefully “Coming through, idiots move out of the way. Yes its Tony Stark but fuck off and let us through.”
Despite Peter’s anxiety and worrying about Flash appearing, he couldn’t help but smile at Harley’s attitude, just like his Uncle; sassy and straight to the point. Not taking no for an answer.
“Language Harley.” Tony stated despite being proud of the younger man for trying to keep people away. This was still a high school and last thing they needed was for someone to report his nephew and delay their exit by a teacher.
All of a sudden they here Peter gasp and freeze. Tony and Harley turn in look in the direction Peter was and see Flash Thompson storming up to him with a face of absolute anger.
Harley starts to lose it, Peter couldn’t get one hour away from that dumb jock. He started to storm in front of Peter and towards the bully but was pulled back when Tony grabbed his hood. “Ah ah Nephew. Let him come forward.”
Harley looked pissed but nodding, clearly his uncle had a plan. He stood in front of Peter and whispered. “Don’t worry Parker, we got you.”
Peter gulped, looking at Flash it was clear he didn’t see Tony but that was what scared him most. If he didn’t see him that means he was going to act his normal self and Tony Stark was not going to be pleased with it.
“Oh is Parker your new boyfriend Harley? That why your boys tried to threaten me?!” Flash hollers as he makes his way to them.
“Not mine no.”
“Then why in the hell are you protecting that faggot.”
Before Harley could form a response, Tony growled. Actually growled which Peter will deny but he found it extremely hot. Tony pats Peter on the shoulder and walks around both boys. Stopping only when he was in front of Flash. “Well you see Mr. Thompson. That ‘faggot’ happens to be a family friend and Harley happens to be my nephew so I asked him politely to keep an eye on Peter as I know some people tend to be rude to him but what I failed to realize was that William’s oldest was going to be one of those kids terrorizing my poor Peter.”
Flash’s eyes widen and he starts sputtering. He didn’t see his father’s employer, too focused on Peter. ”Mr. Stark. Sir. I didn’t realize you were there.”
“So it’s only okay when I’m not here?”
“Sir of course not.. Did you know that Peter has been lying saying he works for you?” Flash attempts to change the subject while eyeing Peter with a smirk.
“Well Mr. Thompson he doesn’t work for me yet but hopefully after he graduates he will be working for SI.” Tony smiles at Peter, to which Peter blushes.
“Hah! I knew it was bullshit! I even got-.”
“Not so fast.” Tony rolls his eyes. “As I was saying, Peter may not be a paid employee of SI but he is however an intern. Has been for over a year now. “
Flash smile falls right off his face. Then he looks from Harley to Peter to Mr. Stark “you’re just saying that because Peter is Harley’s boyfriend!”
Tony’s eyebrows raise up “Excuse me?”
“Flash for the love of god give it a rest.” Peter says exasperated. “What is it going to take for you to realize I’m not fucking lying?? The Tony Stark literally just told you I’m his intern. What your going to need to see me in the flesh there to believe it?”
“Well I’ve never seen a badge in your bag or with you. That building is secure, all employees require one. Intern or otherwise.” Flash crosses his arms.
Harley’s eyes widen in shock and despite his uncles orders he grabs flash by the collar and slams him into a locker “You went through Parkers stuff? You’re sick Thompson. I should beat your fucking ass.”
“Harley! Let go of him please. “
“He’s a piece of shit. “ Harley growls
“Harley please let him go. He’s not worth it.” Peter sighs, knowing Harley may have just cost him his Bike project.
Harley let go of the other teen reluctantly. Peter had been through a shit day and he wasn’t going to make it worse. “Watch yourself Thompson.”
Flash rolls his eyes “and here I thought you would hold the pants in the relationship. Not so tough when your prissy boyfriend tells you what to do. “
Tony rolls his eyes “being an absolute prick is not very becoming Mr. Thompson. Stay away from Peter or you can say goodbye to being able to work alongside your father on Sundays anymore.”
“You know about those?” Flash’s eyes widen
“Of course I do. I know all when it comes to my company and otherwise” Tony slips his glasses on “We will be in contact later Mr. Thompson. You think I would lie to help my nephew’s boyfriend?” Tony leans forward and whispers the next part in his ear. “Peter is with a Stark but not Harley.”
“C’mon boys, let’s go get some lunch. We have serious planning to do.”
Peter and Harley nod “Coming Mr. Stark.”
Tony stops just in front of the entrance doors, holding the door open for the boys. “Oh and Mr. Thompson? It’s a shame you pick on those who are out of the closet when you’re not. “
Flash gaps at the man and sputters as people around him start mumbling around him. “I’m not gay!!!” ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- “So that’s it? Just a friendly stay away from me talk?” Peter asks hopefully between mouthfuls of Chinese.
Harley snorts around his noodles “I really doubt it.”
Tony smiles watches both boys eat. Taking a drink of some protein shake Peter demanded he start drinking. “You would be right Harley, this is just the beginning.”
Peter sighs “Tones… “
“I’m sorry Petey but he can’t and will not get away with being mentally abusive to you. He should be thankful he hasn’t physically harmed you otherwise.” Tony licked his lips. “Well we won’t worry about that because it didn’t happen.”
Harley eyes Peter, Peter was always the shittiest liar and of course the redhead started coughing on his chicken. “You alright Pete?”
Peter grabbed his drink and took a big gulp “um yeah fine. Perfectly fine.” He swallowed and slid his chair away from the table. “Bathroom.” Is all he said then practically ran down the hallway.
Tony watched him go worried then turned to Harley and seen him looking just as worried.
“What exactly happened today Harley.”
“I already told you, Flash was absolute knob, Peter lost his cool. Flash tried to stop him from walking away and Peter made a fool outta him then went to class.”
“Right, But there’s more to it. I’m not stupid.” Tony scratches his chin in thought. About 2 minutes pass before his eyes widen. “ You said Flash tried to stop him”
The blonde nodded nervously. “Yep.”
“How did he try that exactly?”
Harley licked his lips pushed his food around his plate and didn’t say anything
“Harley.”
Harley just looked at his uncle, not saying anything but still saying plenty enough. Tony jumped up and ran down the hall.
“Well fuck me, so much for not being here when the shit hit the fan. “ Harley sighed and leaned back, looking up at the ceiling.
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ahomeganeyatsu · 5 years
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Ran Off in the Night (Part 7)
“Wow, who pissed in your coffee this morning and made you drink it?” Arthur’s voice interrupted him as he tried to get his binder from his locker.
Lucas took his eyes off from what he was doing to give his spectacled-friend the full view of his unimpressed look before returning his attention to his locker. There were many variations of it, dependent on the level of his shit-o-meter.
“Yikes, little Lulu’s quite in a mood today.” Arthur remarked to someone. He still sounded like he found it amusing, but there was also a smidgeon of concern there.
“You think?” Yann replied. He had arrived with Basile and the three of them exchanged fist bumps. They left the curly-haired teen hanging once again. It was a running joke in their group, none of them really planned it but they still found themselves agreeing to it. “The hoodie’s a dead-giveaway.”
“Yeah, Lucas, did you get the wrong size or something?” Basile asked, his face folded in a baffled expression. He never had seen Lucas in clothes not his size. He always dressed good and that’s saying something when Lucas had clothes that were the same thing only in several different colors (grey, blue, white and black). He was also the type who managed to look good in a pair of joggers for goodness sake. How unfair was that?
Lucas wore 24’s hoodie to school today. He was still unsettled from the dream and this was the only thing that managed to calm him down. The scent of its owner has faded a bit, and Lucas has worn it long enough that his own smell had mixed with the hoodie. It was kind of nice. And he still hadn’t figured out why that was. 24 still hadn’t shown his ridiculously beautiful gorgeous dumb face again.
Something Lucas was ambivalent about.
On one hand, he wished he was here so Lucas could get answers. On the other, he would rather not have the guy see him wearing his hoodie to school. He seemed like the kind of guy who would feel incredibly proud of it. Lucas wasn’t going to feed his ego. No, siree.
“You could have gotten it swapped in the right size. Unless it was online and you lost the receipt so you couldn’t exchange it?” Basile was saying and Lucas resolved not to deign his question with an answer.
“Don’t you have a class to get to?” he said instead, slamming his locker shut and locking it quickly.
Arthur and Yann exchanged a glance but both shrugged as they had no answer for Lucas’ mood. They didn’t press him, for now. They already understood that the more they asked the more he would shy away and close off. And none of them wanted that.
“See you guys at lunch then, come on Basile.” Yann waved for the boy to come along. Basile still looked confused but followed after, throwing a “Later” to Lucas and Arthur.
“One of these days, you’re gonna tell us what’s bothering you Lulu.” Arthur draped his arm over Lucas’ shoulder and ruffled his hair. “But for now, did you read up on the topic today?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be our resident nerd?”
Arthur flicked his hand dismissively. “Psh. My glasses may be real but my eyes haven’t been damaged from studying.” He sounded oddly proud of that but Lucas refrained from pointing it out.
“Why aren’t you asking Alex? Isn’t she supposed to be your partner?”
“Like you’ve asked Imane.” The look on his face begged Lucas to tell him he was wrong. And Arthur knew Lucas’ answer to that.
“Hey, at least I know why I haven’t talked to my partner. She’s fucking scary,” he explained. There was no debating that. It was fact. A truth that became absolute to whoever has encountered Imane Bakhellal. “Compared to that, Alex’s more approachable.”
“She also forgets to do our assignments 50-percent of the time,” Arthur pointed out.
“Like you’re any better,” Lucas scoffed.
This time Arthur tugged at his hair and Lucas squawked, elbowing him in retaliation.
  To Q:
You’re not entertaining clients on Wednesday are you?
 From Q:
For you mon loulou, I’ll clear my schedule. Did you need something in particular? My services aren’t cheap you know! But I can always give you a discount ;)
 To Q:
Even if you did give me a discount, I still can’t afford the services you provide. I’ll do manual labor like last time.
 From Q:
That’s always a pleasure.
 To Q:
Ugh. PLEASE. STOP. Don’t make it sound weird.
 From Q:
Hey, not my fault your mind’s in the gutter.
Gotta go, duty calls. See you mon petit chou!
 To Q:
Yeah, yeah see—
 “Who are you texting?”
Lucas jumped in his seat, his phone almost flying from his hand if he hadn’t fumbled to catch it. His heart was beating a mile a minute in chest. He turned in his seat to look to his side and saw Imane standing beside him, smirking a bit.
“Fuck, Imane. Did you really have to scare me like that?” he glared at her.
The smirk disappeared and the impassive no-bullshit face slams back on. “Do you really have to be so grumpy all the time? It’s not my fault you’re a jumpy kitten.” She took her seat beside him and plopped her bag in front of her. Lucas almost groaned. Was Mika’s pet name for him spreading to the girls? They were Manon’s friends and Mika hung out with them once in a while. He wouldn’t put it past Mika to tell the girls just to tease him. “I was going to give you a gift,” she continued as he brought out her text book. “But I changed my mind.”
“A gift, really?” a crease formed on his forehead.
“Yeah, but I’m not giving it to you,” Imane repeated. “You had your chance.” Okay, Lucas would be stupid not to admit he was curious. What kind of gift would Imane even get him? But Imane was a mountain, strong and unmovable. So, when she said she won’t give it, she wasn’t going to give it.
He finished the message he had been typing and sent it. He slid his phone back into his bag and took out his book. The page they were going to be doing was already on the board. He flipped through it lazily to get to the page, his mind wandering to the common room. He still hadn’t figured out why 24 showed up in the common room of all places. Maybe— no, that would be stupid. But what if, right? What if the room had some special properties that could summon 24?
The thought was as ridiculous as it sounded but he at least had to venture on that idea. See if it pans out before dismissing it. He glanced at Imane. There was no harm in asking.
“Hey, Imane,” he started. Imane hummed to tell him she was listening. “Do you have more meetings planned for the common room?”
This made Imane pause in her reading and place her attention on Lucas. “Like you care about it now?”
“Well, no.” She cocked a brow at him. “I mean, it’s just a good idea, that’s all.”
Imane hummed and turned back to the textbook. “And to be honest, the first meeting wasn’t as bad as it seemed,” he added, returning his own attention to his own textbook and frowned at the exercise. Shit, he may have read up on the wrong topic.
“There’s another meeting on Wednesday noon, if you want to join,” Imane told him.
He hasn’t sent Q what time he’ll be dropping by on Wednesday, so it’s safe to come. Lucas nodded. “Okay, I’ll be there.” He started skimming over the page to get a clue what they’ll be doing. He wasn’t terribly lost on the topic, so that was good.
“Okay, fine. You can get your gift,” Imane sighed and she flicked her eyes below their table.
Lucas turned his eyes down and saw that in Imane’s hand, there lies the packet of weed that he had lost in Emma’s party a week ago. His eyes widened, “Oh yes girl! You’re the boss!” he muttered excitedly.
“Hurry up, I’m not gonna sit like this for the whole class.”
The blue-eyed teen took his bag, then the weed in Imane’s hand but before he could slide it in the pockets, Madam Rigaux called for their attention.
“What are you two up to?”
Lucas was frozen. Shit. They were going to get caught. He was going to get caught with weed in his hand. Fuck.
“Nothing,” Imane’s voice snapped him out and Lucas mimicked her words, turning to her with wide panicked eyes. Imane was acting as cool as a cucumber and Lucas really did admire her for being able to act as if Lucas wasn’t holding a packet of weed in his hand, and this won’t get them suspended, if not expelled.
“What are you hiding under the table?”
Everyone was looking at them. All ready to see the latest drama getting dished out in Madam Rigaux’s class.
“Nothing at all,” Imane replied, flipping through the textbook. He hadn’t even noticed that she had her hand tucked in her bag. “I was just looking for something in my bag.”
Madam Rigaux started walking towards them and Lucas tried to keep his cool. But he had never been good under pressure. He tried not to fidget in his seat, not to look at his hand where he was clutching the packet of weed, and fucking breathe, Lallemant. Keep it together! He subtly slid the packet of weed in one of the open pockets and zipped it back close.
“Imane, do you think I’m stupid? Let me see.” Madam Rigaux was right behind Lucas, her hand extended for Imane to give her whatever she was hiding.
Lucas turned to Imane, looking to see what she’ll do. And Imane. Imane slammed something on the table. At first, it made no sense. What the hell did she just put on their table? But the split-second shock wore off and Lucas did a double-take because he knew what those are. He had seen it in the flat’s bathroom and in his old home. The guts of this girl. Imane Bakhellal just slammed tampons on our fucking table.
And Lucas was staring at Imane, blue-eyes screaming what the fuck woman. He nearly protested when Imane said he bought them for her. No words come out though. He still can’t believe Imane just did that.
Once Mada Rigaux had backed off and Imane was done ranting how humiliated she was, as if she hadn’t just showed Madam Rigaux up like the boss she was. He glanced at Imane and met her dark eyes. Lucas tried to stop the smile breaking out on his face. But the smug look on Imane’s face was enough to dash his efforts. He hid his face behind his hand, lest Madam Rigaux sees them. A giggle bubbled out of his throat and Imane was snickering right next to him.
Okay, Imane was definitely the boss.
   Lucas’ stomach ached from laughter as Alexia had finished reading out one of the surveys in her hand.
“W-Wait, can I see that?” he asked wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. Alexia handed him the survey and he quickly glanced at the number. He didn’t even need to read all of it out. The scribble was familiar enough for him to know who this was. “Uh,” he coughed. “So, girls, this is Basile’s number.”
“No, seriously, what is up with him? How come he’s interested in me now?” Daphne asked frustrated. “Like the other day I caught him staring at me and actually drooling. I could feel his eyes on me from a 100 meters away,” she gesticulated and shuddered, “It was a nightmare.”
They couldn’t help but laugh at the look on Daphne’s face. Lucas was not even going to defend Baz. The guy has some problems expressing his feelings that tend to creep a girl out. Even with Yann, Arthur and his guidance, Baz still had a long way to go. He just hoped his friend would tone it down or else he’ll lose all his chances with Daphne.
They read a few more, getting a couple more laughs when they read the one from Alexia and Emma came back in with a scowl on her face.
“What’s going on?” Imane asked immediately noticing the change in girl’s mood.
“Alex is getting on my nerves. Apparently, I’ve been telling people we were going out,” she rolled her eyes and pocketed her phone.
Whoops. Maybe Lucas shouldn’t have mentioned anything when he bumped into Alex last Monday. It wasn’t his fault he read the atmosphere wrong! He and Emma looked pretty close in her IG stories and posts that Lucas assumed there was something going on between them. Then again, he thought wolves were monogamous and look where Alex was. A fuckboy to the core.
He has half an ear open to the conversation. Eyes trained outside the courtyard. He might be friends with Alex and knew about his heritage but they still weren’t that close. Not the way he was close to the gang. He didn’t want to know too much about Emma’s relationship in fear of fucking it up like last time. They seem to be better these days and Emma was okay with him, but Lucas still hadn’t forgiven himself for what he did.
He was thinking of ways on how to make it up to Emma when he saw a familiar mop of unruly brown hair right through the window. “Okay, I gotta go girls. Here’s your form,” he handed the papers he had been holding to Alexia and he grabbed his bag, rushing out of the room. He didn’t even hear the girls saying bye to him.
He couldn’t have mistaken it. He knew he saw 24. He might not be sporting his usual black on black attire, exchanged for a brown jacket and an army green backpack of all things. But the gait, the hair—Lucas knew it as 24. He came out into the courtyard but before he could look around, the guys were right there.
They ask him if he was in the common room and he responded in the affirmative. Yann made a comment about him hanging out with the girls a lot and Basile butted in, asking if Daphne has said anything about him. Lucas was this close to telling him that he was creeping her out but figured he’ll have to discover it on his own, and so he just tells him “No”. He looked away from his friends, eyes darting all over the courtyard but 24— 24 was gone. He wasn’t there anymore.
Lucas wanted to stomp his feet in frustration. He can’t believe he missed him again. This was getting absolutely ridiculous! One moment he was there and the next he’s not. Stupid Teumessian fox analogy, why did he have to compare him to that damned fox?
Basile is still speaking but Lucas wasn’t paying any attention anymore. Arthur was telling him something but their words were all registering as gibberish to him. He was too hung up on the thought of 24 being here just a second ago and disappearing altogether again. He was still looking around, hoping to maybe somehow catch a tell-tale sign of him. Maybe he missed something? Maybe 24 was just teasing him? He had done it back in the bus stop, smooth fucker that he was. He might be doing it again now.
But then he heard that voice, and Lucas bit his tongue to prevent himself from saying anything offensive.
Chloe was there and this time accompanied by a friend. He can’t remember her name but he did remember Basile helping her out when she was puking her guts out in Emma’s kitchen sink.
“I’m fine,” he told her, voice devoid of any interest.
It wasn’t fazing her. She was still smiling. “Are you doing anything this Friday night? We were planning a party in Maria’s house. It’s nothing big, just an intimate gathering.” She was acting cool, like this was nothing big. Like this was totally normal. She was just asking a guy she made out with in a party two weeks ago that hasn’t responded to any of her messages.
Fuck, did he make a mistake accepting her friend request?
Should Lucas have not done that?
He wasn’t stupid or blind. He could read it as clear as day in her eyes that she wanted him to say yes, to accept the invitation. Then her eyes darted to his three dumbass friends behind him and said, “You guys could come too, obviously.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry but it’s really bad timing. I have something scheduled for Friday—” he could already see Chloe’s smile faltering and the look on her friend’s face was as close to the fuck oh shit no he has ever seen as she looked from Lucas to Chloe.
But Arthur, the great interjector, just put his hand on Lucas’ shoulder pulling him to the side and inserting himself, literally, into the conversation. “Okay. So no, no, no. We don’t have anything on Friday.” Lucas slowly turned to glare daggers at Arthur to shut up, Turturo. Who said he was talking about them having plans?  It was just him!  Him, Lucas, no one else! They could go to Chloe’s party for all he cared! Don’t drag him into this!
Arthur was displaying an incredible amount of imperviousness to his death glare. He was almost impressed. Almost. “We would love to come and we’re bringing booze.”
Chloe was already smiling again, spirits lifted from the acceptance of the invitation. “Ok, cool. We’ll send you the address. See you on Friday!”
Lucas gave her one of his fakest smiles that everyone else thought was real, “Cool.”
Their gaze followed the two girls as they left. When they were out of ear shot, Yann turned to Lucas. He looked a bit done with Lucas. “Come on, Lucas. What’s your problem?”
“What are you talking about?” he said. He felt tired all of a sudden. He wasn’t in the mood to talk anymore.
“I don’t know. Do you want us to stay between guys for the rest of our lives?”
“Lucas, you never say no to an ‘intimate gathering’ with a girl,” Basile added in. “Never!” He wanted to tell him that if he didn’t stop speaking like that he should definitely say goodbye to his chances with Daphne.
“Guys, Chloe and I saw each other a total of three times, four if you can’t this one, and she has been talking me ever since. It’s stressing me out.”
Basile threw up his hands like he couldn’t get why Lucas didn’t like that. Like getting stalked by a girl was the best thing that could ever happen in his life. He wanted to punch him so badly right now.
“Wait, wait.” Arthur slid in and pushed Basile to the side. “I don’t understand what’s going on. You’re my bro, but what’s going on in your head? She’s into you, dude!”
The words Are any of you even hearing what am I’m saying?! were at the tip of his tongue, jumping to be screamed. He didn’t though. He bit the inside of his cheek and tasted blood. He held the words in. They weren’t listening to him. They were just letting his words pass over their heads. What use was it to clear it up? They weren’t hearing him.
So, he kept quiet and looked away. He swallowed the words pooling in his mouth, focused on the metallic taste flooding his mouth.
His phone rang and he had never been more thankful to have an excuse to get away from them.
He just couldn’t deal with them right now.
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snickletastic · 6 years
Text
Definitely in a Creepy Way {Jason Todd x Reader}
warnings~ drinking, cursing, angst
summary~ jason and reader go out to a club for a date, but jealousy erupts when multiple women won’t stop flirting with jason
a/n~ i tried to make this long because i know i haven’t posted in awhile! i’m so sorry about that, i’ve been super busy with school. i hope everybody had an amazing holiday and happy 2018! i might try to write a new years story. also, i know the way the story is written is a bit confusing, so the beginning takes place after the middle part, and the last part is after the beginning (i know it’s confusing but i wanted to write in a different style for once, heheh)
“Go. Away.” You said through clenched teeth as Jason followed you down the hall. 
“It wasn’t my fault! Why are you always so mad at me? Are you on your period 24/7 or are you just a bitch?” Jason inhaled sharply the second he realized what he had just said, but it was too late and he couldn’t suck the words back in. 
“Excuse me?” you raised your voice, “That was completely un-fucking-called for! Why would you even say something like that!?” You pushed Jason as hard as you could but he didn’t budge.
“I-I’m sorry..that’s not what I meant to say-”
“Of course it wasn’t, but you said it anyways, you ass,” you ran into your room and slammed the door shut behind you, locking him out.
“I’m sorry, Y/N! I don’t know what got into me,” Jason leaned his head against the door and groaned at his own stupidity. He could smell his own breath as he panted, it reeked of alcohol. With the realization that he’s drunk, he hit his head against the door.
Jason had brought you to a club in the center of the city for a date. He figured it’d be a fun change of scenery from your usual restaurant and movie dates. The night was young, and Jason wanted to take you on his motorcycle. 
“Are you positive it’s safe?” you nervously crossed your arms as Jason held out his helmet.
“I wouldn’t let you near the motorcycle if it wasn’t 100% safe. I’m even giving you my helmet, I’ll use the spare one.”
“Are you sure? Yours looks so…expensive,” you examined it as he still held it out to you.
Jason noticeably got tired of your stalling and put the helmet over your head, “There, now you’re ready,” he gently hit your helmet and laughed.
You groaned and got on his bike as he put the spare helmet on. Before he got on the bike, he stopped and studied you. “What?” you asked. 
“You look like you belong on a playboy calendar,” he smiled.
“Stop ogling me. Let’s get to the club before it’s dark,” you rolled your eyes.
He finally got on the bike and started the engine. You wrapped your arms around his waist as tight as you possibly could, holding on for dear life. To tease you, he revved the engine a few times and laughed whenever you somehow managed to squeeze tighter.  
The ride to the club was surprisingly exhilarating, the wind in your hair was stimulating. The sound of the motorcycle was muted by the sound of the wind pounding against your helmet. After 5 minutes on the motorcycle, you didn’t even want to go to the club anymore. There was no place you’d rather be than on Jason’s motorcycle with your arms wrapped around him tightly, feeling him breathing. The streetlights were like giant fluorescent moons passing at 60 miles per hour. When Jason pulled into the parking space and turned the engine off, it was almost like a rude awakening to an intoxicating dream.
The sun was nearly gone, but the sky was still bright with an array of orange and yellows. Jason noticed you shiver lightly and quickly took off his leather jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders as the two of you approached the club entrance. The bouncer nodded at Jason and let you both in. 
As soon as you walked in, the noise of the music blared through your eardrums, and the lights shined purple and blue. Crowds of people were cattled together on the dancefloor, and couples sat in booths on the outskirts, mostly drinking or making out. The bar was crowded, but two stools were empty. Jason nodded his head towards the stools, saying something inaudible. You just shook your head yes and he slipped his arm around your waist, leading you through the crowds of people on the dancefloor, trying to get to the seats. 
As you walked through the mass, people kept bumping into your sides or stepping on your feet. A drunk girl broke from the crowd and wrapped her arms around Jason’s neck, trying to kiss him. He quickly jerked his head back and pushed her off of him, then proceeded to walk even faster, holding your hand as you trailed behind him. A dancing couple who were practically having sex broke your chain with Jason, and you immediately lost him in the crowd. You started to shuffled between people, trying to find him. The best thing to do was to get out onto the exterior, so you snaked through drunks and shady people. 
When you finally got out, you went over to the bar to wait for Jason. After about 5 minutes, he finally broke out of the hoard and gave you an awkward thumbs up when he saw you giggling to yourself. 
He walked over to you and gave you a kiss, “I tried looking for you, but that crazy drunk girl was stalking me through the crowd. I figured I’d lose her before coming out to the bar.”
You gave him a sweet smile and gently rubbed his arm,”Let’s just order a couple drinks, hm?”
The two of you walked over to the bar and sat down next to eachother.
“Excuse me,” Jason called out to the bartender, “Can I get a dry whiskey and a-,” he scratched his head and looked over to you. 
“A martini, please,” you told the bartender.
The bartender began to make your drink after he poured Jason a whiskey.
“A martini, huh?” Jason grinned at you as he swished his drink around in his glass.
“Pffft, I just ordered it for the olives,” you joked and Jason laughed as he took a sip of his drink.
The bartender set down your martini, “on the house, hun,” he winked and flashed you a smile. Jason choked on his whiskey as the man walked to the next customer down the bar. 
“Jason, I swear-”
“Who the hell does he think he is? He can clearly see that we’re together! What the fuck?” 
“Jason, don’t start. Don’t. Tonight is our date night, don’t let the dumb bartender ruin it, okay?” You assured him in a kind voice, trying to calm him down by holding his hand.
He contemplated his next action, but when he saw your face, he decided to leave the bartender alone,”Alright. But if he pulls that shit again-”
“I don’t think he will,” you kept trying to assure him.
Jason chugged the rest of his whiskey and flagged the other bartender down to pour him another. You ate the olives out of your martini, then proceeded to sip it. The two of you chatted for awhile, told eachother the stupidest jokes you could come up with, and told stories about stupid things your families have done over the years.
“And Damian started beating the guy with a banjo he took off of the shelves!” Jason laughed and you giggled.
“I’ve never heard of anyone trying to rob a music store before,” you sipped more on your drink.
“It was hilarious. When the police came, they had to pry the banjo off the guys head. It left a giant red line on his forehead, you can even see it in his mugshots,” Jason said through his laughter.
“What was th-,” before you could finish, a woman interrupted your conversation with Jason. She was wearing a short red dress with matching lipstick and heels, her blonde hair in a bun, and a cosmo in her right hand.
“Excuse me honey,” she said condescendingly as she reached across the bar to ring the bell for a bartender. You coughed awkwardly as she stood between you and your boyfriend. 
“You know what?” the blonde started, “Why don’t you go find another place to sit? Perhaps over there,” she pointed a finger at the other end over at the other end of the bar, where all of the creepy men were sitting and staring at drunk women dancing. 
You scoffed and she smirked then turned her head to face Jason, “Why don’t you ask this tramp to leave us alone? Hm?” she had humour in her voice, but she definitely wasn’t drunk. 
“Who do you think you are? That’s my boyfriend,” You said indignantly.
“Oh please, someone that looks like that would never hook up with the likes of you,” her words stung. You immediately grabbed your clutch and stormed out of the club, pushing through the crowds of drunks. 
“Y/N! Wait!” Jason got up to chase after you. The blonde went to grab his arm but he pulled it away, “Fuck off.”
You ran outside and the chilly air made you shiver as soon as it made contact with your skin. At the realization that Jason had too much to drink to drive you home, you stamped your foot in frustration before walking to the sidewalk. Jason eventually made it through the drunken crowds and outside where you were. He ran over to your side, but was unsure of what to say. 
“She was a drunken bitch, Y/N,” Jason rubbed his forehead.
You ignored him and attempted to flag down a taxi. One flew by, and you groaned. Jason put his hands in his pockets, ashamed that he was too intoxicated to drive you home. It didn’t even cross his mind earlier. Another taxi pulled over and the both of you got in. Jason texted Roy to pick up his motorcycle later. 
When the taxi finally pulled over to the mansion, you stepped out and walked as fast as you could without sprinting towards the steps. 
“Wait, can we talk about this?” Jason shouted.
“About what, Jason? The fact that I’m not pretty enough to be seen with you in public without whores throwing themselves at you?” You turned back around and stomped into the house.
Jason trailed behind you like a puppy, trying to find the correct words to string together but couldn’t find them.
You woke up the next morning still wearing the same dress and Jason’s leather jacket. Your heels were on opposite sides of the room, and when you went to pick them up, your reflection showed tear stains on your makeup. You sighed and put on clean clothes before preparing to face Jason after your dramatic drunk reaction. When you opened the door, Jason fell inwards onto your feet. 
“OH MY GOSH,” you screamed as he woke up and got himself off of the floor.
“Shhhhhhhhhh, no loud noises,” he whispered, “Y/N! We have to talk,” he said as he rubbed his head.
“Hungover?” You asked.
“Unfortunately,” Jason leaned against the doorway.
“Me too.” You half smiled.
Jason smiled at your smile before his face going blank again, “I’m so sorry about what happened last night, I would’ve told her off but-I mean i should have but I-,” Jason stuttered, “I had this speech all planned out while waiting outside of the door- I can’t believe i forgot it all.”
You laughed and gave him a hug, “I was just as drunk as you were, Jay,” you said into his shoulder, “It was just me being overdramatic.”
“I just want you to know, what I’m about to say is going to be the cheesiest thing you’ll ever hear, but-you’re the most beautiful human being I’ve ever seen with my own two eyes. Sometimes I’ll watch you sleep and want to cry because you’re so perfect. I don’t deserve you, Y/N.”
You wanted to cry all over again, but squeezed Jason tighter, “I love you so much.”
“I love you, Y/N.” He held you close.
You leaned back to look at him and tilted your head, “You watch me sleep?”
Jason awkwardly coughed and scratched his head, “I-uh-I-I mean, sometimes- not in a creepy way- I don’t-” 
You laughed hysterically at his reaction and kissed him, “Don’t worry about it. I watch you sleep sometimes, too, but definitely in a creepy way,” you joked. 
masterlist    requests are open :)
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totalfanfreak · 7 years
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Ain’t No Angel [Red Canyon]
Ain’t No Angel
[So I’m diverting a little bit, I need to quit going through Wikipedia at Reedus’ filmography. I decided to skim off of Boondock’s to give something different, this is for Red Canyon. And I feel like I should put a warning here, you know, for violence, rough stuff, language…etc. Will it be OoC, probably, but do I care? Sadly, I have no answer.]
 Mac believed you to be a lot of things, but an angel sure as hell wasn’t one of them.
 SAINT:
He had spotted you right away, huddled up against the bar and looking at your drink like you had no idea what to do with it. From that look you had you probably didn’t. Dolled up like a little girl on her way to Sunday school – yellow sundress that frilled at the knees, hair curled to waves around your face, strappy sandals with an ankle bracelet to top it off. You certainly didn’t look like you belonged at the fucking Luna Mesa. He bellied up next to you, slamming his hand down demanding a drink, you hadn’t moved, didn’t even flinch from the sudden intrusion, little hands still flexing around the glass like you were psyching yourself up to down it.
“Ain’t from around here are ya, girl?”
You did startle then, and Mac couldn’t help but smirk. Turning to him, you stared up with doe eyes before smiling. Wasn’t hard to get girls to smile at him, there were shit pickings in Caineville, and with his build and blue eyes it wasn’t hard to get a girl to spread her legs. It was the other shit that had them turning tail and running. One of them being his teeth, letting his lips pull apart to grin at you, the blackened rot flashing as he proceeded to pick an imaginary fragment from them. His teeth were the first put off, disgusting them. Bitches like that thinking they were better than him, not only them, too many people thought they were higher up than him, but every one of them were the fucking same. Still cried, still bled.
He waited for you to shirk away, drawing the conclusion that he was trash, nothing but a filthy drug addicted redneck and blow him off. Then the fun could begin. Yet you didn’t, your eyes still holding the deer in headlights expression but smile remaining.
“You would be correct. Sort of passing through, you could say…would you be the welcoming committee Mr. – “
“Mac, everyone around here calls me Mac.”
Your smile grew, perfect polished teeth shining while you stretched out your hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mac. I’m Y/N.”
He looked down at your hand, trailing up to look at your unblemished arms, he could imagine the things he could do to them. The bites, rope burns, knife marks – his, and his alone. Grasping your hand in his, he let he own smile grow, feeling your pulse leap under his touch. Perhaps not like a deer at all, but a little rabbit about to be caught in a snare trap.
“Pleasure’s all mine. Think you’ll like it here, might enjoy it so much you’ll never want to leave.”
He hadn’t taken you that day, a big mistake if he thought about it. For someone just passing through you ran your mouth off to a lot of fucking people. He’d watch you, dropping everything to help an old lady with her groceries, tending to another one’s garden, even getting down a kite that was hung in a tree for the kids at the park. During his observations you had caught him a few times, bounding towards him like the two of you were old friends, going as far as to hug him goodbye. That surprised him, enough so he didn’t think to push you off him. Mac wasn’t a hugger, never had one, didn’t need one, especially a pity hug from some dumb bitch. He didn’t allow people that right, but for that moment feeling your pert body pressed against his, that heart still going like a jackhammer, he faltered. He didn’t like the weakness from that, and though he had most people around here in his pocket, he didn’t like you bustling around town helping everyone, and he sure as hell didn’t like that you thought you could touch him. He knew it was an act, all of it was, acting like you were some kind of fucking saint, he knew better. And he’d teach you to try and fool him. Like all women, deep down you were nothing but a whore, and he’d be glad to help put you in your place.
It hadn’t been hard to get you in the truck, car broken down due to a few missing plugs, he almost sneered at how you smiled at him pulling up. Like he was some kind of hero or something, Mac already knew he was anything but. He had driven up to the canyons, and you hadn’t questioned anything until he put the truck in park. He watched as your eyebrows knitted in confusion, a question on your lips as they pursed. Before you could get out a word, he grabbed you by the back of the head, pulling you by the hair out the driver’s side, letting you fall in the dirt.
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“Come on then, girlie, let’s have us some fun.”
You glanced up, panting from the struggle, before lurching up and head-butting him in the stomach. He doubled over, giving you time to run, you weren’t screaming, and he gave you some credit on that. They always screamed, though there wasn’t a soul out here for miles, the sound echoing off the canyon walls alerting him on where to go. Too bad you were too slow, making it easy for him to catch up and tackle you. On your stomach you let your arm draw back, hitting him square in the nose, he felt warmth rush in his mouth, tasting the copper of his blood.
“That’s right ya little bitch! Keep it up! All you’re doing is makin’ me love you!”
You grunted, trying to get on your back, he leaned up feeling you tense and relax as you rolled over. Your eyes were wide as plates, mouth gasping for air, red dirt splayed over you like dried blood. He narrowed his eyes as you began to nod.
“You’re doing the same to me.”
He was about to grab you again, demand what kind of shit you were talking about, when you grabbed him first, kissing him. Kiss being the operative words, your mouths were touching, but that was all. From the looks of you, he thought you’d be the kind to daydream of those sweet touches, kisses on the face when your lips barely touched each other. He felt everything now, your teeth clacking against his, nicking gums, making them bleed. Your incisor grabbing his bottom lip biting down hard enough to draw blood, he held back a groan as you lapped at it your tongue prodding at his rotted teeth when he finally snapped back to earth and pushed you off him, your skull ricocheting on the ground.
“Stupid little whore!”
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His anger intensified at the sound of your laughter. “Can’t say I’m much of one yet, but I wouldn’t mind it – being your whore. You’re the first…you want to break things, don’t you Mac? I want to be broken. I knew it as soon as you looked at me at the bar, that you wanted me to hurt as much as you, that you wanted to eat me alive. So are you, Mac?”
He breathed in deep, feeling her body trembling under his hands, now realizing not in fear but anticipation. He gnashed his teeth, blood still trickling over his lips, letting the corner of his tongue lick it up. This was new, and he wasn’t sure how to proceed though he knew what was going to happen. He’d eat you up all right; devour you til there was nothing left but your bones bleaching in the desert sun.
MARTYR:
A virgin. A fucking virgin? Mac wanted to tilt his head back and cackle at the sky upon hearing that. But finding out the fact firsthand shut him up real quick. Girls usually saved themselves for their true loves and shit, then there was you, saving it until you found someone as fucked up as you were.
“Not that hard to find a guy that’ll smack a woman around. It is hard to find one that doesn’t blubber out an apology the next day, one that pays attention and sees she likes it, and finds a way to use it to his advantage.”
Oh, he could do that, had begun to over the next few weeks. Doing everything and anything that came into his twisted head, throwing him off each time when you took it with a smile. You’d scream, but then there was always that underlying moan that followed, the one that made him stop for a second and blink in disbelief. After a while he moved you in with him, telling himself that it’d be quicker access for him. He had pulled out your drawers, dumping everything out, while telling you to grab as much you could in three minutes or he was lighting the place on fire with you in it. You were quick getting four suitcases out with twenty seconds to spare. The first night you were made to sleep in the corner of the room on the floor, no blanket or pillow to comfort you. He’d break you, then he remembered you wanted to be broken. The next day you had begun cleaning everything, and though he didn’t mind it, would’ve told you to do it; he choked you for not asking him first. His hands tightened so hard your face turned purple, eyes rolling back before going limp. And for a split second he panicked. He hadn’t meant to…
Don’t go.
But seeing the rise and fall of your chest, he realized you only passed out. Waking a few hours later with a smile on asking if he wanted some dinner. No, he didn’t want any fucking dinner, he wanted to backhand you, wanted you to curse him, and instead grabbed his coat going out the door to get a fix. He took more than he usually did, bounding up the steps, falling through the door. You went to help him, and he snarled.
“Did I say you could fucking touch me, bitch!”
Shaking your head, you sat down beside him. Waiting.
You always waited, and for a while it drove him crazy. Now he expected it. Coming home from the shop or, like now, the caves. Spreading the red dust on the floors you cleaned as he came in to find you cooking his supper. You looked up from the pot you were stirring, a warm smile spreading on your face as you looked at him. He never did it back, but he didn’t hit you for it anymore, his hands twitched and some part in the back of his mind told him to pummel your face in until it cracked open and spilt like an egg but some other part had begun to override it. You looked at his dirty boots, turning back to the pot as the smile slipped.
He smirked, you knew what was up there, and not just the drugs they cooked. “Jealous?”
You shook your head, and he almost chewed his thumb, a habit he hadn’t done since high school.
“What is it then? Ya think you’re gonna bitch at me for dirtying the floors?”
Shaking your head again, you turned the stove off. “Feel bad, I guess.”
He snorted. “What the fuck ya feel bad about?”
“Those girls aren’t like us…If – if you wanted, I could switch with them.”
His eyes narrowed slits of cerulean peeking through. “The fuck you on about, girl?”
“They’d be fine, cooking and cleaning for you, but the chains – I could do the chains.”
He pressed his fingers into his eyes, if anything you were batshit crazy. He knew that when he went in dry and you called out his name like a god. He laughed; there was no god out here.
“Mac?”
He was still buzzing, the high from earlier calming down and stuttering him.
“Shut up.”
You turned away to the cupboards and he jerked you back, letting the plates crash to the floor.
“The fuck’s wrong with you?”
The fuck’s wrong with me?
You shook your head looking down, his nostrils flared, he had vowed to not fuck up your face. The bruises and the swelling getting to him with those fucking eyes, but you were pissing him off. Grabbing your chin hard, he made you look at him.
“You want away from me, huh? Want some other girl here sucking me off while every other meth head fucks you on the cave wall?”
Your mouth gaped open. “I thought it was only you…that, you know…had them.”
You were right, many times in his life Mac was given nothing, and now that he had the power to he took all he could only giving scraps back. But not you.
“Don’t fucking matter who had ‘em, you’re staying here til I say otherwise. You got me!”
You nodded, dropping down to pick up the shards of glass. Eyes flashing, he took you by the nape of your neck and dragged you until you were in the broken pieces, flesh cutting, as he saw blood skimming the floor. With his free hand he began to undo his coveralls.
“Want to be a martyr, princess, you stay on those knees and suck my cock while you bleed.”
Your cheeks pinked, more so when his girth was exposed.
“Mac…please.”
Any other girl would be pleading him to stop, but he knew your looks and cues now, and knew what you wanted.
“You crazy slut, take your clothes off and spread that little pussy for me. Bet your wetter than a river right now.”
“Can I – “
“You don’t get off, not until I say, and right now you got a few sacrifices to make.”
You did as told, mouth and hand on him, while the other kept yourself displayed for him, folds glistening as you worked.
“You slut…my sweet slut. All mine, you dirty bitch.”
SAVIOR:
“What the fuck you tryin’ to say, princess?”
It was the first time he ever saw fear in your eyes. It unnerved him. You threw the stick on the coffee table, getting up to go to the kitchen. He stayed seated though his body roared at him to move. Feeling something cold hit his cheek, he glanced up to see you handing him a glass of whiskey before sitting down with your own. You were not his equal, he made sure you knew that, but you were his, and that fact had embedded itself enough that you were comfortable around him now. He gulped the contents down, wincing as the flame embalmed his belly.
“How the fuck did this happen?”
You snickered. “If you don’t know the mechanics –“
“Shut that smart mouth now.”
The humor was still in your eyes, but did as you were told. The look quickly faded into anxiety.
“What do you want me to do Mac?”
How the fuck was he to know, hell, he might’ve produced spawn from here to Oregon wasn’t one bitch going to admit it was his. He didn’t know what to do.
“I don’t think I could use a hanger, but if you – if you put those boots on and kicked hard enough –“
“Jesus, are you out of your mind?”
“I didn’t think you’d want me to go to a clinic.”
“Maybe I want to fuckin’ keep it, you think of that?”
From the look on your face, he knew you hadn’t.
“We’re not meant to be parents, Mac. Look what ours did to us, broken into so many pieces the two of us are still shifting through them to get whole. We’d warp the kid. You know I don’t care what you do to me when you get high, but a baby, God, we can’t –“
“I could quit, cut down a little at a time and quit.”
Your eyes looked at him, not perceiving what he was saying.
“We’d do better than our parents.”
You scoffed, making him get up and sinking in front of you, a warning in his eyes.
“You think you’re gonna start calling the shots now? That’s my kid in you and you’ll do as I fucking say.”
It was a whisper, the fear creeping more heavily into you.
“I don’t want to kill it.”
“Then fuckin’ don’t!”
“No, I don’t know how – I don’t even think I’d know how to love it…could you? Do either of us even know how to do that?”
He stood up, pacing, before his eyes traveled back to you. He didn’t want to, didn’t think he’d ever would, but God be damned, he did. Looking at you, no matter how fucked up it all was he did know how.
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