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#(it was very sweet and the chat was hooting and hollering in a good way about the Burial of Names)
ohifonlyx33 · 1 year
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So I realized I probably haven't seen a lot of the episodes in English and in order. And since I was bored the other evening, I started rewatching ML starting at season 3. Some thoughts...
(long post)
Chameleon: Evil, psychotic Lila who pretends to be nice is actually an amazing premise for a villain. But the class should know better, at least to SOME degree, or her lies should be more believable. Poor sweet Adrien continues to believe Lila just lies for attention and that he can change her. Marinette facing serious threats from Lila and almost getting akumatized was very dramatic. The kissing akuma is thematic, but still very uncomfortable to witness. Adrien looks at Marinette and smiles, leaving us all dead. 7/10
Animaestro: Marinette may be absolutely off-the-wall doing some bat-whack things in this episode, but the genre-savvy 2D/3D fight is just too much fun to hate the whole episode. 5/10
Bakerix: My dad is basically this man, but with less talent for baking bread. HARD pass. 2/10
Backwarder: Good akuma concept with Lenore's powers and the lucky charm solution. Miraculous history/backstory. Adrien and Gabriel both transforming in a train bathroom is comedic gold. A little Adrienette and a Ladynoir hand kiss. 6.5/10
Refleckdoll: Sigh. Again, Juleka? Ok ok. The senti/akuma is kinda lame. But I do like Juleka, regardless of hating Refleckta. And we got classmates in a reasonable setting. Adrien helping Marinette because he's best boi. Then we have Mayura serving A Lookë™. Not to mention Kwami SWAP. We love to Mister Bug AND Lady Noire... (although SMH, let Mister Bug figure out his own dang Lucky Charm) 7/10
Weredad: Now here's a fun episode to watch after Elation. SO MUCH MARICHAT AWKWARDNESS. I do have a few problems with this episode lie the contrived setup for the plot, the dialogue that keeps explaining people's previously-established motivations, and the rushed conclusion to Marinette's "crush" Still, an absolute DELIGHT. Love the fairytale motif too. 8.5/10
Silencer: I liked the premise of the music industry being brutal and a villain using your voice. But I hate the execution. I don't like Luka's declarations. Or the use of a montage as a replacement for relationship development... although I don't like the chemistry between Luka and Marinette, so I'm happy not to see more of it at the same time. There's some fun or clever moments, throughout, but I'm not sure I'm sold on this episode overall. 3/10 Onichan: Possibly one of the weirdest akumas, but Adrien IMMEDIATELY recognizes her. Kagami being akumatized over Adrien also felt too sudden given how little we've seen of them together this season. Lila being her worst self even while being hunted down... typical. Adrien as Chat Noir watching girls fight over him is hilarious. But the girls themselves, including Marinette, are all being..... well, deranged. 5/10 Miraculer: Gabriel teaming up with Lila to manipulate Chloe... only for Sabrina to get upset.... Miraculer could have been the most difficult villain to defeat, but alas.... Sabrina. We have some interesting momenst with Nino and Alya, Sabrina, and even Chat getting cataclysmed, but alas not much to keep my attention for long. 5/10 Oblivio: Such a fun episode start-to-finish. Almost nothing here I don't like. I love the way it starts mid-fight and shows us only what Chat and Ladybug know. Everything is great, but it somehow feels like it could have been just a little.... more. 9/10 Desperada: Some parts of this episode are a little ridiculous. Especially with the messy and confusing Luka/Marinette/Adrien/Kagami dynamics. And Adrien's snake outfit hurts me. But I do love seeing Ladrien as a superhero duo and seeing the necessity of having Chat Noir helping Ladybug at the same time. I just feel the story is muddled. 6/10
Chris Master: I don't care what anyone says, this episode is a hoot AND a holler. I absolutely consider it iconic. Yes, this is stupid. I don't care 7/10 Startrain: Minor moment with cute, wholesome Adrienette, a good akuma concept, plus Max kills it. But really Sabrina? and RIP to everyone's braincells when Adrien and Marinette both just happen to go missing before LB and CN appear. 7/10 Kwami Buster: Mrs. Mendeleiev is whack and the Kwamis are horrifying, but Multimouse is bae. PLEASE. Marinette is on some next-level brain juice with her entire elaborate plan. Meanwhile, Adrien just plays dumb. There are two types of people here.... and there are both idiots in love with each other. 6.5/10
TBC
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today on Exalted 3e: Crimes Of Nature:
The Gang Destabilizes An Independent City-State
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hiccanna-tidbits · 3 years
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*kicking at your door, smashing it* DING DONG
Hello! 🥰🌸
from "Questions You Should Be Able To Answer For Any OTP" 1,3,4,5,9 and 10 for moanida!😅💜 But you can answer all of them or only few of them is it's too much ahaha
Ily, take care!!
YEAH BOIIII
Coffee shop AU: Who is the barista, and who frequents the coffee shop?
I'm just imagining Moana being a barista at some hole-in-the-wall authentic Polynesian coffee place by the beach, and of course Merida because she damn well needs her caffeine in the morning or she'll pass out, and Rapunzel insists on starting these fucking Squad Beach Days early. Merida was honestly willing to take the first cup of coffee she could get when the gang first went into town, but uhhhhhh oh GOD that girl behind the counter is cute!!! Merida starts "ending up" in there quite a lot, although initially she can barely string a coherent sentence together in front of that cute barista and can't make eye contact for more than half a second. Extroverted as she can be, Merida dissolves into an absolute mess as soon as a pretty girl is involved XD
Merida also pretends to only like black coffee to make herself seem tough, but in reality she kind of hates it and prefers sugar-laden lattes and sweet teas. After a while, when she and Mo have established kind of a friendship, and Merida can have an conversation with Mo without imploding and making an idiot of herself, Mo notices Mer making a face every time she sips her Plain Black Coffee and kinda smirks and is like “You know, there’s no shame in adding sweeteners. I mean, for god’s sake, my favorite drink here is the blonde vanilla coconut latte, and I’m still pretty tough.” Merida is just like “OH THANK GOD” and finally admits that she’d much rather be ordering an Irish crème, toffee, buttered rum, cinnamon, or caramel latte. If the seasonal flavor selection offers any apple-accented or apple pie-esque lattes, Merida’s all about that shit, too! Probably the most “intense” drink Merida actually enjoys is a pretty spicy cinnamon latte. She ends up ordering this pretty frequently to impress Moana with her spice tolerance, even though she really doesn’t need to.
Also, in case there’s any question about it--yes, Moana absolutely memorizes Merida’s orders! Moana also memorizes what flavor syrups Merida seems to like best (i.e. spicy cinnamon, apple pie, caramel, toffee, butterscotch) and gives them extra shots of them in her drinks. When the manager complains about all of Merida’s favorite flavor syrups running out frequently, Moana is like “Oh nooooo, I have no idea why THAT could be! That’s terrible!”
Rivals to lovers AU: Who takes their rivalry seriously, and who is half in it just to push the other’s buttons?
I love the idea of them having a super-petty sports rivalry in a modern AU! Merida strikes me as being competitive as hell, so I’m betting anything she’d be the one to take it way too seriously and get increasingly annoyed with Moana outdoing her, while Mo kind of gives in and indulges Mer but is also secretly amused and kind of flattered that Mer is like...that into their rivalry. Moana’s just like *Regina George voice* “Why are you so OBSESSED with me???”
Like maybe in a modern-day college AU, Merida has been the star of her college’s archery team basically since freshman year. She wins the championships!!! She gets the trophies!!! She’s very well-known within the tiny niche community that is college archery!!! Then, come junior year, this girl in Merida’s year who Merida’s never even SEEN before shows up out of nowhere and makes the cut for the team. She’s honestly way better than she has any right to be (like judging by how she is with that harpoon gun, Moana’s aim is pretty damn good) and is constantly stealing the spotlight, and Merida is a very angry lass. Like it seems like no matter what she does, Moana can always one-up her, and Merida wants to tear her hair out in frustration. Doesn’t help that every time Moana does ridiculously good on a drill and gets 7 bullseyes in a row or some shit, she’s insufferably smug and cocky about it. Merida very-nearly throws a fit every time Mo outdoes her, and Moana honestly finds the whole thing pretty amusing. She’s sort of flattered that apparently only she can get such dramatic reactions out of Mer, and that just tempts her to push Mer’s buttons all the more.
Then, come the annual Big Archery Tournament Finals! As usual, Merida’s college’s team wins--although this time, it’s through a combination of Merida’s and Moana’s skills rather than just Merida kicking archery ass for like 2 hours straight. On the individual evaluations, Moana scores higher than Merida, but only by a little bit. Merida is, of course, extremely salty, but she’s also grudgingly grateful that Moana being there was able to give their team a definitive edge in the competition.
Afterwards, the team goes out for celebratory drinks. After probably 3 drinks too many, Moana finally works up the courage to try and actually like...have a straight conversation with Merida for once, instead of just communicating with passive-aggressive show-offery. She wanders over, sits next to Mer at the bar, and half-slurredly asks if she can declare a truce just for one night, in honor of their kind-of-teamwork winning the tournament. Merida is also a few drinks in, so she’s just like “sure, fuck it, maybe yer not so bad after all. Now prove to me you’re not a pain in the arse!”
They chat for a while, and it turns out Moana is actually pretty easygoing and fun to talk to when she’s not mega-flexing with her archery skills. After a few more drinks, Moana is like “...can I tell you something?” and Merida’s like “why not?”
And then Moana just goes bright red and looks away and admits that the whole reason she got into archery and boosted up her skills enough to join the team in the first place was because she saw Merida making like 50 bullseyes at the previous year’s tournament, and developed a huge crush on her--to the point where she did all this extra-ass shit just so she could join the archery team and get to know Merida better. Also, every instance of Moana acting smug and cocky after acing a drill or perfectly hitting a target? It was honestly because she was trying to impress and show off to Merida, and also because she’s awkward as hell and has no idea how to actually flirt without being joke-mean and joke-cocky. Merida, a much more emotional drunk than she will ever admit, starts crying and gets super apologetic, because oh god, she was being so mean and rude to this girl who only ever thought she was cool and wanted to impress her from the jump??? How COULD she??? Moana lowkey loses her shit laughing because how mad Merida got at being upstaged was honestly kind of hilarious, and she was actually really flattered that Merida was, again, that obsessed with their rivalry. It made Moana feel weirdly special that only she could get to Merida that much, and she honestly liked the attention, even if it...wasn’t the most positive XD And Merida starts laughing, too, because she’ll admit that in hindsight, this whole thing feels a little ridiculous, and extracurricular college archery really isn’t that big of a deal.
Finally, Merida just rolls her eyes and says “C’mere, yeh bloody show-off yeh” and grabs Moana by the front of her archery uniform and smooches her!!! The entire archery team hoots and hollers because OH SHIT, DAT GAY!!! Merida holds out her other hand and flips the entire team off, which honestly just makes them cheer more.
Enemies to lovers AU: Which one switches sides?
Depends a lot on the conflict, I think! Maybe a war breaks out in an AU where someone other than Moana is chosen to return the Heart of Te Fiti--I’m gonna say Tui, for irony’s sake! Moana and Sina take over as co-chiefs while he’s gone, but he takes significantly longer than Moana did in the quest, so Moana’s tribe is eventually forced to flee Motunui to find new fishing grounds before their island is overtaken by darkness. The people of Motunui sail across the world, trying to find a new place to call home. Unfortunately, every time they find a habitable place, it’s already occupied, and the people who live there are uninterested in sharing their already-scarce food.
Eventually they stumble upon Dunbroch, far enough away from Motunui that the seas aren’t affected by the spreading darkness, and fish are plentiful. Naturally, Moana’s tribe sets up a camp on the shores and starts catching as many fish as they can, hoping they’ve finally found a place where they can have enough to eat again. Unfortunately Fergus and Elinor aren’t too crazy about this, and are like “yo, these oceans and these fish and other game belong to the people of Dunbroch and you gotta leave” and Sina and Moana are like “Pls we don’t have any place to go and we’ve been barely eating for a long-ass time, can’t you spare some food?” and Fergus and Elinor are like “sorry bro, it’s almost winter and we have our own entire kingdom to look after, we don’t need more mouths to feed. You gotta be on your way or shit’s gonna get real.”
So Moana thinks this sounds sketch as fuck because like...there’s an entire forest full of deer, rabbits, and other game, and they have NO food they can spare??? That night, Sina sends Moana to spy on the kingdom, since she can be pretty sneaky when she wants. Moana manages to climb the castle battlements and watch through a window, and she sees a bunch of people enjoying a massive feast in a huge dining hall. Her eyes are particularly drawn to a girl about her age with a head full of bright, fiery curls, wearing a nice dark green dress and gorging herself on pastries adorned with white icing and raspberries.
Moana heads back and tells Sina “actually it looks like these assholes have PLENTY of food to spare, and they just want to keep it all for themselves” and Sina is like “well shit...why don’t we raid their food store, then??? They’ve gotta have one somewhere!” And so the Motunui village storms Castle Dunbroch at dawn, catching them almost completely by surprise.
The first thing Moana does is seek out the redheaded pastry girl, whom she’s developed a particular disdain for. When she rushes her, she’s surprised that the ginger girl whips around and immediately sends an arrow sailing into her shoulder. When Moana gets close, the redheaded girl pulls out a sword. Moana takes out a long, sharpened wooden spear made from a particularly tough oar.
She turns out to be much more competent than Moana expected, especially for someone who was shamelessly shoving sweets into her mouth not 7 hours earlier.
They go toe to toe Raya-and-Namaari style, and the redheaded girl admittedly gives Moana a run for her money. The longer the battle goes on, the more Moana’s rage grows. She taunts the redheaded girl the entire time, calling her a spoiled, selfish brat who’d rather gorge herself with all the sugar in the world than share even one grain of it. Merida, who hasn’t exactly heard good things about these people from her parents, is just like “well, you’re no better, showing up and thinking you can just steal what belongs to Dunbroch and we won’t put up a fight!”
And thus the war begins. Motunui is never quite strong enough to get through the guards and raid the food stores, and Dunbroch is never quite strong enough to fully drive Motunui out of the kingdom. Fergus and Moana are both far too stubborn to surrender (despite the fact that Sina is kind of ready to), and so the battles continue. Casualties start to pile up. Dunbroch seeks help from the other clans, but they refuse--they did not take their leaders’ sons being scorned by the Dunbroch princess lightly.
Over and over, Moana can’t help but be drawn to the redheaded girl. She realizes after a few battles that this girl isn’t just anymore, but the Dunbroch princess--her resemblance to the king and his protectiveness over her can’t be a coincidence. It only makes Moana hate her more--but time and time again, she isn’t able to get the better of the princess. Moana can fight hard, and she can be vicious--but so, she’s discovering, can the Dunbroch girl. The princess is clever and cunning, and underestimating her has almost gotten Moana a blade in the throat one too many times.
Merida would be the one to change sides eventually, I think (wooo! Finally got to the actual question!). Once she finds out her parents didn’t tell her the whole truth about their first meeting with the Motunui village and sorta fudged what happened, Merida is livid that they turned away people who needed help. She said if she had known there were people who were tired and hungry and just needed a place to rest, she would have gladly given up some of her own meals for them! To prove this, she gathers up her dinner--plus some apples and some pastries she was going to have for dessert--and puts it in a basket, taking it to the Motunui camp as a peace offering. Moana ambushes her and very nearly slices the basket in half, if only because Moana was convinced it was filled with venemous snakes. After some bickering, Moana finally snatches the food away and, after testing it to make sure it wasn’t poisoned, brings it to Sina.
Unfortunately, one basket of food isn’t enough to feed the village, and the fighting continues. Merida tries to convince her parents to share their food stores with Motunui, but they still refuse, saying they need those stores for their own people and the Motunui people killed any chance of goodwill they might get when they attacked. Determined not to see people starve, Merida starts stealing from the reserve herself and sneaking the food out to the Motunui camp. Moana is feeling a lot more kindly towards Merida at this point, and feels a little bad about being so quick to judge her initially.
Eventually, Fergus and Elinor notice the food in the stores going missing, and figure some of the Motunui villagers must be running stealth operations to sneak in and get it. Dunbroch launches a full-scale attack on Montunui--while Merida is at their camp sneaking them food, in fact. Fergus makes a beeline for Moana. Word has gotten out by now of the times she managed to spy on the castle, so her sneakiness is well-known--and Fergus is all but certain she’s the thief. He charges at her with his sword, aimed to kill, when his own daughter steps in the way.
He barely manages to stop himself, but he does just in time. Merida admits she was stealing the food the whole time, and she can’t let Fergus hurt Moana. Fergus demands to know why, and Merida tearfully admits “Because I love her!”
Fergus, in a rage, takes out his sword again and charges Merida. Swords clash between father and daughter, and Merida looks like she’s just about to be overpowered. Moana can see the fear and betrayal in her eyes, appalled that her father would actually contemplate hurting her.
Not wanting to see whether he actually would, Moana steps in and helps Merida to fend Fergus off. “Enough!” she screams. “How can you live with yourself? My father risked his life to try to save his daughter and his people--and you’re willing to fight yours because she doesn’t agree with all this senseless violence?! You make me sick! I’m standing with Merida, because...because I love her too. I’ll leave if you want, but I want this to end.”
This finally snaps Fergus out of it, and he and Elinor decide that maybe the fighting has gone on long enough--and maybe it’s not worth it anymore, if it’s pitting them against their own daughter now. They end up trying to work out something with Motunui. Establishing a peace treaty and figuring out how to proceed forward is a long and messy process, but everyone is willing to put in the work--for the sake of Merida and Moana, if for nothing else.
Soulmate AU: Who is eager to meet their soulmate? Who absolutely does not want to meet their soulmate?
Neither of them want to meet their soulmate XD Merida has just been repulsed by the idea of marriage and commitment since she was young, mainly because she can’t not see it as just a means of taking her freedom away and making her be subservient to someone. Besides, given the, um...heteronormative culture of Dunbroch and all, she assumes she’ll get not just stuck with, but cosmically bound to a man and that idea just...doesn’t do anything but fill her with unadulterated disgust XD Like please no, she’s perfectly happy to go where she pleases when she pleases with no one but Angus for company. The last thing she needs is some stuck-up, snot-nosed boy telling her what she can and can’t do.
Moana has similar concerns, although maybe a bit less extreme. She’s mainly worried that when she meets her soulmate and, as per expectation, marries them, she’ll be expected to “mature” into a full adult and fully embrace her responsibilities as chief, leaving behind her childhood dreams of exploring the ocean. Same as Merida, she’s worried the person she’s destined for will tie her down and prevent her from exploring and going on the adventures she craves so badly. She’s also, like Merida, worried she’ll get stuck with some lame, boring dude who she’ll be destined for because...he loves her!!! And will be really nice to her!!! But will not stimulate or interest her in any way whatsoever!!! And Moana is pretty uninterested in romance and dating regardless, so the idea of any kind of romantic partner who she’d hypothetically have to run crazy ideas by before just doing them doesn’t sound too appealing to her. Like, she’s happy where she is and having her friends and family for company, what does she need an SO for??? It just feels like the whole “soulmate” business is just the universe attempting to give her a babysitter, and Moana ain’t about that. She can do things on her own, dammit!!! And what makes the great elder love gods think she wants another person to keep track of on her escapades, anyways?!? It’s enough effort keeping herself safe without worrying about someone else!
Imagine their shocked delight when each finds out their soulmate is a) a girl and b) a girl arguably just as chaotic, adventurous, and rebellious as they are!!! They meet and they’re like “huh...maybe the universe wasn’t being some big dumb fucking idiot binding us together after all. I can work with this!!!”
Pirate AU: Who is the pirate? Who is the member of the royal family who did not sign up for this?
Merida is the pirate! Or at least...the one who becomes a pirate first! XD Maybe to escape her betrothal she steals a ship and flees Dunbroch, and BOOM trouble on the High Seas time!!! Eventually she sails to the south Pacific on her naval escapades, and stumbles on Motunui. When she finds out Moana is a chief’s daughter, she naturally kidnaps her and holds her for ransom--because screw it, she hasn’t successfully pillaged any merchant ships recently and she needs some cash. But instead of being like “Noooo take me home!” Moana is like “Actually this fucks, I’ve always wanted to sail the ocean anyways and my dad wouldn’t let me before, so you’ve accidentally given me an avenue to achieve my dreams!!! Thank you!!!” And Merida realizes that a first mate would actually be a lot more useful in the long run than a handful of hostage money, so she just kind of shrugs like “aight, yer on the crew.”
Merida is a bit salty because Moana takes to the pirate lifestyle excellently--so much so that before long, she’s arguably a better pirate than Merida XD While Merida is a bit cranky about being outdone in the art of piracy, she also can’t help but admire Moana’s natural aptitude for sailing and propensity for mischief on the High Seas!!!
Their ship is called “The Arrow,” and Merida definitely uses her bow during pirate-to-pirate combat! She teaches Moana how to shoot a bow, but discovers Mo is pretty nifty with a harpoon gun as well!
Childhood best friends AU: Which one was super obviously in love with the other the whole time? Who was oblivious until they were older?
Oooooh, this is a fun one!!! Admittedly I don’t usually think about these girls in a Childhood Friends to Lovers AU (very possibly due to...geographical constraints lol) so this’ll be a cool thought experiment!
SO in order to fix my unfortunate geographical constraints, I’m gonna say that this is an AU where the people of Motunui were wayfinders from the jump, and while voyaging (admittedly a LONG way), they stumbled upon Dunbroch. Moana’s parents and Merida’s parents immediately hit it off, and established a political alliance of sorts.
Moana, meanwhile, pulled the classic “little girl on vacation/at an event immediately seeks out other little girl and becomes best friends with her.” Moana and Merida naturally also hit it off immediately, and are both pretty bummed out when Tui and Sina want to leave and continue voyaging and such. However, they make plans to visit as frequently as they can and Merida and Moana are super hyped about this! They both always get extremely excited for said visits, and Little Moana nearly falls off the front of her family’s boat several times because she’s leaning over so far and squinting so hard to try and see Dunbroch.
I love the idea that Moana was the one who was totally smitten from the jump, to the point where it took her years to realize she was aspec because she was like “Of course I can fall in love!!! I’m in love with Merida!!!” She just didn’t realize most people have romantic inclinations toward more than one person over the course of their lives XD
It absolutely does not help that Merida is extremely romance-repulsed when they’re kids--mainly because she associates romance in general with being docile and acting stupid to impress some annoying macho guy, and that thought kinda makes her want to puke. That, and given how, er...heteronormative things are in Dunbroch, it doesn’t reall occur to her that romancing girls is like...an option. So poor Moana has always kind of resigned herself to thinking she has no chance with Merida, and keeps her feelings under pretty tight lock since she doesn’t want to ruin their close friendship and all and she doubts Merida even swings that way.
THEN when they’re in their early teens, Merida is like “hmmm...I wonder what it would be like to kiss Moana?” but then IMMEDIATELY feels weird for thinking that and tells absolutely no one. She’s definitely starting to feel something a little different than just platonic friendship though, and of course she’s also convinced Moana only sees her as a friend and probably doesn’t like girls.
Then one day they’re wrestling around out in the woods, like they have since they were little, and at one point Merida leans down and just impulsively kisses Moana. She’s super flustered and apologetic afterwards, but Moana just stares in shock before being like “holy shit, I never thought you’d actually want me too. Holy shit!!!!” After that, they start secret-dating and everyone around just thinks they’re still “very good friends” XD
When Merida turns 16 and gets the news of her betrothal, she’s devastated. It takes her several days to process her emotions, and several times she tries to protest to her mother, but Elinor steamrolls her and talks over her at every turn. Finally, when Merida can get a word in edgewise, she tearfully bursts out that she can’t go through with this because she loves Moana. Elinor, traditionally-minded woman that she is, is horrified by this.
When Fergus finds out, he GOES OFF at Elinor and sticks up for Merida. He basically says that she’s their daughter and they should want her to be happy, and they should be happy for her that she did find someone she loves, even if it’s a bit...unconventional.
Later, at the betrothal ceremony, Merida picks an archery contest for the suitors with the hopes of cheating the system and winning her own hand. Imagine her surprise when Moana rushes in late with a makeshift bow on her hip, shouting “I am Moana of Motunui, and I’ll be shooting for the princess’s hand as well!”
Luckily, due to Moana’s years and years of informal archery training from Merida herself, the other suitors really don’t stand a chance.
It turns out that Elinor and Fergus set this whole thing up, deciding in the end that their daughter should at least be able to marry who she loves if she had to get looped into a political marriage. And honestly, they weren’t going to say no to a stronger alliance with Motunui at the end of the day. Merida is so pleasantly shocked by the whole thing that she forgets to be mad about the fact that she’s still being pressured into a marriage pretty young XD Luckily, Moana has no intention of trying to hold Merida back or take her freedom away! Their relationship really barely changes after they officially become wives, and they’re still just as in love as they’ve basically always been.
As for the issue of heirs, Elinor and Fergus just make Merida’s brothers the heirs of Dunbroch, and Tui and Sina are fine with Moana and Merida choosing an heir for Motunui who isn’t necessarily their biological child. Neither Moana nor Merida are crazy about the “leaders have to be from the chief/monarch’s bloodline” rule anyways, so they’re more than fine with this!
This is in reference to this post! Still answering these questions for Moanida and Hiccanna, if I haven’t done so already!
@takaraphoenix come get your daily dose of Moanida!
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lonelyreputation · 4 years
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Different (part four)
A/N: WOW! So much later than anticipated!! My apologies! Took me some time to write & edit! But here ya go 💫 Part ~four 🥳 There’s only one more part after this, woot woot!! 
THANKS A MILLION FOR ALL OF YOUR LOVELY WORDS AND KIND MESSAGES!!! 🤗💞🌻 I appreciate all of you to no end I love you all so much 🤧 I’d love to hear your thoughts!!
REQUEST/PROMPT: Unrequited Love
Part ONE | Part TWO | Part THREE
Let’s Chat!! | MASTERLIST | Add Yourself To My Taglist!
Warnings: Few swear words
WC: 4.1K // only a ~smidge of angst
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It had been two months since you started walking in a different park; two months since Shawn had spilled tea on you.  Two months since your last contact with him.  And while it initially hurt seeing him, after a few days, you were starting to feel somewhat normal.
While two months felt like a blink of an eye, it had been a total of eight months since you last really saw Shawn.  Eight months since that explosive argument where you put it all on the line for him and he cut you loose.  Well, you cut yourself out from his life, but that was because you knew it was to keep your sanity above anything else.
It took some time adjusting to a new park, but all in all, you found it more peaceful than the last.  And that was probably due to the fact that you now had a walking partner.  Since Brian took you out for coffee, he weaved his way back into your life.  So for the last two months, you had spent it drinking an insane amount of caffeine, and getting some light exercise with Brian.
It felt nice rekindling your friendship with him.  While at the time, it made sense to cut anyone out of your life who connected you to Shawn, now you saw how much of a mistake that was.  Because as you walked into the frigid February air, feeling as if icicles were hitting your skin, you finally had a close enough friend you felt comfortable confiding your secrets in.
“I’m seeing someone,” you dug your mitten-clad hands further into your jacket pocket as the wind picked up.
For a second, you thought the wind had picked up your secret, but when you turned your head to look at Brian, there was a very concentrated look on his face.  You elbowed his side, and he was brought out of whatever world he found himself in, as a smile lit up his face, “That’s––Wow, Y/n, that’s great.”  
“Thanks,” you shrugged off his forced tone of excitement.
While his smile was genuine you could see it in his eyes, and hear it in his voice, that he was thinking something different.
“Who’s the lucky guy?”
Another howl of wind came through as you tilted your head down and to the side, bracing the cold impact, you almost didn’t hear the word lucky.
You waited until the wind died down to speak up, “His name’s Charlie.”  And a soft smile made its way across your face as you thought about the date he took you on two nights ago, “He’s really sweet.”
The wind picked up again when you were explaining to Brian how you met him through a mutual friend.  And while you had only been seeing him for a little over a month, things were still casual between the two of you, but you could see the relationship progressing into something more serious.  
In the past, you had been so hung up on your fantasy with Shawn––the clichè story of how the two best friends fell in love––that you brushed off every guy who tried to make an advance on you.  And it wasn’t until you had spent the whole party laughing with Charlie that you realized Shawn never held back when it came to girls around him.
So this time, you weren’t holding back.
“I’m happy for you, really,” Brian threw an arm around your shoulder to give you a quick side hug, and it was the first time he sounded genuine, “You really deserve this.”
“Yeah,” it was the first time the wind decided to stay quiet, and you spoke confidently, “I do.”
The rest of your walk was silent as the two of you enjoyed the company of each other.  There was something so soothing about not feeling pressured to fill the void of silence with noncommittal conversation.  It was something you missed about having a best friend.
When you completed your walk, about to ask Brian when the next time he would be up for a walk, he cut you off, “We’re––I’m having a little get together in a few nights,” he rocked back on his heels, “You should bring your boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you quickly corrected him.
Brian rolled his eyes, “But really, I’d like to meet him.”  You nodded, keeping silent, because you knew that Brian was holding back on some key information.  And with a sigh, he answered what you already expected to be true, “Shawn might stop by, but he said he didn’t know if he would be up for socializing.”
Even after eight months of voluntarily avoiding him, there was still a sharp zip of pain that stung your chest when you heard his name.
“It’s fine if he's there,” you tried to brush it off and act nonchalant, when on the inside, you were going absolutely insane, “I’m over him.” Brian raised his eyebrows, not believing your statement, and you let out a huff, “Fine, okay.  Maybe I’m not totally over him, but…” you kicked up some dirt and whispered, “I’m really trying.”
Brian smiled and wrapped his arms around you, “That’s all that matters,” he squeezed you tight, “And if that new boy makes you happy then that’s a plus.”
“Yeah,” your voice was muffled from your head being buried into his puffy winter jacket, “I’m happy.”
///
You decided to invite Charlie to Brian’s get together.
You briefly mentioned it as an offhand comment as the two of you were doing dishes together; he was washing and you were drying.  You held your hand out, expecting to be passed another plate, but were met with air.  So when you looked up to see him stop mid-wash, with a smile on his face, you knew it was the right call to bring him and a smile instantly lightened up your face.
“So this is Brian’s place?” Charlie said as the two of you rode up the elevator.  
He couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he was practically jumping up and down in the elevator.  He was almost too excited to meet your friends while all you felt was nauseous.  All of the worst case scenarios ran through your head and everything kept circling back to Shawn.
What if Shawn was there? What would Shawn do? Would Shawn care? Did Shawn even know you were seeing someone?
But you shook your head clear of all the ‘what ifs.’  You were done focusing on those eight months ago.
When the elevator dinged onto Brian’s floor, you couldn’t help but return Charlie’s infectious smile as you grabbed a hold of his hand and walked off the elevator.
Walking down the hallway to Brian’s apartment felt like an eternity, but when you got to the door with 643 nailed onto it, you could hear the hoots and hollers of insanity.  You didn’t bother knocking as you turned the door knob and came face-to-face with Brian, down on one knee, chugging whatever he had in the red solo cup.
Once finished, he threw the cup onto the ground as people around him cheered.  You looked at Charlie with raised eyebrows and an apologetic smile, “That’s Brian––”
“Y/n!”
You weren’t able to finish your sentence as your hand was ripped away from Charlie’s and you were brought into a bone crushing hug.
“Oh, Y/n I’ve missed you,” Brain fake cried into your shoulder.
“It’s been two days,” you patted his shoulder and looked back at Charlie who had an amused smile on his face.
“Too long,” Brian laughed as he let you out of his hold and turned around, “You must be Charlie.”
He nodded his head and took Brian’s outstretched hand in his.  They exchanged pleasantries and talked for a few moments before you excused yourself to get a drink from the kitchen.  You were in the middle of making yourself a vodka coke when Charlie slid up next to you.  
Automatically a smile made its way onto your face as you handed him a sip of your drink.  He took a sip and scrunched his nose up, “Did you put any coke in that?”  You threw your head back in laughter and took the cup from his hand, “Is getting through a night with me so hard you need that much alcohol?”
From the glint in his eyes and the teasing tone he spoke with, you knew he was joking.  But you weren’t going to lie to yourself and say that you were just taking precautionary measures in case Shawn decided to show up.
Charlie tapped his fingertips on the top of your hand, and you flipped your hand over, palm facing upwards as he slotted his fingers with yours.
You smiled up at him, “I would never need that much alcohol for you.”
He let out a laugh as he reached over the counter and grabbed a regular soda can.  When you offered him alcohol to mix with his drink he shook his head and said something along the lines of being the designated driver.  
But his words were lost on you as you heard someone call out your name.
“Y/n?” The crack of the soda can wasn’t loud enough to drown out the voice you hadn’t heard since he spilled tea on you.
Your eyes widened, and your first thought was that you hadn’t had enough to drink yet to face him.  Charlie looked down at you, with a mixture of concern and amusement, as you downed half of your drink before facing your ex-best friend.
“Shawn, hey,” you tried your best to smile as he stood in front of you in the red shirt you bought him for his twenty-first birthday, “How are you?”
He looked a little shocked as he stared at the half-empty cup on the counter he saw you make just minutes before.  But then you saw his eyes glance over to your hand intertwined with Charlie’s.  It was a subtle look, but his dumbfounded expression morphed into one of confusion as he scrunched his eyebrows together.
He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, thinking he found the right words to say, but backtracking because he knew anything he said wouldn’t be good enough.
“Charlie,” you cleared your throat, “This is Shawn, and Shawn this is, Charlie, we’re––”
“Hey,” Shawn interrupted you before you could define your relationship status in front of him, “Nice to meet you.”
Charlie smiled, excited to meet another one of your friends, “Hey man, love your music.”  
There was always part of you that thought it would’ve been better if you told Charlie the whole truth about your friendship with Shawn, so that he’d understand how much you didn’t want to hear him genuinely compliment his music.  But all that you revealed to Charlie was that Shawn had been a friend for a few years; nothing less and definitely nothing more.  
A tight smile formed on Shawn’s face, but his eyes were dull, “Appreciate it.”
Charlie untangled your fingers and threw the arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close to his side, “This one always skips it when it comes on shuffle.”
Charlie was the only one laughing.  You stood frozen with your eyes wide staring at Shawn, as you felt your heart drop in your stomach.  Shawn also stood frozen, but his eyes were wide with perplexion and a hint of sadness.
“I just think it’s weird hearing a friend singing unexpectedly on my phone,” you tried to play it off with a shrug and Shawn let out a weak laugh.
“She doesn’t even eat tacos,” he let out another laugh as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, Shawn’s eyes narrowing in on the action, “This one,” he playfully rolled his eyes as he looked down at you with an affectionate smile, “She’s different.”
Your body froze up.
Different.
Shawn froze up as his eyes widened just a smidge.  It seemed as though everyone at the party disappeared and you and Shawn were transported to the night you overheard him in the bathroom.  She’s different, he said about you, she’s just a friend.
You had no reason to be upset.  You were almost completely over your best friend who had broken your heart.  But standing in between a guy who you currently had feelings for, and the guy who you used to love…That word made your skin crawl.
You tried to lighten the situation by laughing; it was forced, Charlie didn’t seem to notice as he joined in on your laughter, but with one look at Shawn…You knew he could tell you weren’t genuinely laughing.
Shawn only stayed for a few more moments before saying he saw someone he hadn’t seen in forever.  With the pointed look in his eyes, and how he stretched out the word forever, you knew he was talking about you.  But he seemed to grasp the awkwardness of the situation and let you be with Charlie.
He took a sip of his soda, “He seems really cool, does he have a girlfriend? Maybe we could double date.”
His comment was casual, with an obvious playful tone, but you felt your hands start to sweat and bile stinging the back of your throat.  He had no idea, but that was your absolute worst nightmare.  Hearing about all of his dates when you were best friends was torture enough.  But to actually see him on a date?
“I’m just going to go to the bathroom,” you pressed a quick kiss on Charlie's lips and patted his chest, “I think Brian is in the living room?”
Charlie nodded his head enthusiastically and was already off searching for Brian before you left the kitchen.  You finished the rest of your drink, throwing the plastic cup in the trash bin, before hastily making your way to Brian’s room.  He always kept his room off limits during a party, but you knew he would let it slide for you.  
You rushed in, closing the door softly behind you, and went to sit at the bottom of his bed.  You leaned your elbows on your knees and rested your head in your hands.
You were over Shawn.  You had someone else in your life who made you laugh, brought a smile to your face, and would surprise you with takeaway food and a movie when he knew you had a rough day.  Charlie was nothing but kind and supportive of everything in your life, and you were upset with yourself because why couldn’t you love Charlie like you loved Shawn.
Charlie reciprocated your feelings; he was a good guy.  So why, just moments ago, did you feel more butterflies in your stomach when Shawn was in front of you than you ever did standing next to Charlie?
The door creaked open, and you saw a sliver of the hall light creep into the dark room, “I know I’m not supposed to be in here, Brian, but I really needed to clear my head––”
“It’s not Brian.”
Your head shot up and you were met with Shawn staring at you.  His hands were tucked into the front pockets of his black jeans, and while he tried to look as neutral as possible, he looked just as awkward as you felt moments ago.  His eyes were darting around the dimly lit room and he was chewing on his bottom lip.
You knew that he felt awkward.  You knew that he looked nervous.  And you knew, from that one sentence, that he sounded discouraged.
“So,” he rocked back on his heels and then forward on his black boots, “You have a boyfriend?”
With a scoff you rolled your eyes, “Not that it’s any of your business, but he’s not my boyfriend.”
“So you just hold hands and kiss anyone now?”
You shrugged your shoulders in annoyance and rolled your eyes, “What––Why are you so worked up about this?”
He narrowed his eyes at you, “I’m not worked up––”
You raised an eyebrow, “Uh, yes you are,” you spoke as if it was the most obvious thing, “you followed me into a room.”
Without an excuse for your matter-of-fact point, he ran his fingers through his hair, “You made tour miserable.”
You let your mouth drop open,”Me?” You couldn’t help but let out a single laugh about how ridiculous that sounded, “I made tour miserable? I wasn’t even with you, Shawn.  We weren’t talking––”
“Exactly! That’s how you made it miserable!” He said exasperatedly and threw his hands up, “How is it that you ruined touring and our friendship in the same month?”
Offended by his accusation, you stood up and pointed a finger at him, “You did that all by yourself.”
“Me?” Shawn mimicked your offended tone, “I wasn’t the one who fell in love with my best friend––”
All anger in your system left your body for a millisecond as you let your shoulders drop in sadness, “Are you really throwing that in my face right now?”
You felt crushed––absolutely shattered––that the person you once thought the world of would throw your feelings in your face in such a cruel way.  He always gave advice to fans to chase after what they want, to not be afraid to fall in love, to be honest with their feelings.  But behind closed doors with you? You couldn’t think of someone who was more hypocritical.
It took a second longer for Shawn to register the words that spewed out of his mouth.  He knew he was in the wrong, he knew he shouldn’t have said those words as maliciously as he did, but he couldn’t take them back.
But when Shawn noticed something wasn’t going his way, he changed the subject, “Do you…” The glare in his eyes disappeared and you saw just how exhausted he looked, the moon shining through the window highlighted the small bags under his eyes, “Do you really not eat tacos anymore?”
It was a typical Shawn move; trying to remove himself as the root of the problem and that only fueled back up the anger in you.
You shot him a glare, “Write a fucking song about it.” You said it in the nastiest voice you could as you purposely bumped his shoulder with yours as you stomped passed him.
But before you could reach for the door handle, Shawn caught your elbow in his hand and you felt a type of warmth you hadn’t felt in nearly a year, “I did write a song.”
“I don’t care, Shawn,” you rolled your eyes and tried yanking your elbow from his hold, but it was no use, “Let’s just go back to the party.”
“When you’re ready.”
“I am ready to go back,” you stopped struggling against him and let out a defeated sigh, “We can just pretend you never followed me here and I’ll go back to––”
“That’s a song I wrote––”
You whirled around, wanting to be done with arguing with him, “No, shit––”
“–-For you.”
His hand dropped from your elbow the same time your mouth dropped open as the two minute and forty-nine second song zipped through your mind; Every single night my arms are not around you, my mind’s still wrapped around you––I’m waiting––What if my dad is right, when he says that you’re the one––I’m waiting––I’ll wait forever––Say the word––I know your heart like the back of my hand––I’m waiting.
But he didn’t wait.
“How––” You felt your throat tighten up as your voice cracked, “How can you say that to me right now?”
It was as if Shawn hadn’t realized that revealing the inspiration behind the song would backfire on him.  You knew he didn’t think it through because he always told you stories when he told the girl what song he wrote about her and she would swoon.  
“It’s a––It’s a sweet song,” Shawn stumbled over his words as he rambled, trying to get every single one of his thoughts out before you would eventually stop listening to him, “It’s how I felt about you––How I feel––Everyone loves when a song is written about them and I––I just thought––If you knew that that song is about you––”
“I told you I was ready and you––you didn’t…” you looked up at the one person you thought you would always give the entire world up for.  The frown was evident on his face as he bit the inside of his cheek, glassy eyes looking down at you, “I‘m happy now.”
“I didn’t know that––”
You tried everything in your power to be angry at him, to throw words just as spiteful back at him that would cause him to lose sleep, just like he did with you, but all you felt was your heart breaking all over again.
“You wrote that song before I told you how I felt.”
“I know,” Shawn said exasperatedly, “I didn’t know how you felt–––”
“And you're telling me this now?” Your voice cracked as you felt the familiar sting pierce behind your eyes, “Because I have someone else in my life?”
“That’s not––”
“Do you know how manipulative that is?” You spoke on the verge of tears, feeling a lump begin to form, “I can’t keep doing this with you, Shawn.”
“Y/n, please, that wasn’t my intention,” Shawn’s voice was as desperate as the hold on your hand,  “I miss you––I––I miss us.”
“This is why I needed space,” you croaked out, and as much as you wanted to shake off his hand, you found yourself craving the warmth of his touch, “We can’t work like this––”
“I won’t be an asshole,” he pleaded with you, as if that was the only fault in your broken friendship, “I won’t come between you and your boyfriend, I won’t push you to talk to me when you don’t want to, I won’t hurt––” He cut himself off before he made a false promise, “––I’ve never missed anyone as much as you.”
You could try and rationalize all the reasons why you shouldn’t miss him––because that list outweighed the reasons why you did miss him––but you knew that you would be lying to yourself.  While your nightmares still centered around the day he let you down, your daydreams were filled with the familiar warm touches.
And holding his hand loosely in yours, now that you were reacquainted with the warmth, you didn’t know if you could live without it again.
“If––If we do become friends again,” you softly whispered, “We…” The light squeeze of your hand caused you to look up at him after your sentence drifted off.  His eyes were so full of hope, full of desire, that it killed you to say your next words, “I’ll need to think about it.”
“I’ll take it,” Shawn’s voice was small, “I just––Did you miss me at all?”
With a sad smile, you nodded your head, “Everyday.”
And with that, you dropped his hand and made your way out of Brian’s room and back to the liveliness of the party.  It didn’t take you long to find Charlie, seeing as he was standing next to Brian shouting out in excitement as he sunk a ping-pong ball into a red solo cup.  You rolled your eyes and made your way over to the rambunctious duo.
“Thought you weren’t drinking?” Your voice was directed at the boy you came to the party with, but your eyes trailed on a very tired looking Shawn as he came out from the hallway.  
His eyes met yours in a longing stare as you saw his eyes shift to the person who had just thrown an arm around you, showing you the inside of his cup, “Just water.”
You forced out a laugh as your eye contact with Shawn dropped when someone handed him a drink, “Responsible.”
Throughout the whole night, your eyes were always drawn to Shawn and the red solo cup he had only taken one sip out of.  And if your eyes weren’t on him, you felt his eyes on you.  
As you were sitting on the couch with Charlie, your head leaning on his shoulder, you closed your eyes and laughed at the funny story he told.  He was a hit with your friends, and nothing could’ve made you happier in that moment.  When you were listening to one of your other friends pitch in their funny story, Charlie gazed down at you and sneaked a quick kiss.
The kiss was sweet, not lasting more than a second, but when he pulled away and joined in on the conversation around you, your eyes automatically found the back of a red shirt as he weaved through the crowd.  Your eyes didn’t leave him until he closed the door behind him.
Maybe there was something that could’ve made you happier in that moment.
Taglist: @http-isabela, @musicalkeys, @adelaidestreets, @alina--jpeg, @fallinallincurls, @lights-on-mendes, @mendesficsxbombay, @now-that-i-saw-u, @particularnarry, @shawnmendez, @shawnsmutual, @turtoix, @vinylmendes, @5-seconds-of-mendes, @pupsandducks @musicalkeys
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xhanisai · 4 years
Note
Can I be that one annoying fan that spams you every day with basically the same question? That being Kiss AU frightningale. If you would be so kind.
Well, since you kindly gave me that Ko-Fi UwUwUwU, I can spare an ounce of kindness~~~ 
This will be a long one~ Enjoy! (P.S. I have made a lot of changes here to make this, hopefully much more interesting…) 
The episode starts off with Gabriel dragging his son away to the venue for the Chat Noir costume fitting. Adrien’s trying everything to escape, ranging from faking he’s sick to clinging to the railings on the stairs. Gabriel and Nathalie struggled to get him to let go but Gorilla comes to their rescue, managing to pluck him off with ease. 
“You’ll never take me alive!” Adrien hollered out childishly, kicking his legs and banging his fists against Gorilla’s back as he was held like a sack of potatoes, the group making way out of the house and to the limo. 
“Never make us do that again, Son.” Gabriel grumbled out, running his fingers through his unruly hair before quickly straightening the locks back. A frazzled Nathalie handed him a comb with a huff.
“How about, don’t force me into doing things I don’t want to? Hmm?” Adrien sassed, looking as intimidating as a caught kitten. He could feel Plagg cackling in his jacket, the cursed being doing nothing to help. 
“It’s just a fitting Adrien- plus it’s a very good opportunity for you! You get to meet an international popstar and perform in her music video, dressed up as one of those superheroes you adore.” 
“B-B-But…I’m just a stick! I won’t do any justice to Chat Noir’s muscles and abs!” For effect, Adrien poked his shoulders. “See? Skin and bones.”
“Nonsense~ my stylists have commented about your developing muscles during your shoots. All those fencing and basketball lessons have been paying off,” Mr. Agreste chirped with a cheesy grin, pushing his glasses back against the nose. Adrien was immediately reminded of those dopey glasses characters in the hundreds of anime he’s watched. 
“Besides, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng will be picked up by Vincent and his crew in five minutes to meet up at the venue and dress as your counterpart.” Nathalie added, scrolling through her tablet. She then flickered her eyes towards the boy’s curious face, glasses glinting under the light for a split second. “You wouldn’t want her to be paired with any other random Parisian, right?” 
You see, Adrien is usually a very bright boy, evidenced by his top grades, ability to adapt and so on.
This is not the case right now.
Completely dismissing the disastrous problem awaiting him, Adrien’s mind was clouded with utmost jealousy. Images of his talented Princess being oogled by some…some random KID in HIS costume…making her SMILE and even…HOLDING HER HAND??? 
‘Oh my God…what if they try to make the boy kiss my Marinette?’ Adrien screams internally, dismissing another important factor before jumping out of Gorilla’s grasps (who coincidentally loosens his grip) and darted inside the vehicle. 
“TO THE VENUE! ONLY I CAN BE THE CHAT NOIR TO MARINETTE’S LADYBUG!” The boy beeped the horn for good measures. 
“Why didn’t you use my daughter-in-law’s name to coax him in the first place, Nathalie?” Gabriel’s eyebrow twitched with irritation. His assistant simply mirrored the look. 
“It was one way I was able to get you to do some workout, sir.” Her eyes narrowed further but inside, she was fighting a grin when Gabriel spluttered. “After all, someone has been gaining a few extra pounds ever since we got friendly with your future in-laws.” 
“I-I have no idea what you mean!” Her boss harrumphed, entering the limo with a grumble. Nathalie didn’t miss the way he clutched his stomach with a pout. “It’s not my fault that they don’t let me leave till they’ve fed me three helpings of dumplings…”
Meanwhile, Marinette is kidnapped hauled away by Vincent, Alya and the rest of the girls from her class, much to her protests. Sabine and Tom watches the scene unfold with a cup of tea in hand and some sweets. Their smiles only broadening. 
“Alya-aaaa! Lemme go! Lemme go-ooooo!” What good was being Ladybug when she can’t seem to escape her best friend’s shoulder, getting carried away like a THING? Marinette let out another huff as the girls finally made way outside, a car waiting for them. 
“You can keep wriggling and fighting but you’re no match with Mama Bear Alya’s muscles~!” Her best friend hooted, flexing her free arm with exaggeration as the rest of the group giggled. “And gurl! You’re light as hell! What the heck? No wonder you can’t make me budge.”
“I am big and strong! I can take you all in one go! I’ll prove it right now!” Marinette retaliated. No one took her seriously. “I just wanted to be a backup dancer and so did Adrien!!!” The girl resorted back to whining again, flopping in defeat.
“Really? He was actually pretty adamant in taking the Chat Noir role.” Mylene nodded as did the others. 
“What? Since when? We both agreed to be backup with you girls yesterday night during a call.” 
“Someone call Barbie Doll right now,” Alya suggested whilst shoving Marinette inside the car unceremoniously, ignoring her groans. Alix rolled her eyes, whipping her phone out and got inside the vehicle, purposely squishing Marinette against the car’s door on the other side so that she had no means of escape. 
The model finally picked up when the girls were on the road, his annoyance clear through the speaker.
“Don’t tell me you girls are already at the venue and some loser stole my role- the traffic here is mental!” Rose and Juleka hid their snickering at this. 
“What role? Adrien! We agreed to be backup dancers- what’s with you wanting to be Chat Noir now?” Marinette butted in, glaring at the phone despite the recipient not being able to see her face. 
“O-OH!? Morning Princess~”
“Don’t ‘Princess’ me you big, annoying, dummy-”
“Okay, Sweetcheeks it is then,”
“NO.”
“Sugarberry?”
“STOP.”
“But Darling~”
“ADRIEN!”
“Hey, now listen here. I didn’t do this on purpose ya know? I was all decked up and ready to be a backup dancer but Pere and Nathalie had other plans!”
“And you went along with it?” 
“They had to get the Gorilla to literally get me out of the house! Give me some credit here, Marinette!” Adrien groaned, slumping against his seat, knowing very well that his trio of guardians were all wearing matching grins under that poker face of theirs. 
“A-Ah, okay, so basically the same thing as me then, right?” Marinette almost felt bad for going off on him.
“Mmhm, besides,” 
“Oh?”
“I refuse to let any dumb boy take away MY woman.” Marinette could literally feel the cat radiating from him, annoyance pumping through her veins. Of COURSE he relents into his father’s whims due to jealousy! A tiny part of her brain was rather flattered, making her heart flutter but the raven haired girl immediately brushed those thoughts away. 
“You never really put up much of a fight after you found out I was gonna be forced to play Ladybug, right?” The baker girl’s tone was dry as hell. 
“Your point?” She couldn’t believe Adrien had the nerves to answer like that.
“YOU BETTER WATCH YOUR ASS AGRESTE! COS WHEN I’M THROUGH WITH YOU-”
“Oh please do be gentle~”
“ADRIEN!?”
“Love ya~~~mwah!” With a triumphant grin, Adrien hung up the phone. He knew very well of how much trouble he’s in but he’ll focus on that hurdle when it comes to it. Gabriel and Nathalie only eyed the teen incredulously, the former pinching the bridge of his nose. Why oh why is his son like this…?
Both cars simultaneously arrive at the venue, making Adrien realise how much danger he’s in. He could literally feel Marinette’s rage seeping out of the car. Nathalie pretty much kicked him out so that he can face his responsibilities. Both he and Mari have a stare off- the latter itching to throttle him whilst the boy whistles innocently. 
Marinette doesn’t get a chance to drag Adrien away as they’re both led into the venue by their peers, finally seeing people trying out the superhero roles. It was then that Adrien recalled why he and Mari settled to be backup dancers in the first place.
“Oh shit…” Adrien finally uttered when a boy slipped on the Chat Noir mask. His eyes then drifted to Marinette, wincing at her pointed glare before averting his gaze again. He fucked up. Their identities are screwed! 
The duo were too preoccupied with their thoughts to process Clara’s enthusiasm and squeals, babbling about how they’ve been going through hundreds of candidates for hours. 
“Wait- how come those two get the role immediately? We don’t even know if they’re good enough!” One of the teens exclaimed, hands on hips and glowered. Clara sweatdropped at this. “We’ve been waiting here for ages! Is this all for nought?”
A light bulb appeared on both the secret heroes’ heads, both wearing a matching grin as they turned towards each other.
‘You thinking what I’m thinking?’
‘You bet so, Princess~’
‘Don’t call me Princess. I’m still mad at you.’
‘Oh boo…’
Marinette and Adrien were quick to agree with the teen, claiming how they should wait like everyone else so that there’s a fair chance without paying mind to Gabriel’s glares. The rest of the girls lined up for the backup roles, wishing the duo good luck whilst the adults were pulled away elsewhere. 
“Thank God…” Marinette sighed in relief. She vowed to give the teen an autograph the next time she’s transformed. The girl looped her arm through Adrien’s, both of them sticking with the Chat Noir line (the staff knew they were going to perform as a packaged deal so they didn’t necessarily have to wait separately). 
“You got a plan Bugaboo?” Adrien was met with a snort but all he did was roll his eyes fondly. “Aight, still mad, no nicknames. Got it,” With a smirk, he tried kissing her cheek to soften her up but his lips met her hand clasping his mouth instead, blocking him.
“Adrien…” The boy deflated at her disappointed tone. This is what he was worried about, disappointment. “Ugh- I can’t even be mad at you for long. We were both forced into this.” He almost perked up. “But you didn’t even attempt to sneak away when your father was distracted. You’re usually really good at that, dummy.” She playfully punched his shoulder.
“Forgive me?” Adrien’s eyes twinkled like a kitten. The aspiring designer found herself melting. 
The model considered her blush as a win, engulfing her in an ecstatic hug despite Mari trying her best not to care. 
‘They really do make a perfect Ladybug and Chat Noir…’ Clara mused at the front. She’ll endure another hour of the other candidates trying out the roles happily if it meant that she could get THOSE two in. 
Marinette’s plan involved not only losing the masks in the changing rooms but also messing up their try out as much as possible. The duo were also quite shocked to see Chloe audition and actually do a good job! As much as she’s a pain, that’s one less hurdle to jump over for them. However, Chloe’s attitude and rudeness really put Clara off so she didn’t make it through the auditions.
By the time it’s our superheroes’ turn, they put the plan to action. The masks were conveniently hidden away and the duo botched up everything they were meant to do for the auditions.
They clasped their hands like a handshake when asked to hold hands, they flopped on their faces after every acrobatic move, Adrien even fell off stage at one point, only bruising his knees and a blow to his pride. Clara and Gabriel didn’t give up on them; they found the masks and beckoned the duo to put them on.
We have the tense moment where time goes still as Marinette and Adrien eyes the masks in their hands. Silent apologies are given to each other as they slowly brought the masks closer to their faces. 
As per canon, Chloe barges in with the Mayor in tow, piles of paper in hand, claiming that Clara has no permission in shooting in France. The poor singer gets her mike thrown on the floor, much to Marinette and Adrien’s protests. Alya and co try to help Clara up but the singer runs off crying. Gabriel quietly shuffles inside one of the bathrooms, locking it and transforms into Le Papillon to akumatise the woman. 
Soon, Frightningale makes her debut, whipping everyone with her wand and turning them to statues if they didn’t sing in rhymes and dance. Marinette lures herself and Adrien into one of the changing caravans so that they can transform.
“Once again, Butterfly Breath and Little Miss Brat saved us. I thought they’re the villains as well,” Marinette hummed. 
“Hey.” Adrien flicked her nose softly. “Don’t be mean to Chlo’,” His shit eating grin only grew at Marinette’s gaping face.
“E-Excuse me!? Don’t be mean to the girl who made Clara Nightingale CRY-” She stopped mid rant and scoffed, refusing to play into anymore of the boy’s teasing. Tikki and Plagg floated out from Marinette’s twin ponytails, admiring their costumes once more. 
“You should really do something about your childhood friend, Adrien.” Tikki scolded.
“Hey! My kitten isn’t obliged to parent that bossy brat into a decent human being. He tried to anyways and it’s like she’s deaf to anything that’s humane!” Plagg countered back. The kwamis fell into an argument in a language that neither teens could understand. 
“I’ve reprimanded Chloe about her behaviour so many times, I’m starting to feel like a broken record. The more I tell her to stop, the worse she gets,” Adrien fiddled with the mask as a gloom settled in the vicinity. “Maybe she’s a lost cause…” The idea of losing hope in a friend he’s known since he was born was enough to have his chest tighten in pain. 
“Or maybe we’ll have to give her a wake up call.” Marinette suggested with a smile, laying a hand on his forearm. “This isn’t your fault. It’s her parents’ responsibility to discipline her- not you. From what I’ve seen, you’ve told her off more in a week than her father probably has in her entire lifetime. That’s better than nothing.”
“What’s the point if it doesn’t do shit?” 
“The point is that you’re trying, you’re doing your best. You’re doing what you can to help her rather than being a doormat or letting her walk over people in front of you. I don’t think you’ve realised that the torment she used to spread has lessened in school ever since you’ve arrived.”
“…” Adrien bit his lip before glancing back at Marinette, swiftly turning her around so that he could embrace her from behind. He rested his forehead on her shoulder and pressed her back into his torso. “If it weren’t for you in my life, I wouldn’t even be half the person I am now…thank you Marinette…”
All the words disappeared in her throat, face redder than a tomato. Marinette mustered the will to put her hand on his head and let her fingers comb through the tresses. 
“Where’s all this coming from?” The girl finally asked. 
“Nothing…just super grateful that you exist, Bug.” He slowly picked his head up and puckered his lips against her cheek with a pure, innocent, softness that could be rivalled by silk. Both of their hearts sped up in sync as they tried to decipher each others feelings. Is this just a grateful kiss?
Or…
Is it something more?
Feeling like her heart was about to burst out of her chest, Marinette promptly spun around to face Adrien and crashed her lips against his, pushing the boy against the wall. She was deaf to the kwamis’ sudden protests as they were pulled into the miraculouses, transforming the teens into their original suits.
Ladybug tugged and tugged on Chat Noir’s bottom lip, eyes squeezed shut as both her slender hands cradled his face. The sweetness of their lips was a huge contrast of the ferocity and passion of their feelings, evidenced by the gasps they let out. 
She didn’t pull away, no. She kept going after his lips over and over again. His touch was like fire on her body and she was burning. 
“Mm- Bug…Mari…Hm- Marinette-” She cut him off with a kiss everytime he uttered a word. Chat Noir knew that if he were to die now, he’d die happily. Ravished and thoroughly kissed by the one he loves. When his Lady’s swollen lips trailed down his jaw, teeth barely grazing his skin, Noir gripped her shoulders and gently pushed her back. 
His entire face was flushed and his eyes were glazed, as if he was in a dream like state. He let out an exhale, leaning his forehead against hers when she wrapped an arm around his middle. From all their past experiences, Ladybug knew that his silence was due to embarrassment, especially when she took the reigns. She decided to put the nail in the coffin.
“I’d be nothing without you,” Ladybug whispered into Chat’s human ears, lips brushing the shell before skipping out of the van. A sly smirk escaped her when the sound of a body tumbling on the floor and a soft groan was emitted by the boy. 
“Hnnnn that girl is gonna be the death of me, godammit!” 
Just like canon, they attempted to fight Frightningale but ended up getting zapped by the whip. They sing and dance their way through, using the lucky charm to their advantage and even waltzing at some point (whether that was to deter the akuma or just an excuse to hold each other close, neither of them admitted). 
Once purified, Clara is quick to coo and thank the heroes, even flustering them when she mentioned how much of a cute married pair they are. The Heroine whispers an alternate plan for the video so that not only would Clara not get in trouble for shooting, there’d be a way to incorporate many people. Ladybug and Chat Noir are quick to leave when she asks how many kids they have and if their children had the same costumes as them.
The episode ends with the whole class watching the video at the library, commenting and cheering whenever one of them showed up. The video ends with Marinette wearing a Chat Noir mask and Adrien wearing a Ladybug pair. This gave Alya and the girls the opportunity to tease the lovebirds about their terrible auditions before the shooting. 
“You’re right! I’d make a terrible Ladybug. Besides, I think black is more of my colour, don’t you agree, Buggaboy?” Marinette teased, eating up the way Adrien’s cheeks reddened for a split second. He knew she was never going to let up the fact that he almost combusted on the spot when she wore his mask.
“Always knew you were a furry, Marichat,” He delivered with a wink, his ego boosted with the way everyone else burst into laughter despite Marinette’s incredulous disagreements. 
“I didn’t sign up for this! Hmmph! Not even the real Chat Noir would be this mean,” She blew a raspberry and crossed her arms, slouching on her seat. 
“You’re right, he’d treat you like the princess you are,” Adrien quickly swooped in, kissing her brow. The crease between her brows softened as a result and a light blush decorated her cheeks. They darkened when everyone else quipped with how ‘smooth’ or ‘cheesy’ Adrien was being. 
“Just get married already!” Kim sighed in mock disgust. “Your flirting has put all of ours combined to shame, Agreste,” 
“Wasn’t aware that you guys knew how to flirt,” The cheeky boy clicked his tongue, quickly darting off whilst his boy group gave chase (along with Alix). A few mock threats were heard before the noise faded away, out of the door.
“Think they’ll keep him alive, Mariboo~?” Alya nudged her best friend’s shoulder, stealing Adrien’s seat. 
“I think they’d do me a favour if they killed him.” Marinette huffed.
“You don’t mean tha-aaaaat,” 
“You’re right, I don’t,” Marinette dropped the hard to get act and squealed, the rest of the girls joining, huddling her into a group hug. 
THE END.
I HOPE THIS WAS AIGHT! 
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Text
House Edge
Title:  House Edge (COMPLETE)
Characters/Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester
Summary: You're on a Girls Trip to Vegas and meet a certain hunter at the buffet.
Word Count:  9,100
Warnings: fluff, flirting, gambling, strip club, private dance, mild language
A/N:  My first reader insert try. I'm thinking this is sometime around Season 7. Maybe the annual pilgrimage to Vegas when Becky whammies Sam. The majority of events that unfold will probably be right before Dean gets the text from Sam to meet up with him. Thunder From Down Under probably wasn't at Vegas yet - who knows - artistic license and all that. Also, I don't have an extensive knowledge of gambling, so most of what you'll read is from what I've Googled. If something is terribly wrong, feel free to let me know. But, I tried to stay in the vague zone.
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Your head pounded and sloshed from the one too many Malibu Bay Breezes you’d ingested during the “Thunder From Down Under” show that ended minutes ago. Three of the nine others in your group were still hooting and hollering at the oil slicked row of hyper muscled, surreal Australian blokes on stage. In addition to the baby oil, the men were bathing in the estrogen overload and accolades washing over them. Wads of cash, stuffed into the glittery floss substituting as underwear, stuck to aforementioned oil slicked skin.
It had been fun, there was no doubt. But the lights and the music and the rabid female reactions were hitting you all at once. Kasey pulled you by the elbow and screamed in your ear. “Wanna get a photo with Faux Fabio?” She pointed to the long-haired blond Adonis with a shoulder span the width of a football field.
You frowned. “How much is that going to run me?”
“Shannon!” Kasey called across the table, still too close to your delicate ear drums. “How much to rub up to one of ‘em?” You were glad you weren’t sharing a room with Kasey. She’d be hurling in the toilet for most of the night after the number of Tequila shots she’d downed. So far. And the night was relatively early. Especially for Vegas.
“Thirty bucks, I think.” Shannon shrugged, paying more attention to her phone.
You shook your head. Your single status and mid-level office job already had you on a strict budget for this girls’ getaway weekend. “I’m good. Besides, the more up close I get, the more disappointed I think I’ll be.” Shannon nodded with a smirk in agreement, still staring at her screen.
Kasey huffed. “Well, Linda, Stacey and Mira are already in line. I’m going to see if I can cut!” She dashed off without another word.
Women skirted and pushed past your standing frame. You tried to become one with the table in front of you. Anything to avoid being pulled into the stampede or thrown to the ground, and mercilessly stomped on by stilettos and sneakers.
Even Shannon looked a bit miffed at the onslaught as you stared at her in a half-cry for help. “My God.” She rolled her eyes.
“Where did Cathy and that bunch disappear to?” You yelled over.
“Who knows?”
You sighed. “What was next on the itinerary?”
“I think any plans are out the window. Every woman for herself.” Shannon tapped on her phone. “My little one’s running a fever. I’m going to get back to the hotel room so I can check in at home.”
You nodded. The only thing waiting for you at home was your tabby, Tyrion. Your Grandma-type neighbor down the hall, Gladys, had offered to cat sit. So there was no one, human or feline, actually waiting for you back in your one-bedroom apartment in Albuquerque.
Holding your breath, you pushed yourself into the crowd, moving against the current towards the exit instead of the line for photos. The quadruple threat of your old college pals was screaming in line about which stripper had the tightest ass.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to have a good time or ogle good looking men. Far from it. But gambling was more your scene anyway. You had a pretty good teacher with your last boyfriend when it came to Blackjack. You breathed a sigh of relief when you shimmied out of the entertainment venue and stepped foot onto the busy carpet of the Excaliber’s casino floor. Your phone read 9:10 pm. There was still plenty of time to lose your shirt.
You’d popped a few aspirin and downed a whole bottle of water in the sitting area of the women’s bathroom, hoping to fend off a killer hangover in the morning. A quick reapplication of lipstick and you were ready to scope out a good table.
After about an hour, you’d split, hit, and stood with the best of them at one table. There’d been one experienced player, Ron, that looked like he’d planted roots in the seat next to you. He got to talking, as the old timers usually did, and you’d learned he was born and raised in Reno. You had a nice little chat with Ron and Stevie, the female dealer, and fended off a few men who sat on the other side and hit on you more than the cards they were dealt.
“That is not a bad takeaway, there.” Ron nodded when you decided to cash out.
“Thanks. Pleasure, Ron. You take care.”
“You too, pretty lady. Remember what I said about Roulette. You should try it once.”
The betting chips clinked in your plastic souvenir cup. “I might.”
He tipped you a two-finger salute. You wandered, your stomach empty. The buffet to end all buffets calling your name.
“Fuck it.” After turning most of your chips into cash at the counter, leaving one $50 chip in your jean pocket, you headed for the International food amalgamation that guaranteed intense heartburn and bloating in the morning.
Fluorescent lights and sneeze shields presented you with choices beyond comprehension. You grabbed a large plate and planned your method of attack. One of your pink manicured nails tapped on the bottom of the china. “Ease into it.” You decided to go with the Mediterranean spread first. Before you knew it, there were helpings of General Tso’s chicken, pizza, potstickers, mashed potatoes and French fries, along with some bratwurst and sauerkraut. The grumbling from your tummy may have been a warning when you sat down at the table for two, alone, on the cafeteria style floor. The waitress gave you a tired smile when she dropped off your iced tea.
You shoveled some sauce drenched chicken into your mouth and took in the scene. People floating around, getting up for seconds or thirds, talking about how much money they lost or won, what shows they should try to see while they were in Vegas. You chewed and stared at the formidable back of a man at the table directly ahead of you. He’d give Faux Fabio a run for his money. He had fluffy, long brown hair. His animated storytelling hands got your attention. You heard a deep chuckle and slurp from his table sharer, out of your view because of the mountain man. “Alright,” the man stated, “Going to give the Poker Room another go. Coming?”
“Nah.” The very deep voice replied. “I’ve still gotta hit the dessert line.” 
You watched the man rise from his seat, floored by how tall he was. And, when he turned, you saw how very cute he was. You’d have paid thirty bucks to snap a picture with this man. He gave you a sweet little smile when he walked past. You couldn’t help but look over your shoulder and take in the rest of him as he left. Smacking your lips and shaking your head, you turned back to your plate to resume the dent made in the food. Your eyes darted up to look at the man left alone at the table. You were pretty sure your mouth gaped open at the sight of him, staring at you. He wiped at his face with a napkin.
Oh my. If the man that left appeared sweet and cute with just a smile, this one was a boatload of sexy and trouble with that smirk. You could tell by the way he took his time inventorying you with care, chewing slow the whole time. One side of his lip curled up in another grin variation. He nodded at you in greeting from across both tables. You smiled back and then pretended to stare at your food. He tossed the napkin on his plate and stood up. You peeked up and noted he was layered in a couple shirts and broken in jeans, like his partner. Not quite as tall; but, still very tall in your estimation. You wondered what he’d look like in a g-string and bathed in baby oil.
And, oh boy. He was walking straight over to your table. Yep, he was very tall, by the way you had to tilt your head backwards when he strolled up. He smacked his lips, disrupting the beaming smile before he spoke. “That was my little brother you were checking out. Want me to give you his number?”
You had to lean back in your seat a bit more. “Um. No, that’s okay.” Geez, he was pretty. Holy Facial Symmetry Batman! 
He nodded, then smiled again. “Want to give me your number?”
You had to chuckle at the bravado. “Does that work for you a lot?”
He shrugged. “Works enough.”
“I don’t doubt it.” You decided to play along. “How long are you in Vegas?”
His brows rose up. “Just tonight.”
You tisked. “Not enough of a time commitment for what I’d want to do.”
He chuckled this time. “Is that so?”
You nodded.
He pointed to your plate. “Can I get you anything? I’m heading back up.”
“I think this should tide me over for a while. But, thanks.”
His jaw clenched. “Can I join you when I get back?”
What the hell. “Sure.” You smiled.
*
“Man, you almost kept up with me.” Dean sighed and rubbed his tummy after his third dessert plate.
“Hardly.” You were only working on your second serving of what might be considered actual food. A half hour had passed, you sitting with this veritable stranger. Talking about nothing of much importance, but having a grand time flirting, enjoying his rough and rugged demeanor and the boyish charm. One of your palms hit the tabletop. “I’m tapping out.”
“Not much for sweets?” He leaned in and studied you. Stunning green eyes twinkled with mischief. He batted the kind of lashes you could only get with a thick coating of mascara. “Or are you already sweet enough?”
“Is this like an Ocean’s Eleven thing?”
His smile dropped, waiting for you to elaborate. “Come again?”
“Am I like some unwitting part of a huge con job going down in the money room right now?”
He chuckled. “I’m not following, sweetheart.”
“Why are you sitting here with me?”
“Are you kidding?” He leaned way back in his chair, teetering on the back two legs. An arm swept out from his side in your direction. “Have you seen yourself?”
You pursed your lips. “Please.”
He raised a hand. “I’m not going to try and convince you. But I may take advantage. Commandeer more of your time, since you think you don’t deserve mine.”
“So you are a con man.”
He shook his head. That smile could only belong to the most skilled grifter. “If I was a good con man, I’d have more than a hundred dollars to my name after half a day in this ‘It’s a Small World’ casino.”
“It is a bit Disneyfied, isn’t it?”
A shrug. “Well, it’s cleaner than the ones near the motel Sam and I are staying at, so that’s a plus.”
The plate of food in front of you looked less and less appetizing as the seconds passed. Pushing it away, you really wanted to dig into the dessert that was Dean. But you’d only had two one-night stands in your life. Neither one was spectacular and left you full of regret that you’d had them to begin with. But this man. Oh, you had a feeling this man would love you and leave you with a million other regrets and create an addiction you’d never be able to fulfill again. What was that saying? Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. This man was surging all kinds of wants in your head. If you got a taste, you knew you were done for.
His voice rumbled like a storm cloud and pulled you out of your thoughts. “What’s up for the rest of your night?”
You grinned, wanting to tease out this time with him for as long as possible. Skirt on the edge of a pond of possibilities and drown in those sometimes sea green colored eyes. “I told you there’s not enough time if you’re leaving tonight.”
“Pretty good at completing a task quickly and efficiently.” He licked his lips. “I mean, taking my time, yeah, that’s always ideal. But, if we’re pressed for time, sweetheart, I won’t disappoint.” His brow twitched up.
You sighed, sounding a little too loud and desperate for your liking. “Does a guarantee come with that claim?”
“How much of a gambler are you?” He deflected the question with another.
“I enjoy it.”
“I might be worth taking a chance on, then.”
“Hm. I met a nice old man while playing black jack tonight. He talked about odds and luck and the house edge and why he loves cards, black jack especially. It works his brain and he can play for hours and not lose his shirt.”
Dean smiled. “So, what kind of hand am I? Soft or hard?”
You grinned at the innuendo, trying to keep your train of thought on its track.  You leaned across the table. He mirrored your action, meeting you halfway. His hands clasped together on the surface, forearms firm and locked. The closest stare you’d shared. 
Both thumbs lifted up in his grip and he nodded a fraction with his chin. “Well, what’s the verdict?” You could smell apples, cinnamon, and vanilla on his breath; courtesy of his indulgence in pie ala mode and his slightly parted mouth. He came into full focus now. Freckles dotting the tops of his cheeks and sprinkled across his nose. Lips that were perfect, puffy and pronounced. Sharp edges and soft curves. He watched you inventory him as he did the same, eyes scanning, crinkles emerging around them when he smiled and you thought he found something he especially liked about your visage. The gamblers and diners dropped away from your periphery. The piped in music and frantic sounds locked away in a vacuum, muffled and mumbling like the adults in those Peanuts cartoons you loved to watch when you were little.  
“Neither. You are in no way a safe bet. You’ve got a major house edge.” Your answer came out lower than intended. The slight mix of surprise and disappointment on his face at the answer made you clear your throat. You continued. “So, why gamble in the first place? Cause there’s always the slightest chance you’ll get lucky and hit it big. Flip a coin and see where it’ll land.”
The smile returned and he shot stick-straight in his seat. “I’ve got plenty of coins.” He began to rifle through a jacket pocket. “Two out of three?” You held back a giggle at his eagerness.
“I’ve got one right here.” You dug the chip out of your jean pocket. The plastic disc twirled between your fingers. “Wanna see where it lands?”
His eyes widened. “Big spender. What’re we betting?”
It was your turn to lean back. “Depends. How lucky do you feel?”
He chuckled. “Stakes? And, then I’ll let you know.”
You swallowed. “Well, Ron, the old man, was explaining that Roulette has the best House Edge for the casino. Over five percent in their favor that a player loses. Think you can be my lucky charm and push those odds in my favor?”
He nodded. “What we talkin’? Street or split bet?”
The man knew his games. You smiled. “Straight up.”
His head tilted back. “Whoa. That’s a helluva lot of luck.” A finger pointed back and forth between the both of you. “I help you hit the jackpot and…”
You grinned. “You hit the jackpot. Call the shots for the rest of the night. We go wherever. Do whatever.”
His lips curled into an “O” as he tried to hold back his own grin. He nodded in thought. “If you lose?”
You shrugged. “Buy me a drink at the nearest bar, share some more stories, then we shake hands and say it was nice meeting the other.”
He raised his hands. “Well, I will take those odds. Let’s go find us a wheel.” His tall frame bolted out of his seat, beaming a smile at you.
Your heart sped up. There was no way he was winning this bet. But he seemed up for spending a little more time with you regardless. And that said something. You reached into your purse to drop a tip on the table but he’d already beat you to it.
“Lead the way, sweetheart.”
You nodded and wandered from the restaurant to the massive casino floor. He towered next to your side, the elbow of his jacket brushing against the sheer material covering your biceps. He smelled amazing. When you stopped in the middle of the floor to get your bearings and looked up to ask what direction you both should head, you found him gazing at your cleavage in the strappy surplice top. The look on his face shot straight to your core.
His eyebrows shot up at the realization he’d been caught ogling. “What’s wrong?”
A flush of warmth flooded your face. “We’re using your luck here. You pick the table.”
“Lot of pressure.” He mumbled.
“Lot at stake.” You countered.
“Alright.” He nodded to the right. You followed him, weaving through the crowd, now having the chance to notice his bowlegs and how very wide his shoulder span was. He was wearing entirely too many layers to your liking. But, you got to bathe in the wake of his scent and imagine how very pert that ass was under that denim. He halted without warning and you put the brakes on your stride, inches before careening into his back. His fingers pointed three tables over. “That one.” He looked over his right shoulder and grinned, finding your body and face quite close. “Step right up.”
You took the lead again and inhaled and exhaled deep, taking the one empty seat at the Roulette table. The wheel was currently in motion, the ball spinning, holding the breath of every gambler with a stake on the result. You heard the clicking of the ball along the slots as the rotation slowed, deciding on its destination.
Dean slid his standing frame along your right. He was warm, solid. He tipped down to whisper in your ear. “Sure you wanna go for a straight bet? Making me think you don’t even want a little fun time with me. We could lower the stakes. I’d be more than happy to let you call the shots for the rest of the night.” The offer dripped out of his voice with a deep intensity, low and tempting.
You would not meet his eyes again, already picturing the sexy smirk on his face. He would distract you, make you cave. “Nope.” You responded. “All in. Go big or go home.” You pulled out the chip from your pocket as the winning number was called. A mixture of whoops and grumbles emerged from the dealer’s announcement. Chips were swept over and around the table.
He sighed and rose up, waiting for the table to be cleared and for the dealer to tell everyone to place their bets. “Okay. What number?”
Your mind reeled with the possibilities. “When’s your birthday?” You asked.
“Seriously?” He chuckled.
“Yep.” Your eyes wandered over the red and black numbers on the green felt board. The all clear was called and chips scattered in place with both hurried and tentative fingers of various betters.
“January 24th.”
“So, we could go with 1 or 24. Red or black?”
Your body startled with the pressure of his hand at the small of your back. “Black.”
“24 it is then.” You gulped and placed the chip with care over the number. It rested there alone, a single play amid a multitude of others.
His fingers tapped against your skin in anticipation. “Well, it was fun while it lasted.” He joked. “Maybe as a parting gift you’ll give me your number.”
You smiled, focusing on the slight swirl of his fingers now, imagining what they could do to other parts of your body.
“No more bets.” The dealer called and waved a hand over the table. The wheel spun in one direction. The ball clicked and whirled in its lane in the other.
You thought about what Blackjack Ron had said earlier. Roulette, straight bet odds were 35 to 1. You could view that bet as a drowning man’s last ditch effort to keep their head above the water’s surface. Hold out for that raft to save them, give them a second chance to get things right. Or, you could view it as something as simple as hope. Hope that great things sometimes happen when you take a risk. You should try it once. That’s what Ron had said. 
You closed your eyes as the wheel slowed and the ball eased in its race for the finish line. You replayed that little mantra, the pep talk you’d give yourself every once in a while in your bathroom mirror. Failure is always a possibility when you try. But so is success.
The dealer announced the winning number. 
Dean’s fingers froze. “Holy fucking shit!” He bellowed.
Your eyes jolted open. The dealer placed a tiny marker on “24 Black.” Your mouth dropped open and watched the chips stack up in front of you.
“Holy fucking shit!” Dean repeated. “How much is that?”
You blinked, then repeated the calculation out loud you had figured out when you threw out the dare. “One thousand, seven hundred, and fifty dollars.”
“Wow!” You looked up and assessed his face. He was floored and amazed, like a kid that was just told he had free reign in a toy store. “That’s… that’s some luck.”
“All you.” You grinned.
The compliment took him aback. There was the slightest hint of blush on those cheeks.
You motioned to the winnings. “Okay, grab some and let’s cash out. Half of this is yours.”
Even more amazement. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”
“I’m feeling generous.” You packed the chips into your purse. He stuffed some into his pockets. When you rose up, a jolt of adrenaline pushed you into a new territory of action. One filled with courage. You took your time and slithered close to his standing frame. Let parts of your body sweep along his. His brows rose higher than you’d seen so far that night. “Looks like you’re calling the shots now, Dean. We go wherever. Do whatever.”
A delicious lick of his lips followed your statement. His eyes dazzled with thoughts. “Let’s get out of here.”
*
You’d walked with him along the strip for what felt like forever. He’d gotten you a cup of frozen yogurt for part of the adventure. The warm air and pulse of Vegas fed your lingering alcohol buzz. Dean was just as intoxicating. He talked in cryptic paragraphs about him and his brother’s nomadic lifestyle. You laughed at his dirty jokes, both basking in the artificial glow surrounding you and the high of winning. But you, most importantly, let go of the decision making. 
A turn off the busy, fluorescent lit thoroughfare landed you in a much more adult amusement area of the city. And, you had an inkling, heading in the direction of Dean’s motel. You’d finished the last bit of your treat and tossed the empty cup and spoon into a nearby trash can when he stopped to read the flashing sign of a venue. 
His rapt stare forced you to look up and see what he was focusing on. The amber neon depicted the figure of a voluptuous female with flowing hair, one leg wrapped around a bright white pole. You read the name of the establishment out loud. “Sapphire Gentlemen’s Club?”
He turned to you and grinned. “Been in one of these before?”
You felt your brow scrunch together. “Well, no.”
He walked over to the glass door covered in dark film. “Well, let’s go, then.”
“Really? This is what you want to do?”
“At this moment? Yes.” He opened the door and ushered you in. “My lady.”
You chuckled and shook your head. “Are you trying to test my comfort level or something?” The question breezed by his frame as you passed.
“Something like that.” He smiled.
You really didn’t know what to expect when you walked in. A bouncer looking dude waved you in after a quick survey. Dean’s hand was on your back again, as it had been off and on throughout the evening, leading you towards the dim section of tables and booths. It was packed with, from what you could see, a majority of male patrons with the occasional token female. The tables wrapped around a few circular stages with catwalks emerging from blue velvet curtains. A dozen or so topless females danced for the pleasure of their audiences. The bass of the music rumbled through your skin.
“Here.” Dean leaned in, pushing you to a free high top right by one of the stages. Enough light spilled onto the area that you spotted the kid in a toy store look on his face again when he took his seat.
You sat across, tearing your gaze from him to the ladies wrapped around poles, bronzed and oiled similar to the male counterparts you’d been hooting at earlier that evening.
“Thought you could see how the other half lives, after that Australian review.” Dean brought up the exact same thought, only he shivered in distaste. A wave of his hand requested the attention of one of the waitresses who thankfully, for you, wore a bit more than the dancers.
“Hello, lovelies. I’m Cherie. What can I get you?” She purred over to Dean and gave you a sweet smile, dropping napkins in front of your spots. Her bare glittery shoulders and cocoa skin made you crave chocolate for a second.
Dean’s lips quirked up in a smile. You realized he’d been giving your reaction more attention than the female with big onyx eyes and raven, wavy hair.  “I’ll have a bourbon. Top Shelf. Neat. What are you having, sweetheart?”
You shrugged, continuing the little game you’d started since he won the bet.
He nodded. “Same for this pretty little lady.” The waitress nodded, about to walk off, when Dean asked, “Oh, what’s it cost for a private show in the back?”
The waitress raised a pencil lined eyebrow. “Depends on who you want the show with.”
“Are you available?” Dean grinned.
She giggled. “I might be.”
“Well, if you are, let me know what it’d be for the both of us?”
“Will do, sweetie.” Cherie bounced off with a pronounced sway of her ample hips.
 Your mouth popped open. “What?”
“Whatever I want.” He reminded you with a lick of his lips. He leaned his forearms on the table. “You ever, ah…”
An awkward giggle erupted from your throat. “No.”
He shrugged and smiled. “Thought about it?”
“Maybe.”
That made Dean’s grin grow wider. “Well, it’s only a dance. You technically aren’t supposed to touch the ladies. Sometimes, though, you get lucky. And, the way my luck is going tonight… got to give it a shot.” His fingers brushed over the top of your hand. “Get something etched in my memory for repeat viewings later.”
The touch of his fingers, light and gentle, ticklish and thrilling, hit an itch you couldn’t quite scratch. You emitted something between a laugh and a sigh. “You’re going to blow all your winnings tonight on booze and boobs.”
“Worth it. I’m getting to spend it with a beautiful partner in crime.”
You sat with him and watched the show. A country tune blasted through the sound system. The ladies all sashayed back to the curtains, flinging them back with a dramatic flair. They disappeared only to be replaced by cowboy hat and boot wearing dancers. Daisy dukes rode so high up that half of their ass cheeks bulged out. Holsters, hung loose from their waists, held fake pistols that, when pulled out for use, were done so with the most phallic inducing reminders. And all had the perkiest, perfect breasts you’d ever seen.
His fingers tangled into yours about midway through the performance. “Thank God I’m a country boy.” He tipped his head about to the twang. “So, Albuquerque, huh?”
You attempted to track the conversation and not the feel of his warm skin tingling yours. The pads of his fingers were rough and worn, gritty but not harsh. You imagined what kind of work he did to get them that way. “Yeah. Moved there after college. Got a job at a big research company. Glorified office assistant, so just the mundane business stuff that helps keep everyone employed on the books, bills paid.”
“Research?” His smile softened, listening to you.
“Sustainable energy, nuclear weapons.”
His bottom lip jutted out as he nodded. “Like it?”
“More days than not.” Your eyes widened as one of the dancers provocatively licked the barrel of her toy gun. You couldn’t help but laugh in embarrassment. “Geez, I’ve never done that with a firearm.”
Dean chuckled. “What have you done with a firearm?”
“I’ve got a license to carry. My dad taught me how to shoot when I was around thirteen. He was a big time game hunter. Back in Colorado.” You didn’t bother to go into what happened to your parents. You wanted to keep the tone of the night light and fun.
“What do you carry?” Genuine interest spread over his face now.
“Walther PPQ. But I left it back home.” You smiled, realizing he was not put off and probably carried as well. “Are you packing?”
“Oh, I’m packing,” He grinned, “but my gun’s back at the motel. Not a good idea to mix Vegas nightlife and bullets, I’ve learned.” That sounded like a perfect lead-in for a story. But he only added. “M1911.”
You nodded then asked, “Country boy, huh?”
“Yep, Kansas.”
“We could have hit Stoney’s then.”
“You would have tried to get me to dance.” He nodded to the stage. “More fun to watch.”
Cherie returned, interrupting the flow of conversation with two tumblers of bourbon. After placing the glasses on the table and eyeing the way Dean gripped your hand, she leaned in close to his ear and whispered. You struggled to make it out, giving up when it proved pointless. His lids lifted a fraction. “Well, that sounds positively delightful, Cherie.” He added with a sexy swagger. “Think you can get yourself one of those cowgirl outfits?”
She nodded. “See what I can do. Jimmy’ll come by for you two in about a half hour then.” Another nearby table called her away.
Dean grabbed his glass and raised it for a toast. “To Vegas.”
You shook your head and clinked your glass with his, mumbling. “To Vegas.”
*
The sparkling beaded fringe curtaining the doorway was a nice touch. You pushed through the strands and took in where you’d be with Dean for the next twenty minutes, along with Cherie, who was on her way. It was enough privacy for an intimate dance. Safe enough, you imagined, that if one of the women had to call for an assist from a handsy client, someone could be there in a flash without impediment. Burly Jimmy, about a foot taller than Dean, seemed to be the bouncer/bodyguard for the ladies and waited outside in the hallway.
“Really playing up the Sapphire theme, huh?” You asked Dean for his thoughts on the decor. There were two blue velvet, plush armchairs in opposite corners of the tiny eight by eight space. Two of the walls were floor to ceiling glass and a tinted overhead light washed everything in shades of midnight blue.
“Fancy.” He teased. “One of the deluxe rooms.”
The two bourbons you had milked at the table for the last half hour had sizzled your senses with a warm euphoria. Almost like you were watching yourself in some sort of out of body experience. Had it really only been a few hours since you’d seen your girlfriends? You glanced at your watch and confirmed in the spin of your head it was a little after midnight. Your brain and body were wired and alert due to the proximity of this man pushing all your buttons tonight. It was raw, racy, a revelation in facets of sexiness you’d never had the honor of being in the presence of. Until tonight.
He’d teased with playful touches; flirted with that outlaw mouth; melted you with heated stares; worn you down with roguish charm; and hinted at some heavy shit  that made you wonder how broken he might be under all that attractive armor. The alcohol had let his guard down a few times.
“Hey.” Dean snapped his fingers and brought you back. “You still with me, beautiful? I think we need to cut you off.”
You clicked your tongue and shot him with your finger gun. “Might be right, partner.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. Think so.” He rubbed his hands together and spotted a touchscreen in the wall. “Huh, even get to pick the music. Real fancy.” He pointed to one of the chairs. “Get comfy.” He tapped some buttons. You slid into the cushion, trying not to imagine the amount of bodily fluids embedded in the fabric. It did smell nice and clean, almost antiseptic, so that settled one of your racing thoughts. Your stare lingered over at Dean, a pensive look on his face as he decided on the tracks. It had to be illegal for someone to be that handsome without even trying. “Damn, it’s hot in here.” He pulled off his jacket and one layer of flannel, draping them over the back of the empty chair. His simple black t-shirt strained over his shoulders, biceps, chest. The alcohol had to be part of the reason he looked so perfect. No way, you kept thinking, no one’s that perfect.
The beads parted and Cherie strolled into the room. She had certainly done what she could to honor Dean’s request. She wore the same white vinyl hot pants and matching color stripper pumps that comprised her waitress attire. But she’d gone full on country bumpkin with a plaid flannel tied in a knot under her push up bra, and a cowboy hat.
“Did you pick your tunes, Cowboy?” She flirted at Dean.
“Yep.” The wide, cheesy grin spread over his face.
“Have a seat, time’s a wastin’.” She was working the southern accent, too. Dean hopped onto the other seat cushion and wiggled his ass into position. He also wiggled his eyebrows like a cartoon villain at you. You giggled. 
Cherie tapped the screen. You were unsurprised by the country music that filled the room at a respectable volume. “Jimmy explain all the rules?” She asked and began to gyrate her hips to the song.
You nodded and replied, your eyes bouncing from Cherie to Dean, “You get to touch us, we don’t touch you. Stay in our seats. If we aren’t sure if we can, ask first.”
Cherie twirled and stopped to smile down at you. “I bet you were top of your class, hun.”
Your cheeks heated up at the flirting. This woman was obviously younger than you by at least a decade and was calling you hun. Dean’s jaw clenched at your reaction.
“So, what brings the two of you to Vegas?” Cherie turned around, giving you a full face of her curvy hips and tiny waist. The white pants almost glowed in the light and you could hear the slight squeak of material. Her moves were smooth, fluid, second nature.
Dean was getting a full face of the cleavage peeking out of her shirt as she bent down to give him a nice view. “Romantic getaway for my girl, here.” His eyes drifted over to you, past Cherie’s elbow, with a smirk.
Oh, this is how we’re playing it now, you thought. You had to admit the idea of you being his girl was absolute heaven.
“Aw, how sweet. How long you two been together?” She rose up, her hands gripping the back of her neck, elbows jutting out like wings. She twirled to look at you. She backed into Dean’s lap and began to circle and skirt her ass along his thighs. Cherie blocked his beautiful face with pink flannel. The only Dean reaction visible were his fingers latching onto the armrests like a vice.
You stifled a giggle. “Five years.” You threw out the first number you could think of.
“A lot of man to be working with for five years.” She smiled.
You couldn’t argue with that.
“Alright if I put my hands on him, darlin’?”
You heard Dean moan. How could you deny him? And, how fun that she was asking you for permission and not bothering with his approval. “Of course.” You swallowed at the intimate turn things were taking.
She lifted up, turned again. Her hands landed on Dean’s knees. “Let’s let your pretty lady see how much you’re enjoying this.” She cooed and spun him in the - surprise - rotating chair. You got an eyeful at this angle of that chiseled face and the wide eyes from his own surprise at the movement. He glanced over at you, turning serious in a second. It was like someone had turned the temperature on to sauna level in the room. 
Cherie’s actions focused Dean’s attention back to her. Her fingers and long nails drifted and scraped along the surface of his hands, forearms, biceps. Her palms came to rest on his shoulders. She climbed on top with grace, wedging her knees into the cushion by his hips, clamping his bowlegs shut with the force of her muscular calves. Her heels poked out from the chair like weapons. That ass settled on his knees. Her cleavage inched closer to his face as he settled and reclined into the headrest. 
“How does he feel?” You realized you had asked the question out loud.
Dean turned to you, languid and lush, blissed out and smiling in a lustful stupor.
“Warm. Strong. All sorts of good.” She smiled at you. “Lucky lady.”
If only, you thought.
Dean licked his lips at you, delved his gaze into Cherie’s cleavage, then met the dancer’s stare. “If you think I feel good, you should give my girl a test drive.” He unclenched his grip on the armrest for a few seconds, maybe trying to get some circulation back in his fingers. “In fact, I’d love it if you’d tell me how good my baby feels.”
Holy shit. Your panties dampened at his confession.
Cherie grinned. “Well, that’s up to your baby. Woman always gets the final say.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” Dean chuckled. “I’ve gotta run everything by her, or else I’d get spanked. Can I tell you a secret, Cherie?” Dean husked out the question. Cherie nodded in interest, grinding on him now. Dean cocked a brow at the action. “Sometimes I get in trouble on purpose, just so she can spank me.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at that; the thrill and imagery of Dean naked, leaned over your lap with a bright red ass after some serious punishment from your hand.
“Sounds like you’re a handful.” Cherie snuggled down deeper, and dry humped him. “Feel like a nice handful, too.” She was humming along to the country tune. Just another day at the office for Cherie.
It felt all sorts of wrong and right at the same time, watching this lap dance. This teasing, edging. Who the hell has the House Edge in this scenario?
Dean’s hands clenched tighter around the velvet. “Don’t wanna come in my pants, Sweet Cherie. Isn’t that one of the rules?” He panted.
She laughed. “Oh, I’d break a couple for you two.” She slowed the torture and peeled off him with a groan that almost matched Dean’s. “We going for that test drive, baby?” Her hungry eyes scanned your seated frame.
“Um…” You began. Dean’s breathing regulated and he circled the seat back to face you. He grinned at you, peeking over the curve of Cherie’s hips, ready for the show.
“It’s okay. Anyplace you don’t want me touching, just streetlight. Only if you want to indulge your man.” She raised a brow. “But you might like it, too.”
“Oh, God, I hope so.” Dean mumbled.
Cherie did the same with your chair as she had with Dean’s. You tilted, looking at yourself beyond Dean in the mirror. How very deer in the headlights you appeared. Cherie was a veritable tigress, running the entire show.
She leaned down, inches from your face. Her fingers wiggled and she cupped your jaw. “I won’t bite.” Her sweet breath laced with peppermint washed over you. “So warm. Don’t be nervous.” Her soft voice lulled you into a safe space. “Your big strong man over there wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Would you, Cowboy?”
“Absolutely, fucking not.” Dean’s voice shot straight to your core again. You caught him licking his lips. He nodded, entranced at the vision of Cherie guiding her hand down the slope of your neck, then cupping the curve of one breast. Your breath hitched as she squeezed and her long nails dipped into the cleavage. “How’s she feel?” Another lick.
“Hm, so soft.” An eyebrow arched when she skirted over your covered nipple. “And excited. Still green, sweetie?” You nodded. Cherie tipped off the cowboy hat, sliding it over the crown of your head.
Dean rumbled out a low moan. You thought you heard him curse under his breath and whisper something close to “Ride ‘em, cowgirl.”
The arousal created by this beautiful woman was dizzying and the heat from Dean’s stare was making it hard to breathe. Sweat broke out on your forehead. Your stomach churned. “Oh.” Something else was threatening to escape as a sour bile hit the base of your throat. “Oh, no.” You mumbled. “Red, red. I need to get to a bathroom.”
Cherie hopped off and grabbed you by the wrist. “Jimmy! Need a trash can, stat.”
Dean jumped up from his seat. You spotted alarm on his face and got a quick glimpse of a decent bulge in his jeans before you groaned again at the somersaults your insides were doing. A hand clamped over your mouth as you forced down the gag and swallowed. It wasn’t going to be long before the entire floor would be covered with a Vegas buffet.
The saving grace that was Jimmy parted the curtains and slid a small desk trash can over in your general direction. Dean fell to his knees and held it in front of you. Cherie tossed off the cowboy hat you were wearing and held your hair back.
A deep inhale of the artificial lemon smell covering the trash can liner was what finally had you retching.
*
You emerged from the women’s bathroom fifteen minutes later after the whole fiasco had commenced. Cherie had been nice enough to bring you a disposable toothbrush and some toothpaste from backstage. You’d cleaned yourself up as best you could. But you were exhausted, humiliated, and planned to call yourself a cab. You were certain Dean had called it a night, leaving your sorry ass to figure things out.
How surprised, then, your face must have looked to see him leaning against the wall, Cherie’s cowboy hat twirling in his hands. He was back in his flannel and jacket, staring out onto the stage. The hint of movement by your slow trudges catching his attention, he turned and gave you a soft smile. “Hey there. How’re you doing?”
You shrugged. “I’m so sorry.” Your scratchy voice skipped over the apology.
He walked over to you. “I pushed my luck… and yours… a bit too far. I’m sorry.” He grinned and placed the hat on your head. “Cherie said you could have it. A parting gift for the both of us.”
A smile broke out on your face.
“You look really cute, Cowgirl.”
“You stayed?” You questioned.
Dean’s face contorted in confusion. “Not like I was going to just skip out on you over some upchuck. Trust me, beautiful, I’ve seen way worse.” He flicked the hat so it rose up an inch higher on your head. “So, calling us a cab or walking you back to your hotel so you can sleep this off? You are going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning.”
You tummy seesawed at the thought of a lot of walking right then. “Cab.”
He nodded and headed for the exit. “Let’s go flag one down.”
“But…”
Dean stopped, wavering in his stride and waited.
“I don’t want to say goodnight yet.”
He smiled, then sighed. “Well, I got a text about an hour ago that little brother is going off on a granola munching hike in the desert by himself.” He scratched the back of his head. “So, if you want to hang out in my seedy motel room for a couple hours, it’s free.”
You grinned, queasy but happy.
*
He’d found a country station on the motel’s radio alarm clock when you’d arrived earlier and forced you to down a bottle of water and pop a couple aspirin. The both of you were now on your third round of War. The conversation had gotten deeper as the battle continued. But there were still the light, fun and flirty moments that made spending this time with him feel even more special. 
You sat cross legged on the blanket Dean had pulled out of his duffel to spare your ass from sitting on the dingy motel room carpet. He sat across from you, back against the foot of his bed, leaning an elbow on one propped up knee, the other leg splayed out on the blanket. You didn’t think his bowlegs could manage a cross legged position and grinned to yourself at the thought.
It was 2:00 am. He showed no signs of fading, but you were struggling. Dean kept glancing at his phone but never faltered to toss down his cards in time with yours.
“Hopefully he’s okay.” You offered. The tinge of pain crept in. You knew you had to say goodbye and call it a night. It was obvious he was worried. His brother had not returned his texts and was still roaming around, somewhere. “I should go. It’s getting really late and you look ready to form a search party.” You tossed your hand of playing cards onto the blanket and attempted a slow rise to your feet. You placed a hand on the cowboy hat to keep it from falling off your head. At least, for now, your stomach had settled. The pounding in your head had lessened.
“I’m surprised your gal pals haven’t been ringing you non-stop.” Dean’s head tilted up and stared.
“I’m the last thing they’re thinking of tonight.” You hadn’t given them much thought either since the first time you’d looked at Dean hours ago. God, it felt like a lifetime ago at this point.
 “You should stay a little longer and at least see who wins. We’re all tied up.”
“We’ll just have to call it a draw.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He hopped up much quicker than you.
“Where’d I put my bag?” Your eyes found it on the little table by the kitchenette as soon as you’d asked the question. You hobbled over, letting the blood flow into your legs proper again.
As you rummaged through the contents, you heard the volume of the radio go up.
You turned and saw Dean sitting on the edge of the bed, tapping his thighs.
You giggled. “You like this song?”
“Ah, it’s pop-country. But ladies like it, right?”
You shrugged and dropped into the chair beside the table. “Where I’m from, ladies get weak in the knees for Luke.”
Dean grinned that grin you’d seen countless times that night and wished you could see for every night after. He stood up and swaggered over with purpose, in only that black t-shirt, jeans and sock clad feet. He mouthed the words to the song on his approach. Your eyes were locked on those luscious lips and how well he knew the lyrics.
Gonna stomp my boots in the Georgia mud ***
Gonna watch you make me fall in love
Dean pulled the hat off your head and slid it in the perfect sweet spot on his head. The slight tilt was sexy as hell.
Shake it for the birds, shake it for the bees
Shake it for the catfish swimmin' down deep in the creek
For the crickets and the critters and the squirrels
Shake it to the moon, shake it for me girl
Aw, country girl, shake it for me
He teased and smiled, sticking his fingers into the belt loops of his jeans and swirling his hips. You giggled at his awkward and heartfelt attempt at this show and the blush creeping over the apples of his cheeks.
You rose up and joined him, wanting to relieve him from the embarrassment. And, hell, you finally wanted to dance with him. You sidled up into his space, slotted one leg between his bow legs and circled your hips in time to his. That rhythm being something he easily adjusted to and was happy to continue. You looked up into those green eyes, wrapped your hands around his neck and felt his warm, safe hands glide up and down your back. The lyrics came to you easily and you lip synced along with him. It was corny, cheesy, unexpected, and sexy as hell. 
Pony-tail and a pretty smile
Rope me in from a country mile
So come on over here and get in my arms
Spin me around this big ole barn
Tangle me up like grandma's yarn
Yeah, yeah, yeah
The brim of his cowboy hat bopped your nose during a particularly forceful pretend belting of words by Dean. “Sorry.” He spoke aloud and chuckled.
“It’s okay.” You whispered, out of breath from everything he was doing to you. “I’m so glad I took a chance on you, Dean.” 
That one statement pulled you both out of the playful and flirty exploration of each other and the boundaries you’d tested. His focus on your face turned serious. And, even though the uptempo song stomped on in the background, his motions halted. His eyes drank you in, every inch of your face. His fingers danced along your jaw, curled around your neck, angling you up to him. To finally kiss you through the rest of Luke Bryan’s crooning.
Now dance, like a dandelion
In the wind on the hill underneath the pines
Yeah, move like the river flows
Feel the kick drum down deep in your toes
All I wanna do is get to holdin' you
And get to knowin' you
And get to showin' you
And get to lovin' you
'Fore the night is through
Baby, you know what to do
You’d died and gone to heaven; were positive of that fact. No man had ever had lips so soft, a mouth so determined, and knew exactly what to do with the precise amount of pressure and tongue.
As Bryan faded out, you heard the chirping of a phone. Dean broke the kiss and leaned his forehead into yours. You felt the brim of his hat on the top of your head. “Sweetheart…” The moan was a mixture of want and something else.
You sighed and knew. “Your brother.” You motioned over to the bed where his phone was. “You should go.”
He leaned down and kissed you again, placed the cowboy hat back on your head and sprinted to the phone. You did the same, found the contact of a Vegas cab company you’d put in at the start of your trip and dialed. You spoke to the weary dispatcher and repeated the name of the motel, watching Dean reply back to the text as he sat on the bed and slipped into his shoes.
“Not too far. Should only be about five minutes.” You nodded. “You can go. I’ll wait outside.”
He rubbed his thighs. “No way. You’ll wait in here with me.”
“Dean, I…”
He cut you off. “You surprised the hell out of me tonight, beautiful. You were up for everything I threw at ya.” He smiled. A genuine, heart tugging smile.
“The night could have taken a much different turn if I could have held my liquor better.”
He shrugged. “But it was still one helluva night. And, I’m glad you took the chance on me, too.” He offered his phone. “Put your number in.” You smiled and did as asked, then handed it back. He shot you a text. “There. Now, you have mine.” He pulled a business card out of his wallet. “And, here. Don’t ask questions, but if for some reason that phone stops working... call this number and say you need to get in touch with Dean Winchester.”
You read the card. “FBI Director, Mike Kayser?”
Dean raised both eyebrows.
“Okay.” You slipped the card and phone in your purse. Headlights flooded through the motel curtains. “Well, that’s my ride, I think.”
Dean stood up and opened the door, walking out into the early morning with you. The yellow cab idled in the parking lot. He waved at the driver, then turned you in his arms and stared at you hard. “You send me a text when you get into your room.”
You chuckled. “You’ll be roaming the desert like Jim Morrison by then.”
“Please.” That soft smile again.
“Okay.”
He grabbed your face with two warm palms, angled you in just the right way so he  could dip down and kiss you under your cowboy hat, soft and slow. He whispered in your ear. “I wish I could be your safe bet.”
You gave him one more peck, then walked to the cab. When you opened the back door, you turned and called out. “What would be the fun in that? Flip a coin and see where it lands every once in a while, right?”
He gave you a two finger salute and smiled that Dean Winchester grin. As the driver nodded at your destination and turned out of the lot, you watched him, standing, waiting for you to disappear from view. You held onto that grin. Closed your eyes. Committed it to memory. And hoped you’d see it again.
THE END
***Luke Bryan - Country Girl (Shake It For Me)
MASTERLIST
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r3b3lgrrrrrrrl · 4 years
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A LunaTic and her Gunn (Part 109 1Xs2) "Welcome To The Hotel Diablo"
@crystalbaby12 @5sosfam1dlover @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @rosefilledhearts-blog
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Luna and Ashley may have a strangle on the #1 slot with Nightmare sitting tight for it's seventh week but Colson continues to control a vast majority of the Billboard Top 20 Pop Charts as Hotel Diablo debuts at #5. Not only with the two hits he has with Luna and Dom but also including a few of his own singles.
I Think I'm Okay has been holding strong at #2 for the last four weeks. Keeping the #1 position on the Alternative Charts for it's third also. Bad Things having it's own place at #3 on the Pop Charts for it's third week. Hollywood Whore is up three slots, grabbing the #5 spot this week while THAT Type replaces it at #8. El Diablo is sitting at #11 for it's own consecutive week while Bebe's climbing back up alongside THAT Type as Candy makes it's entrance at #19.
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Landing in Cleveland, everyone is pumped. Luna, Pete, Sam, Benny, Ashley and Dom excitedly passing Congratulations to The Boys over Hotel Diablo's immediate success. Everyone's coming in to town tonight. Meeting up for a full performance of the album at the Agora Ballroom for fans then another more intimate performance at Velvet Dog for the album's release party.
Dispersing from the hanger, Slim heads to his own Ohio home, Baze taking Sam along with him to his. Pete, Ashley, Rook, Dom and Benny dipping out to Colson's Cleveland House to meet up with Bullet while he immediately goes over to Emma's with Luna to see Casie.
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"Oooh, Sugar... I'm so fucking proud of yooou!! You have FIVE top 20 hits right now... We're gonna have to look some shit up, Buns, because I don't think anyone's ever done that before!" Luna gushes in the back of their Uber as she sprinkles his grinning face with kisses.
"No way. I'm not breaking any Beatles or Micheal Jackson records...." He pauses. "You really think it's possible?" Colson asks with hopeful look twinkling in his brilliant eyes.
"I do...." Luna reassures him as she pulls out her phone. "Here..." She says after a quick internet search. "You haven't broken anything yet... But you're close as fuck." She shows him her phone.
Only The Beatles out rank him with six Top 10 hits from February 29 to May 2, 1964. It's actually incredible and nothing he ever expected. For one of the first times Luna watches Colson go silent.
"I can't believe it fucking debuted at Five, Baby." He lowly admits with a slight hint of red to his sweet cheeks.
"Ohh, I can. You're whole soul is on that record." Luna replies with love.
"That's what I'm afraid of..." He says even lower.
"People always resonate with honesty, Bunny." She tells him, giving her opinion. "Why you think your fan base is so strong? Because you've always been honest." She pulls his cheek over to kiss it with her words.
"I love you." He turns to grin at her again while meeting her mouth.
Somehow, Luna always knows what to say to Colson. Whether he's at his most shittiest, pushing full confidence or the lowest of his lows, she never fails on telling him the truth in how she sees things. Colson doing the same for her. Neither being aware of deeply they truly take care of each other mentally.
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"PEANUT!!!" Colson shouts with a bellowing laugh as he scoops Casie up and spins her around.
Luna and Emma watch the two of them with their hearts oozing after they had greeted each other. Without thinking, Luna laces her hand inside Emma's and lays her head against her shoulder. Slightly catching her by surprise as she easily accepts Luna's affection.
"I love the way he loves her..." Luna sighs wistfully. "He's such a great dad."
"It's one of his best qualities." Emma agrees with a smile as she holds Luna's hand a little tighter. "Think you guys'll have kids?" She asks with a genuine interest.
"I... I don't know...." Luna trails off honestly as she lifts her head up, not bothering to mention Colson or Casie's wants from her.
"I think you'd make a great mother." Emma says, looking directly at Luna. "I see you with Case and how you make Colson a better man.... Not that that's any reason to have a baby... I'm just saying... Should it come, I think you'd be really good at it."
"Wow.... Thanks. That means a lot." Luna smiles thoughtfully.
Squeezing Emma's hand, she nestles back on top of her shoulder with Emma resting her head onto Luna's. Any jealousy or disparity from NY's lunch having already dropped away. Both thankful to have the other in Casie and Colson's life above all else.
Once Colson's finished with her, Casie greets an ecstatic Luna. The young woman dipping down to squeeze the little girl with love. Coaxing her inside with the promise of a new present to her parent's amusement.
"You didn't have to do that." Emma says after Luna gives Casie the new Nikon and tries to show her how to use it.
"Photography is my first love and she mentioned how she wants to learn, so how could I not?" Luna asks with a shrug and a bright smile. "Oh... And thanks for hooking me up with Bonnie. She's been beyond wonderful!" Going on to express her gratitude over Emma's connection and friend.
"Yeah, no problem. She had mentioned last week that you guys have been in contact. I'm glad to have helped... I can't wait to see how it turns out." Emma smiles warmly at Luna.
Colson's been watching all the important females in his life intently. Truly appreciating how easily Luna and Emma have gravitated towards each other while also attending to the youngest. It's easy to see the deep respect and enjoyment they hold for each other. Even in another life, they could easily be genuine friends also.
Grabbing Casie around the neck, he wrestles her around. Many shoutings of DAD escape as she tries to wiggle away to no avail.
"Wanna come to the show tonight?" He asks her as he slightly loosens his grip. "Don't play with me." He lightly shakes her when she hesitates with a sarcastic Uhhhhmmm.
"YEAH I wanna come!!" She grins up  at him. "Mom, can I?" She asks looking over.
"Yeah, Ma. Please." Colson pleads with her as he smirks.
"Ash gonna be there?" Emma asks to Colson's nod. "She'll bring her home after the show?"
"Lemme check." Colson reassures her as he let's go of Casie and digs into his pocket.
While Colson's on the phone, Luna chats with Emma about an array of things. Tonight's shows and the upcoming weddings along with Casie's findings and her adventures during the tour. Their conversation flowing easily while Luna continues helping the little girl figure out how to take pictures with her latest, prized possession. Her attentiveness not being lost upon the mother just like her dad.
"Ash said she can drop her off tonight before the album release party and then I'll just pick her up tomorrow before the Pop Up." Colson interupts them when heading back into the kitchen.
"And you'll keep her until when?" Emma asks.
Colson looks at Luna. "Uhhhh..." He hesitates.
"My girlfriend Deanna is flying in on Monday to try to finish up the wedding fittings... So Tuesday by the latest if that's okay?" She shrugs at Colson before looking at Emma.
With Casie's eyes pleading and her body hopping around her, it's hard for Emma to resist. Not that there's any reason to. Laughing, she says Yes to her daughter's excited hugs and kisses.
After Luna convinces Casie to leave her camera at home tonight, they hug and kiss Emma GoodBye. Arrival texts being promised as always before the trio wave GoodBye from inside the Uber.
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Back at The House, Colson's stoked to find Mod, Noah, Phem and Caroline. Along with a ton of packages and everyone else. Opening the boxes, he starts to shout for The Gang.
"Yo!! Pull up!!" He hollers. "I got one for you. And one for you. One for you and for you...." He says, handing the small boxes to Caroline, Phem, Mod and Noah before calling the others over that aren't within his long arm's reach.
A box goes to Slim, Pete, Baze, Casie, Rook, Dom, Benny, Bullet, Ashley and even Sam. He sets two boxes to the side for Ashleigh and Dub. Along with a handful of other's, amongst them are ones for Naomi, Trippie and Skies. Pulling Luna close, he hands her hers.
"Aight, bitches open 'EM!!" He shouts with a huge chuckle and grin.
Inside the box is a beautiful, thin, platinum and diamond encrusted Double X pendant on a slim rope chain.
"You're determined to have yourself all over me, hunh?" Luna asks with a snicker as she looks up at him.
"You fucking know it! Two rings, two tattoos, two necklaces. Two times, Kitten. Two times!" He grins wider at their inside joke while scooping her up to kiss her as Thank Yous explode all around them.
"GANG!! GANG!!" Slim shouts as he throws his arms up into an X.
Colson puts on Luna's necklace as Ashley helps Casie with hers. Everyone else assisting one another. Walking into the kitchen, Luna grabs a can of Sprite and an armful of beers. Passing them around, she opens Casie's soda before cracking her own beverage.
🎼Mothafuckas//KNOW//Who rides wit THIS Gang//By the way we be rockin'//Our Double X chains//They too soft//To know//HOW HARD UP WE CAME// Still swangen' around//Keepen' that//Bangen' A Rang thang//Got the baddest bitch//Locked wit tattoos and a rang//Checkin' into HOTEL DIABLO//You know shit's gon' be//FUCKIN' INSANE🎶
Colson shouts, bouncing around as they toast to Family and Hotel Diablo. His intimate circle hooting at his epic freestyle while Luna rolls her eyes and kisses his jawbone. In his soul he is still very much a Wild Boy.
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"Oh, Bunny..." Luna coos as her thighs tighten around Colson's waist.
They're upstairs in the shower getting ready for Colson's Big Night. He grips her ass as she clutches the back of his neck, thrusting him deeper inside of her. Both are panting in the steamy air as they suck on and fuck each other passionately. Pulling on the other's hair as their bodies throb and they pound themselves into one another.
"Fuck Kitten, you ready?" Colson gasps when he feels himself tingle from the upcoming explosion.
"Mmmhmmmm...." She moans as she bucks against him faster, giving them both permission to let go.
"Fuuuuuuuck....." They both sigh out in content as Colson continues to hold Luna and they rest their faces in each other's necks.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
"I have something for you..." Luna says while they're both still naked from their ShowerFuck, offering up her black portfolio case after finding it amongst their luggage.
"What's this?" He asks with intrigue, remembering the last gift the leather casing had held for him.
"Fuck.... I gotta get that framed." He suddenly thinks. "It'd be perfect in The Brownstone...." His mind drifts as he begins to muse to himself.
"Open it..." She encourages him with a gleaming smile. "I've been working on it for a minute..." She says as her lips drop into a tiny secret.
Unzipping the case, Colson is presented with another canvas. This time displaying an oversized painted replica of their punked out bunny. The background is a deepish purple with edgy whisps of creams and light colored violets flowing through out it. Making the hints of color in the white cartoon animal pop out of it's heavy black outline. The feeling easily representing Hotel Diablo's black and purple atheistic.
Arranged around their matching tattoo, with some items being embedded into the canvas, are physical pieces from The Tour. Their key card from The Watergate, the crumpled receipt from their coffee order in Detroit, a ticket stub from the planetarium in Texas. Amongst them is also the peeled off lable from their bottle of SpringBack 1919 they had shared in the San Francisco speakeasy and her BackStage pass from the Pittsburgh show. All secured and decorated with a slight black outline to showcase each of them.
A little larger than his huge thumb are eight small, intimate pictures of the two of them sprinkled throughout. Some are selfies but other's aren't. Luna breaking her own rule and using other's photography in her art. Angled in the the bottom right corner, in a black and light purple twist, lays a mutilated copy of Luna's lips spelling out Bad Things. Dotted in an iridescent paint to make it sparkle in dark wonderment. Fully tying the whole piece together.
Luna's art is truly like no other's. Combining multi-medias and dimensions with her muse's soul lingering inside of it. Colson's eyes are wide the way they were the night she gave him his first gift.
"Ready?" She asks, popping the switch sitting underneath as he stares silently holding her work.
Their bunny's eyes light up in a low, blue glow from the tiny bulbs buried deep inside the canvas. Colson's heart stops. Reminding him exactly of the night they met.
"Holy fuck, it's beautiful." His heart explodes once it begins to beat again. "How the FUCK does she do this shit...." He thinks in admiration as he continues to look it over.
"Wow." Is all he can say as he stares at his gift.
Luna watches as Colson takes his time absorbing the new piece. Her soul gleaming as he excitedly points out all their little memories. Once he's fully taken it in and sets it down, Colson pulls her in with one strong arm by her waist. Giving her a meaningful kiss.
"You like?" Luna asks with soft eyes and a loving smile.
"I fucking LOVE." He easily declares.
"Cool." Luna smirks, replying just the same as before as she kisses him back and wraps her arms around his waist.
"Thank you." He tells her as he runs his long fingers along her wet skull until his large hands cradle her head.
Colson kisses Luna with a passionate gratitude. Dipping their naked bodies onto the bed, he slowly and sweetly makes love to her. Taking his time as he softly kisses her while overfilling her body with himself. Running her hands lightly along his body, Luna enjoys their tenderness.
"Oh SHIIIIT..." Luna lowly moans as he kindly gives them both exactly what they want.
Sighing contently, wrapped in each other Luna and Colson let their kisses linger on each other's lips. Genuine and truthful I Love Yous being passed between them as they enjoy their quiet, intimate moment together.
Finally gathering themselves, they proceed to burn and chatter together as usual while they get dressed. Colson still railing his preference of Adderall while Luna pops her own three percs. She's trying hard but the gaping hole that ripped her shoulder muscles in two REALLY fucking HURTS.
Colson's dressed in all black while Luna pulls on loose, ripped jeans and a white crop top. A red and black flannel loosely tied around her waist as her hair flows wildly with a touch of natural curl.
"Make sure you wear your ring tonight." Colson tells her as he pecks the top of her head.
"Always do..." Luna gives him a weird look as she tosses up both hands, wiggling her fingers to display each of her beloved rings.
"Fucking better." He taunts her, slapping and jiggling her ass cheek to her pleased giggles as they walk out of the bedroom.
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The Agora Ballroom is sold out and jam packed. Colson is putting on a special concert to debut Hotel Diablo in full to ONLY his hometown.
Everyone is there. Colson, Ashleigh and The Boys. Luna, Casie, Pete Ashley, Dom, Sam and Benny. Mod's there, so is Caroline and Noah. Trippie Redd, Naomi Wild and Lil Skies all coming through along with Phem to perform their features. Backstage easily overflowing with artists and friends as Dub and Johnny come trickling in with a few other long time Cleveland friends. Sporadic industry pals making their way around also.
"What's happenin', My Dude?" Colson happily greets his friend with a dap and huge hug.
"Nutten' man... Worken' on the album, taken' care of Baby Girl. You know how it be.... What's poppin' wit 'chu?" Dub asks nodding in Luna's direction.
"You talk to Slim, hunh?" Colson shakes his head with a grin.
"More than your bitch ass." He replies with a joking tone.
Colson can see Luna but with the crowded room it's hard to get her attention. "Thanks Tommy." He thinks, smiling to himself, knowing exactly how to grab her.
"Hold up." He tells Dub before cupping his mouth with is hands and hollering "BROOOOKLYYN!!"
"This man..." Luna's mind laughs as she looks for Colson. Catching his eye quickly, she smiles brightly at him. "FUCK, I love his stupid ass." Her brain continues to tease her as she makes her way towards him.
"What's up, Ya Nut?" She chuckles once she reaches him, standing on her tippy toes to kiss his lowered cheek.
"Kitten, this is one of my bestfriends Dub. Dub-O... My Bitch, Luna fucking Smith." Colson beams with pride as he introduces the two.
"It's so nice to finally meet you! The way Colson talks about you, I feel like I already kinda know you." Luna says warmly as Dub loosely accepts her hug.
"That's funny because he ain't told me shit about you." He answers her with a snide look at Colson.
"Oh. No pleasantries? Straight to the Gate? Aight. What's good?" Luna's tone changes immediately as she pops her chin out with her last words.
Colson starts to laugh when Dub's top lip snarls at her fierce response. Cocky in his own right, Dub doesn't hesitate to hit back.
"You tell me, seems you always got my boy caught up in some shit." He cuts.
"Excuse me?" Luna draws back with her eyebrows furrowed.
"What the fuck you talkin' about Dub-O?" Colson jumps in with a slight attitude, just as confused as Luna.
"The streets speak, Kells." Dub says turning to Colson. "Word is Eminem's gunnen' for you even harder after whatever YOUR bitch pulled in Detroit." He continues as he shoots a glare at Luna.
"Motherfucker, you're out 'chour mind." Luna laughs at him. "And your streets don't know SHI..."
Colson cuts her off before she can finish, questioning his friend "What the FUCK you talken' about, Dawg? Luna held shit down as always and fuck that little bitch ass pussy. Let him come see me. I'll fuck his punk ass up again." Colson spits out.
"Bunny, don't." Luna says as she slips her hand into Colson's, both knowing she's trying to hit that natural anxiety reducer. "Look, I don't know what you heard and honestly, I don't care because it ain't right." She says directly to Dub before looking up at Colson then back at him. "But you better believe..." Luna continues looking straight into Dub's eyes as she points at him with her free finger. "Imma give you a legit reason not to like me if you fuck up his night... Because bestfriends don't do that shit." Luna states coldly before grabbing Colson's chin, planting a solid kiss on the side of his jaw and stalking away.
"WHAT THE FUCK DUB-O?" Colson balks angrily.
"I had to see if she could hang." Dub smirks at Colson bewildered confusion. "Slim said she rides hard for you, I had to see how hard." He laughs lightly with a shrug.
"You're a fucking DickHead." Colson snickers once he realizes what his friends play was. "Yo, you better get correct with her, she ain't nothin' to be fuckin' wit." Colson begins to laugh as he shakes his head.
"I see... Something tells me she can take a joke though." Dub laughs louder with amusement along with his old friend as he Buddy Slaps on the back.
"Actually, her fucked up ass probably would appreciate your stupidity." Colson continues laughing as the two of them turn towards the BackStage madness.
Luna's grooving. She'd love for all of Colson's friends to like her but unlike him, she doesn't give a flying fuck if they do. Honestly, she could give a flying fuck if anyone likes her. The less people that like her, means the less people that she has to unwillingly talk to.
Oddly enough, she's a hypocritical social butterfly. Floating around as she hangs out with their friends and kindly introduces herself to Naomi, Trippie and Lil Skies. Meaningfully gushing and talking to each of them regarding their personal contribution to Hotel Diablo. Going as far to tease Trippie about his Plan B, yeah. She loves the whole album, how could she not express her adoration and appreciation towards their work on it.
"Kitten..." Colson calls for her.
"You're on in 20." Ashleigh says, trying to redirect him.
"Hold on." He says putting up his index finger. "BROOKLYN!!" He says a little louder catching her attention.
"Hmmm?" Luna asks once she reaches him.
"I FUCKING love-LOOOOVE YOU!! He declares as he wraps a long arm around her waist and plunks a heart felt kiss onto her lips.
"Love you, Bunny." Luna giggles in sheer content as she pulls him in for a tight lip lock. "Fuckin' kill 'em." She grins as she squeezes his ass and sends him OnStage.
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The Band had been teasing his unknowing fans all throughout June with Sex Drive as they waited for his set to begin. Those who had experienced it, make the connection immediately and are going wild. As Cara's voice floats over top of them, welcoming them to The Hotel Diablo, the venue erupts into an excited explosion.
Colson is electric and in rare form tonight. The success of his album finally sinking in has him running, dancing and jumping like an overexcited puppy.
Luna's SideStage with Casie, Ashley, Pete, Ashleigh, Sam, Dom and a few others kicking out the lyrics to El Diablo as they bounce to the contagious hit. Jumping and pumping their fists as they pass bottles of Jamison and rattle along with Colson.
🎶I KNOW//PEOPLE HATE ME//JUST BY MY APPEARANCE//YOU MOTHERFUCKERS//CAN'T BE SERIOUS//EH🎶
Luna and Ashleigh shout as they bop together and thrust their fists into the air. Dropping their curled hands as they continue spouting about throwing dice and keeping their circle tight. Spinning their fingers in the air as they groove and grin at each other laughing. Pete headlocks Luna making Ashley shove him as AJ opens up with Hollywood Whore. Stopping them all in their tracks as the sweet reminder of Chester radiates through their souls.
Riding the riff side by side, they recite the lyrics alongside Colson. Happily joining them is Mod, Noah, Caroline, Phem, Johnny and Dub. Whose intently watching Luna. There was only a half truth to his rudeness towards her. He don't trust THAT Bitch at all. He also hasn't spoken to Slim in a week either.
As the bass kicks in the group of them slam into each other. Luna holding Casie's hand and protecting her with her body as they continue to sing along and bash into one another. The crowd is insane. Shouting the chorus along with Colson as he raps about two faces trying to fit in to his world when there's no new space while wanting to get him to commit third degree murder. Undercover exposing those who tried to play him like a Hollywood Whore in the City of Danger. Watching Colson rip into his guitar makes Luna's nipples hard as her pussy begins to salivate for him. He's fucking hot. On and off stage.
Colson talks to his family about the relevance of the song as the main chords to Glass House lowly play behind him. He mentions how he misses too many of his friends. Chester, Nipsey, Mac... Too many to list. Luna can hear his voice break slightly as he asks the crowd to sing along with him and Naomi.
Luna doesn't sing. She can't. It's one of the many songs on this album that breaks her heart too much. Holding Casie against her, she wraps her arms around the little girl's shoulders as she tries to hold back her tears. The ballroom is shouting along with Naomi as she begs to be thrown into damn flames and to be buried with gold chains. Luna braces herself and Casie for the most gut wrenching part of the entire album.
🎶Lately//I've been sick of livin'//And nobody knows//How I'm really feelin'//I always hated to smile//But I keep//What is killing me//Hidden inside//I didn't sign up//To be the hero//But I don't want//To wind up a villain//I put my daughter to bed//Then attempted//To kill myself//In the kitchen//Yeah//I should've screamed//But//Nobody listenedSo I passed out//With the blood drippin'//In this glass house//Feelin' like a prison//Me and death//Keep tongue-kissin'//I just fell out//With my lil' bro//The life gettin' to us//The drink gettin' to us//The drugs gettin' to us//It's highway to hell//And everybody knew//What the fuck//Were we doin'?🎶
Colson runs the bars flawlessly. Luna can't help the tears that drop from her eyes as her breath shudders. The truth of his lyrics are too painfully as she holds Casie a little bit tighter. With her mind flashing back to Justin's blank eyes she can't help the range of emotions she feels while thinking of Casie dealing with Colson in the same situation. Luna closes her eyes as she holds the little girl close and wishes for the song to end.
It does. The context of the next song isn't any easier though as Burning Memories kicks in. Colson's words shattering Luna's heart into a million pieces. The recording is nothing compared to his live voice finally asking his mother how she could leave him for another. Luna can only slightly vibe with everyone else as they sing about him dying before he wakes. Lil Skies comes out to the crowd's cheers to ask for Love and Truth before Luna's soul flips with the liquor in her stomach as Colson sings along with his fans about their dark days coming in the summer. Feeling the rumble of their voices, Luna finds it both amazing and soul wrenching that the album only dropped this morning, yet almost the whole venue knows all of it's intimate words.
Ashleigh grabs Luna's loose hand as she watches the blood drain from her face and tears drop from her unknowing eyes. Her touch and Pete's voice asking about More Dracula as him and Colson laugh and recreate the skit OnStage pulls Luna back to her senses.
"You okay?" Ashleigh asks her friend with concern.
"Yeah... It's just harder to hear it live." Luna sighs.
"I know..." Ashleigh squeezes her hand.
The lead up beat to Floor 13 starts flowing through their blood and Luna is quickly out of her wicked head. Smiling at Ashley, they rapid fire the lyrics at each other along with Colson. Luna laughs when he mentions what will happen upon a physical run in and Casie's hands. Rocking her good shoulder into the tiny Baker, Luna grins at her. Shooting finger guns at each other as they let off with her daddy.
🎶I heard that//They call me//Yeeeah//Let 'em in//I got somethin'//For 'em//Yeeeeah//Please forgive my sins//Blood on my//Ralph Laureeen//I can't wash this shit//Wake up//Say//Good morninnnn//Like I forgot🎶
Laughing, Luna swings Casie around from behind after singing the chorus together. Whispering Hotel Diablo along with her ASMR into her ear with a giggle. Casie cheeses while squealing and squirming out of Luna's grasp. Grabbing Pete and Ashleigh's hands as her dad kicks into Roulette.
This is Luna's favorite song on the album. She happily dances, sings and raps along with Noah, Mod, Ashley and everyone else about that Mothafucken' Rida Music. Sliding her thumb along her latest gift, Luna keeps her body rolling as she drags the double X along it's shiny string. Her and Noah grinning at one another as they share another bottle of Jamison and ask the other how many times they're gonna play with death before their 30yrs old. Cause they're chosen.
Things lighten up as The Boys joke around about Baze being Truck Norris. They were so fucked up the night Slim drunkenly tried to compare him to Family Guy skit with Chuck Norris's beard that none of them would have even remembered if it wasn't recorded. It's Benny's laugh that highlights the inside joke placed track, bringing a much needed lightness to the heavy album.
Naomi comes back in as her voice haunts the crowd. Taunting them as she sings about death in her pocket and how she feels so alive. Luna and Casie are holding hands again as they recite the lyrics along with Colson as he reminisces about him and Slim trappen'. Before he can mention his worry about passing down his addictive genes Sam scoops Casie up from behind. With so many people SideStage, this is the first time Sam has been able to make her way over to her smaller friend.
"What up, Homie!!" Sam laughs as she kisses Casie on the side of the cheek.
"SAMMY!!" Casie shouts excitedly as she turns to hug the dark haired drummer.
"I missed YOU!" Sam exclaims as she sprinkles kisses all over Casie's face. "I got you something..." She says as she digs in her pocket.
Candy is floating through the back Luna's mind as she watches Sam present Casie with three small band pins. "Who is this person?" She laughs to herself. "I wonder if this is how it felt with me..." She thinks of how six months ago she wouldn't have touched a child with a 10ft pole but now couldn't imagine not loving Casie. "Life is so fucking weird..."
"Shit Loons, I'm so sorry!" Ashleigh interupts her thoughts. "You're on in like 10 and I know you're not dressed."
"5:3666 is up after this, then me?" Linda asks as she hears Colson's opening chords to I Think I'm Okay.
"Yeeeeah..." Ashleigh answers sheepishly.
"Fuck it, how do I look because I'm not missing this song." Luna grins as she displays herself to Colson's manager.
"Great as always." She sighs out a laugh of honest relief.
"Then let's FUCKING GOOO!!" Luna shouts, grabbing her hand.
Pulling Ashleigh along, she rallies Casie, Sam and Ashley. Easily pushing their way to front right stage. Holding hands, jumping and screaming along with Colson, Dom and their fans, the group of girls rage.
🎶Watch me//Take a good thing//And fuck it all up//In one night//Catch me//I'm the one on the run//Away from the headlights//No sleep//Up all week//Wasting time//With people I don't like//I think//That something's//FUCKING wrong with me🎶
Everyone goes ballistic as Dom sings his solo. The venue is throbbing as they continue to rip through the pop punk song. Dropping their guitars, both boys jump into the ocean of waiting hands as they continue to sing together.
Climbing back OnStage, they grab their guitars again. Finishing out the song with multiple layered, intense GoodNights. The voices singing along with them so powerful, Luna swears she can feel the stage shake.
"Give it up for my brother, YungBlud!!" Colson shouts to the crowd's roars.
Phem joins The Band OnStage. Her moody voice wrapping around Colson's equally dark lyrics perfectly. His EST Fam chanting word for word with him. There is not one person in that building who isn't a Machine Gun Kelly fan. As the song comes to an end the ASMR of Luna and Colson in the studio plays over the speakers, making the walls shake in anticipation.
Dub continues to watch Luna as she swigs the bottle once more before disappearing. Like most people, he's not quite sure what he thinks of her.
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"Meh... Ash and Case seem to like her and she definitely ain't a member of The Slut Squad...." Dub thinks to himself while observing Luna. "Maybe she ain't as bad as Slim made her out to be.... She definitely got an attitude." He chuckles to himself. "Kells needs that though. Fuck... I don't know... who am I to judge.... Especially if Case and Ash bang wit her... Guess we just gonna have to see..." Dub decides as he watches Luna head OnStage.
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They start off as they have the many times before. Luna opening up delicately at the piano before Colson leads her out and The Boys kick in heavy behind them. Slaying his guitar, he raps about giving one another life while suffocating in the other's kiss. Bouncing around the stage, buzzing and teasing one another while promising each other how they'll want them forever and take them where ever.
🎶I'm just a LunaTic//With her Gunn//When we're together//Bad Things happen//The way you touch me//Is better than ecstasy//When we're not together//I still feel you//Coursing through me🎶
Luna and Colson hit the second chorus again together as Rook slams into his kit and Colson continues to shred his guitar. He tosses it SideStage as he joins her for last few verses. Pulling her in close as their bodies rock together and rush for the other. Grabbing her hand The Band drops away as they harmonize the last lyrics together.
🎶I'm all in//There is no maybe🎶
As they finish, Colson twirls her out. Letting go of her hand, Luna stops. Drops her head back with her arms at different angles and pops one knee. The response to their performance is volcanic. The crowd erupting for an ENCORE as the lights begin to go down.
Colson can't hear them, just his one thought. "I am going to FUCK the shit outta her..." His mouth salivating as he scoops her up to invade her willing mouth.
"You're so fucking hot." He pants as he continues to kiss her. "I wanna run an encore for El Diablo. What do you think? We'll get everybody OnStage?"
"Fuck YEAH!" Luna agrees kissing him back. "You tell The Boys, I'll grab everyone else." She grins.
"I fucking LOVE YOU." Colson tells her with a light laugh as he kisses her once more before they seperate for their missions.
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Word Limit 1 of 2
To be continued....
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rwbyremnants · 4 years
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WARNING: this chapter is NSFW for a very graphic demonstration.
Happy upcoming Thanksgiving to my American friends! Going to try to get out some more chaps after the holidays, maybe even finish editing some of our other fics and get those up. We have a lot of backlog haha. Enjoy!
=Chapter 7
Yang actually did show up for the study session after dinner, shocking both Weiss and Pyrrha thoroughly. Even more surprising was her outfit.
“You look… ridiculous!”
Frowning, Yang looked down at the poodle skirt and canary yellow cardigan. “What? It’s what most girls wear, right?”
“Yes, but you’ve never worn anything like that in your life, have you?” Weiss cackled, falling back on the bed. “Look at you! I’ve never seen you look this uncomfortable before!”
“Shut up!”
“Now, now, Weiss,” Pyrrha put in as she unpacked their books, though she was also smiling. “Don’t tease, it isn’t kind. She looks nice.”
“After all that teasing Yang put me through? I think it’s only fair!”
Rolling her eyes, Yang sat on the edge of the bed, watching Weiss’s legs windmilling in the air. “Goofball. You said I should look ‘less like a brute’, and I tried. And it worked, didn't it? Your parents let me right in.”
“Alright, alright,” she finally laughed, sitting back up. “For the record, you do actually look very sweet! Who knew you could be a girl if you tried?”
“I knew, you jerk!” Yang protested, folding her arms over her chest. “Wow, I think I’m being insulted here!”
“You’re very pretty,” Pyrrha put in, hoping to smooth over the bickering, even if it was playful. “A-and in your normal clothes, you’re quite… handsome? Is that alright for me to say?”
That caught Yang off guard enough that she smiled. “Really? I mean, I guess if you don’t mean it as an insult, it isn’t one.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t! Please don’t think that!” But now Weiss and Yang were laughing, so she ducked her head. “W-we should probably study…”
“Yeah, okay. Just don't be too mean; I got a head like a cinder block.”
After that, they got down to business for a good solid pair of hours. Yang wasn't the terrible pupil she claimed to be; though it took a little more work than it would with the average student, she got the basics of their history lesson quite easily. The dates were harder for her to recall but they did come to the surface of her mind eventually.
Algebra, however, didn't sink in no matter how long they took on it. Both Weiss and Yang started to get increasingly frustrated until Pyrrha called for a break.
“Just give it time,” Weiss encouraged her, petting up and down her bicep as the Dragon glared down at her books. “Believe it or not, you did make some progress tonight.”
“Just feel dumber.”
“You’re not dumb at all!” She leaned up to kiss her cheek, and Yang sighed in defeat. “This is a good start. We’ll make your mom proud yet.”
“Oh, that’s never gonna happen,” she laughed harshly. “Can’t be proud of a kid you never wanted.” When nobody responded, she glanced around to see Weiss and Pyrrha looking completely crestfallen and cracked a lopsided smile. “Hey, it’s nothing, guys. Old news. Let’s, uh… let’s get back to the books.”
Reluctantly, Weiss agreed, as did Pyrrha. They pressed on for another hour or so with their other subjects, then decided to call it a night before Weiss’s father came up to insist.
“Good work tonight,” Weiss told them outside her front door, all smiles. “And hey, don’t be so blue about that equation; it’s no picnic. You have catching up to do from before. Don’t worry about current stuff, just focus on studying from where we showed you.”
Glancing down at the book under her arm, Yang let out another weary sigh. But she was smiling slightly. “Guys… I gotta say, I almost left when you laughed at me, ‘cause that was kinda what I expected the whole time. Just laughing at how stupid I am.” While Pyrrha was wincing, she went on, “But you really surprised me by being… y’know… nice. Not just the regular kind, but about me being so behind.”
“Patient?” Weiss guessed, and she nodded. “Yeah. I mean, it doesn’t make any sense being mad at you for something you didn’t know how to do. That won’t get you to learn it any faster.”
Pyrrha chimed in, “Exactly. You’re going to be holding your own in our classes in no time! You’ll see!”
Laughing with good humour now, Yang linked arms with her, which startled the other taller girl. “C’mon, Stilts. Let’s pretend to go back to your house and get my jacket. Seriously, you two… you’re the bee’s knees.”
“W-well, I… I like to help however I can,” Pyrrha said with a bright smile, in spite of the glow in her cheeks.
Weiss waved to the both of them as they walked away. “Bye, girls! See you tomorrow!” She would have considered blowing a kiss to Yang but that would only invite trouble. Instead, she turned to head inside.
“You seem chipper,” her father grumbled from his armchair.
“Do I?”
“Who was that new friend of yours? I don’t recall seeing her around.”
Weiss had actually practiced this in her head many times. “A friend from school. She’s been having a little trouble in arithmetic, so Pyrrha and I offered to give her a few pointers. I think we did some real good today.” There; no way he could see any problem with her clear goodwill.
Except he did. “That isn’t your job to do, sweetheart. Most of those young ladies in your class will turn out to be housewives or secretaries, and nothing more. But you…”
“I have a bright future ahead of me at Schnee Communications,” she droned, able to say the line in her sleep as often as it was drilled into her.
“Yes, and you might want to show a little gratitude. In a man’s world, you’re one of the few women who have a ghost of a chance at success.”
“Of course, Father. I’ll continue to do my best; my grades are spotless, are they not?”
He pursed his lips; she could even tell from the side of his face barely visible. “You had a B-plus last semester. Ironically, in home ec. But yes, otherwise spotless.”
The jab almost made her laugh. Almost. But she wanted to be done with the conversation. “Will Mother or Whitley be joining us for the rest of the evening? Or shall I retire to my room? I thought I might bathe and turn in early tonight.”
“Very well. But don’t forget what I said; look after your own interests before you worry about those of others. No one else is going to do it for you.”
Privately disagreeing, she merely said “Yes, Father” before slipping upstairs.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Weiss did as she promised. However, what she didn’t tell her father was that after a mere hour’s nap, she dressed again and slipped out her window as silently as she could, climbing down the trellis and tiptoeing across the yard in her socked feet until she got around the corner. Then she slipped on her new black ballet flats and ran down the block to their appointed meeting spot.
“What took you so long?” Yang hissed as she hopped up behind her, sliding her arms around the muscled waist. “Ah! Ooh, one of ‘em still stings!”
“Sorry!” she whispered. “For both. I heard a noise a little while ago, had to make sure Mother didn’t get up to drink herself back into her eternal wine-nap.”
Nodding her understanding, she let the bike roll away a little before she truly took off, hoping not to alert the entire neighbourhood. Weiss felt lucky that Yang wasn’t the type to tweak the muffler so it was as noisy as possible.
As they dismounted near Shopkeeper’s, Yang slid her arm around Weiss’s back and closed her eyes. “Mmm, you smell good.”
“I bathed,” she snorted. “You ought to try it sometime.”
“Nah. I think you like my natural musk.”
“That’s disgusting,” Weiss giggled as they walked inside. “But… I guess I must, since I’m still here.”
The place was a little busier that night. Women were dancing with women to the tunes on the jukebox, and one couple was simply making out in the corner of the dance floor rather than dancing at all. At their usual table, Velvet was sitting in Coco’s lap as comfortably as if she were the chair itself while the entirety of Yang’s cadre chatted and laughed. At peace with the world.
“Hey, guys,” Yang sighed as they took two empty chairs. “Sorry we can’t stay long.”
“I wonder why,” Emerald said lewdly, and a few of the others hooted and hollered.
“Now, now, it’s not polite for a woman to kiss and tell,” Weiss said primly. However, in a marked departure from all previous discussions, she wasn’t denying anything anymore.
“Geez Louise,” Blake breathed, pointing at the two of them with the neck of her beer bottle. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
All Weiss said was “Maybe”, but she might as well have said “Yes” for the reaction she got. Most of them at least clapped, if not cheered; even Cinder was nodding her vague respect.
“Welcome!” Velvet said, actually reaching out to shake her hand. Weiss laughed.
“Thanks! I don’t know, I’m still really… yeah, this is crazy! But what can I say? I’d take Yang’s pin anytime.”
“Fraternity pin?” Blake asked with a snicker. “I don’t think they let women into those.”
Emerald slapped the table with mirth. “We all know she’s gonna steal six frat pins if it means getting into her precious Princess’s skirt!”
“Hey!” Yang said, though she was laughing along with them. “Maybe don’t talk about my new girl that way, alright? She’s a high-class lady.”
“Not if she’s with you,” Cinder needled, and the others cackled and poked her shoulders, eventually making her giggle some more. Weiss tried to be offended but couldn’t seem to bring herself to do anything other than smile. They were more or less good-natured jabs, after all.
After a minute or two, Vernal came by to ask about drinks. Yang ordered them two club sodas in champagne glasses, so they could at least pretend they were celebrating in a way Weiss deserved. By the time she brought them around, Weiss was cuddled close to Yang, resting her head on her collarbone.
“We were ready to cream you,” Coco admitted as she pet up and down Velvet’s stomach through her blouse, the smaller girl sighing and completely limp as a ragdoll.
“I understand,” she replied. “But I really couldn’t know how angry she would get!”
Waving a hand of dismissal, Cinder said, “You should have been smart enough to figure it out, genius. What’s the point in having someone tutor the Dragon if she’s not even bright enough to pick up on that much?”
“Enough,” Blake hissed at her. “At least she’s trying to help her with her report card; keep Raven off her back.”
“A battle that cannot be won,” Yang snorted, now leaning her face against the crown of Weiss’s head and making the both of them hum very silently so that only they could tell – feeling it rather than hearing it thanks to their close contact.
“I don’t think so. I tried to get you to study with me before, but I guess I just wasn’t sexy enough.”
Yang blinked a little. “What is that supposed to mean, Belladonna? You’ve got a classy chassis. And you know I think so.”
“Oh… I was kidding,” Blake hurriedly told her, smile a little pained. “Sorry if that didn’t sound that way. But yeah, I am serious about the offer. If those two are busy, pull up a book.”
“Noted. Thanks, I mean it.”
The night wore on. Eventually, Coco and Velvet excused themselves to the restroom, and Emerald, Blake, and Cinder all kept up their alternate teasing and flirting. At one point, Blake came back from getting another beer and sat on Weiss’s lap “by mistake”, which no one believed for a second. It was all in good fun, and against all of her expectations, the spoiled rich girl found herself more at home with a gang of hoodlums than she ever had in her own house.
Emerald and Cinder went into the bathroom once Velvet and Coco returned, the former wearing a few red marks low on her neck. Weiss gaped at this development, but Blake explained patiently.
“She’ll have a scarf on tomorrow in school. Maybe two days in a row, if it doesn’t go away.”
“That’s so scandalous!” she protested, earning her a laugh from the others and a slight blush from Velvet. “Wow… you really do love Coco. Isn’t there anything we can do to keep you from moving back?”
Her smile faded as she stared down at the table. “No. Mum and Dad want to g-go back, and…”
“Come on. Why can’t they stay here, really? I doubt it’s because of you.”
“Well…” Shrugging her shoulders, she said, “I did ask again and got some better answers. My Dad’s been having a time of it finding work after the mill laid him off last Spring. Can’t be helped, he’s really done everything he can. And worrying about me running with the ‘wrong crowd’ only makes it worse, so I think he’s ready to leave the States and be well shut of Americans.”
Weiss filed that away for later contemplation. Maybe it wouldn’t be anything she could help with after all, but she wouldn’t know until she tried.
Meanwhile, she just noticed Blake and Coco whispering back and forth. When they were through, Coco turned to ask, “So Weiss… apparently, you and Yang still haven’t progressed past the ‘making out’ stage?”
“Thanks, Belladonna,” Yang grunted with narrowed eyes. “Apparently I literally have to say ‘this is a secret’ or you’ll blab to everybody in Vale.”
Blake shrugged. “You do. I mean, you never said it was a secret…”
“Never mind that,” Coco interrupted. “I think the princess needs some tutoring of her own.”
While Blake and Velvet were giggling, Yang groaned and rolled her eyes. “You guys are terrible.”
“What?” Weiss asked softly, fingertips raising to alight on her lips. “Am… have I been doing it wrong?”
“No, no! That’s not what they’re talking about. And believe me…” Instead of finishing, Yang just bit her lip and looked away. It was hard to tell in the darkened room, but Weiss could be reasonably sure she was blushing as badly as Weiss was most days of late.
“She’s over the moon for you,” Blake finished for her while Coco was whispering in Velvet’s ear. The other girl looked a little flustered by the words, but still nodded. “Don’t worry about that.”
Pleased far beyond a level she had any right to be, Weiss said, “Oh. Then what is it we’re talking about?”
Coco rubbed her hands together as if she were about to come into a large sum of money. “You and Yang are eventually going to want to try something… beyond a kiss and a cuddle. And you look like the kind of prude who covered her ears during health class when they started talking about our bodies.”
“Psh,” Weiss scoffed, even though the statement was a hundred percent accurate.
“So we’re going to give you a quick lesson.” As she spoke, Velvet stood up from Coco’s lap, and the other two stood on either side of her. “Pay close attention, and maybe you’ll learn something.”
The girl was so trim that it didn’t take much effort from the well-toned Dragons on either side of her to lift her up and seat her on the table itself. Weiss and Yang hastily moved aside the glasses and bottles so they wouldn’t be knocked to the floor; Weiss had noticed that even though the dive was technically abandoned, they took very good care of their refuge. Nobody ever threw a bottle or knocked food into the floor on purpose.
Then she was staring down at a pair of panties and forgot about the cleanliness of gangsters.
“Wh-wha…? What are you doing?”
“Guys, I think this is a little premature,” Yang was telling them, even though she wasn’t fighting all that hard to convince them.
“I think it’s right on schedule,” Blake laughed. “We just want her to be prepared.”
One of Coco’s gloved hands trailed down Velvet’s stomach and helped to hitch her skirt up even further. For her part, the Aussie was smiling vaguely, a little shy but mostly excited. Weiss had the distinct feeling this wasn’t the first time they had done this with her, even though she still wasn’t quite sure what they were doing.
“So… you aren’t required to participate, Schnee. Just watch. But we want you to get a good look.”
“Are you going to…” Her heart shot up into her throat. “Blake! You wouldn’t!”
“Why me?” Blake laughed. “Coco and Velvet are here, too!”
“Well… I don’t know, I thought you were less… crude!”
They all laughed, even Velvet. But it wasn’t a cruel laugh, and Weiss only felt a tiny bit mortified that she had bothered speaking out at all. Were they really going to do what she thought they were? It seemed cruel in a way. At the very least, it was improper and indecent! They were in a public setting! Sure, there was no one there except for Dragons and those who loved them, such as herself and Velvet - and she knew they certainly weren’t shy. But how could Coco possibly be alright with exposing her girlfriend to not one, but three other people?
Even as she was having that thought, she heard another voice from nearby ask, “Blake, d-do you want anything from the kitchen? I know she’s your mother - don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten. But I thought I could… save you a…”
When glancing up, she saw poor Ilia looking about as thunderstruck as she felt, eyes completely round as she gazed down at the mostly-exposed pelvis on the table. She was frozen as if a statue.
“No, thank you,” Blake sighed. But she wouldn’t be getting rid of her that easily.
“Good timing, Amitola,” Coco said with a little smirk. “You and the princess can be our students for today. Two for the price of one.”
Blake’s head snapped around to glare at Coco, who only grinned more widely. After a brief staring contest, she rolled her eyes in defeat. “Fine. Can’t hurt anything.”
“O-oh, I…” The girl almost seemed to change colours completely, from a light tan to a deep red. “What? Student? I don’t- what are you asking me to do?”
“Go stand over by Weiss and watch. That’s it. You don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable doing.”
And Ilia did it. Suddenly, Weiss found herself standing next to the smaller girl, intensely aware of how close she was. Ilia seemed to notice in the same moment, glancing up with a nervous smile. “U-um, hi.”
“Weiss. Nice to meet you.” They shook hands, and Yang laughed. “Hey! Just because you girls are being disgusting doesn’t mean I shouldn’t still be polite!”
“I didn’t say a word,” Yang snorted.
“Alright,” Coco said to get their attention. “I’m going to begin your lesson if you two are through being all high society over there. I’m studying to be a doctor, you know.”
Ilia and Weiss turned to lean down just a little. They both seemed to be of equal mind that they didn’t want to get too close, but also felt strange standing fully upright. Gloved fingers twitched the fabric aside-
Weiss closed her eyes. This was too strange for her. What were they doing?! Showing off someone else’s body for fun? It went against everything she had ever been told growing up, and even though she had been questioning a lot of that lately, this was too far, too suddenly. So indecent!
“Weiss,” Yang whispered. “You can tell us to stop, you know.”
“Ohhhh,” Ilia was saying on her other side. But Coco didn’t seem to be concerned with Ilia’s reactions.
“Schnee, if you’re not gonna look, there’s no point in doing this. Poor Velvet got up on this table just for you, and this is the thanks she gets?”
Grunting in annoyance, she turned to look down… and her breath caught.
Velvet Scarlatina had a lovely example of the female anatomy. She hadn’t known what she expected to see, or how she expected to feel about seeing it - this couldn’t actually be happening to her! A half-naked woman was on display for all to see, should they get curious enough to wander over to their table! Did this really happen so frequently in Shopkeeper’s that nobody cared?! Still, the delicate little pink petals were as beautiful as many flowers she had seen in nature, glistening with dew as if seen in the first light of morning. A sparse patch of brown hair above the area reminded her of dandelion fluff somehow. The temptation to lean in and inhale deeply rose within her, but she suppressed that; it definitely wouldn’t smell like an actual flower.
“Better,” Coco said, voice more seductive, and the spell was broken. When she glanced around at the others, she saw Yang was looking out of passive interest, but Blake was watching Yang instead. That was interesting. Ilia, of course, was staring at the pink folds in wonder as she herself had been doing a moment ago.
“Well?” Velvet asked with a slightly bemused smile.
“W-well, it’s a vagina,” Weiss said dismissively. “And a nice one, of course! But n-nothing I haven’t seen in an anatomy textbook.”
“I haven’t,” Ilia admitted, clearly even shyer. “I’ve never even looked at my own in the mirror.”
“Really?” Weiss asked, slightly surprised. When they glanced at each other, they both felt a little self-conscious; only now did they realise how close they were and what they were doing. “O-oh, I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s alright. This is, um… not what I thought I would be doing tonight.”
“You’re telling me!” They both chuckled before turning back to look.
“Glad I have your attention,” Coco deadpanned. “Now this… is the labia majora.” One fingertip traced along the peach-hued skin around the folds themselves. Velvet shivered but that was the extent of her reaction; as Weiss suspected, she was used to this sort of treatment. “The mons pubis.” Up to the thatch of brown hairs, through them, and then all the way down below her opening completely. “The perineum.”
That one did make Velvet shiver. “Coco, I t-told you not to tease me down that far in f-front of other people…”
“I wasn’t going further,” she promised her, giving her a brief kiss on the forehead to reassure her. Weiss was completely certain she meant going down past said perineum to her anus, but that was silly. No one would bother touching anyone else there. “Now, I’ll need a volunteer.”
“Hey, you said we didn’t have to do anything!” Weiss reminded her.
“Not directly. I need someone to hold her open very slightly. You can both use one hand apiece.” Coco’s hands pressed into the skin on either side of Velvet’s opening, pulling just a little to demonstrate. “Yang, do you want the honours instead?”
“That’s alright,” she chuckled, hand gently resting against Weiss’s back. “Let the new blood have the fun.”
So Ilia and Weiss each used a hand to tug to one side. It was a strange experience, touching another woman so close to such an intimate area. Warmer than she expected somehow. Velvet sighed in distant pleasure from feeling two foreign hands on her body. Ilia gulped, glanced up at Blake as if for approval, then pointed her eyes back down when she was pointedly ignored.
“Now this… is the labia minora.” Coco’s finger caressed over the petals, and Velvet could no longer suppress a soft moan. “And contrary to popular belief, this is the vagina. Not the whole thing; just this opening here and what’s inside. The outside part is called the vulva.”
“Ohhh,” Ilia breathed. Weiss had known that much, even if she had only seen black-and-white diagrams before. “So… okay.”
Leaning over, Weiss muttered in her ear, “Can you believe we’re doing this?”
“No! But I don’t want to miss anything!”
“Ready to move on?” Coco asked, even though she was currently stroking up and down Velvet’s soft lips, prompting more little noises from her. “Alright, we’re almost done. One last thing, and this is very important.”
Two of her fingers reached down and began to gently hitch up a small fold of skin at the top. It revealed something Weiss technically knew existed but had forgotten about completely.
“OooOOOooh,” Yang cooed theatrically, as if it were the unveiling of a Christmas tree or similar.
“This is the clit,” Coco said, ignoring her.
“Clit… you mean the clitoris?” Weiss leaned a little closer. “It’s so small; I thought it was larger than that.”
Shrugging as one finger moved down to touch the clit, Coco said, “All shapes and sizes. Mine’s a little larger, but not by much.”
“Looks like mine,” Blake affirmed for them, almost as if to reassure Velvet that hers was normal. The exposed specimen did glance up at her with a slight smile, even as she was writhing slightly from the stimulation.
“Mine’s way bigger,” Yang snickered. “Everybody jokes it’s because I’m such a dick. But… yeah, everybody’s different. Not really better or worse.”
Ilia was leaning ever closer. After a few seconds, she seemed to realise, and moved to one side. “S-sorry, you probably can’t see.”
“No, I can see,” she assured her, also leaning closer as they watched the finger begin to circle around the clit. “What’s this you’re doing now?”
“Getting her off.” A brief silence. “You know… making her come?” Nothing. “Orgasm?”
“Oh.” Her cheeks coloured a bit more. “Ohhhh. Should we… leave you to it?”
“No, this is part of the lesson.” As Velvet’s hips began to squirm, she went on, “If you can do this with your tongue or finger, you’re definitely going to get your girlfriend off. Well… some girls actually get off from internal stimulation more than this, but the clit is almost always the magic button. Don’t forget about it.”
Ilia licked her lips, as if she could barely restrain herself from acting on her urges. Weiss felt no such compulsion to participate. It was definitely thrilling, and she could feel that tingle return that she had managed to suppress. But she was fine with leaving this up to Velvet’s Dragon.
“You look like you want to move to hands-on,” Coco said to Ilia.
“Huh? N-no, I didn’t… well, I’m curious, but it’s not Velvet that I…” Her eyes flicked up to Blake again, but she turned them back downward right afterward. She really was trying not to be as obvious as she was. And failing.
“I definitely don’t care,” Blake told her without any hesitation. “Of course, if Weiss wanted first crack at it…”
“Stop teasing,” Weiss sighed. “You know I’m not going to try this on Velvet.” At the last two words, Blake and Coco grinned and elbowed each other. “Or at all! Do you have to take everything I say the worst way possible?!”
“Best way, you mean,” Yang purred into her ear, and she melted completely. She was the only one who could cut through her prudishness and sense of decorum like a hot knife through butter.
Meanwhile, Ilia was touching Velvet with her other hand now. Not very much, just testing how things felt under her fingertips. Coco was still working at her clit, but she was also making a lot more of an effort to lean down and kiss Velvet’s face. Reassuring her girlfriend that she hadn’t forgotten their relationship just because they were engaged in a “group activity”.
It didn’t take much more coaxing before Ilia started going down on her. Coco and Blake gave pointers, since they could see what she was doing from their perspective, and she adapted as best she could. Weiss had to turn away several times to regain her composure; this was definitely not a normal school night.
“NNhh!” Velvet finally began to moan some minutes later. “Ilia?”
“Yes?” she asked, out of breath.
“Fingers… in?”
“Alright,” Coco encouraged her when she saw Ilia’s deer-in-the-headlights look. “So you want to insert two fingers, and you want to do it perpendicular to her thigh. Not straight down or straight up, but straight in. Want me to show you first?”
When Ilia nodded, Coco leaned far over her girlfriend and demonstrated with her index and middle fingers, sliding them into the wetness. The squelching sound made Weiss cover her eyes again for a moment, and the urge to flee the room entirely was quite strong. But the moaning and the quiet “Ohhhh” from her fellow pupil did make her look again.
“This is so wrong,” she breathed as she watched the gloved fingers sliding in and out of Velvet’s body.
“A little,” Yang admitted in a soft voice, still stroking Weiss’s back. She had noticed the hand slid down to her rear end once or twice, but had made no comment and gave no reaction. “But she’s doing it right, so at least she’s gonna make a great doctor.”
Ilia had been alternately gazing in longing, and nodding as she committed this or that aspect to her memory. Then she said, “Can I try?”
“Sure.”
Hands were traded. Velvet moaned much louder when she felt Ilia inside of her - probably because it was someone new rather than the technique being any better or worse than Coco’s. This went on for another minute of writhing and panting. Taking the initiative on her own, Ilia lowered her mouth to the clit and went back to work, doing her best to bring her more pleasure. And within a few more seconds…
“AH!” Velvet cried. “I’m… it’s g-going to…”
“Keep it up, Amitola,” Coco encouraged her as she pet along her love’s hair. “Don’t quit on us now!”
Weiss watched as everything continued. When Velvet’s back arched and she cried out in sheer pleasure, Ilia started and glanced up at them. “It’s- something’s happening! It’s grabbing my fingers!”
Laughing a little, Coco encouraged her, “Don’t stop. Just finish her off first and then I’ll explain.” She got back to work. Not long after, Velvet flopped down in a puddle of sweat, and Coco nodded. “Alright. So that was her orgasm. For some women, the inside of the vagina kind of clamps down during the finish; most of us, really. It’s totally normal, and a great sign that you were succeeding.”
“I was?” Flushed with her success and her efforts, she glanced over at Blake, who merely shrugged. Her cheeks were a tiny bit pink, but she was doing a good job of playing it cool. “Wow… I m-mean, this is good, right?”
“Very good, if you want to date women. Probably not of much use if you don’t, though you could try training a man to do it for you. Not that they’re much good at that…”
Nodding her agreement, Blake looked back up at Weiss. “So, any thoughts?”
“What thoughts am I supposed to be having? I just watched a stranger do unspeakable things to one of my friends’ girlfriends on a restaurant table!”
“Yes, but did you learn anything that could be of use?” Her head nodded toward Yang, who was shaking her head and laughing.
“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. But I’ll at least inform you that I’m a very good student.”
While Blake and Coco were laughing, and even Velvet was snickering slightly, Ilia withdrew her fingers and caused her laughter to turn into a quiet sigh. Then she pulled her underwear back into place over her and patted the sensitive organ through the fabric.
“Thank you,” she made sure to tell Velvet.
“Of course. I’m… I’m glad you liked it. Always kind of self-conscious when someone new is messing about down there.”
“Don’t worry, I… I liked poking down there with you,” she told her earnestly. They were definitely sharing a brief moment between them, and Coco, her actual girlfriend, didn’t mind. It was crazy.
“Your body is lovely,” Weiss made sure to tell her with a polite smile. “And… well, I can’t pretend I wasn’t at least a little stimulated from watching, even if I’m not sure any of this was necessary. I already knew where all those things were from class!”
“I didn’t,” Ilia reminded them.
“Most students don’t,” Coco told her with a friendly pat on the shoulder as Blake helped Velvet down. “Pretty normal, to be honest.”
Just then, as Ilia was looking relieved and very distantly pleased with her own efforts, Emerald and Cinder returned from the bathroom, their hair dishevelled. “What did we miss?” Emerald asked.
Everyone else burst into laughter. Even Ilia, despite being the one least welcome at that table. Maybe that could begin to change at last.
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chocolatemillkk · 6 years
Text
The Only Exception (JS)
Request: Joe x The Only Exception by Paramore
I had only just gotten there and already I felt out of place. Everyone here obviously knew each other; they greet one another with big smiles and inside jokes that go over my head. My smile feels stretched thin as I eye an empty chair and head towards it.
"Y/N," Zoe stops me. "I'm so glad you actually made it!"
"I'm still in Brighton until Thursday so I thought it would be rude not to," I say politely. I'd recently landed a job with Zoe and she'd taken me under her wing, noticing how often I felt out of place. I just wasn't very good at mingling in a group setting-I was more of a one-on-one person.
"Do you want a bite? There's a lot of dessert on the dining table and I know you've got a sweet tooth like me!"
I laugh, "Zoe I've already managed to eat two donuts and at least four of the meringues you made! I'll just stick with my drink for now."
"If you say so," Zoe smiles. We chat a bit about her upcoming book and she asks me to come around tomorrow for lunch. When she spots Alfie, she leaves to check on something so I continue my journey to the chair which was miraculously still empty. I settle in with a sigh and look around the room. This was what I could tolerate at parties and the only thing I enjoyed: people watching.
I notice the flirting amongst people and try to push back the creeping loneliness. Romance wasn't going to solve that-I knew that already. I was lonely because I'd been staying in Brighton the last couple weeks while my home was in London. I missed my flatmate and nights out with my girl friends.
I didn't really believe in love-not after the childhood I'd had. As a child, I'd watched the two people I thought would be together for eternity crumble right in front of my eyes. Teary fights followed my cold silence had stripped me of any notion that true love existed. I watched my dad cry over a broken heart and my mom swear that she would never forget how love wasn't real. That was when I'd decided that, deep in my soul, love never lasts. Strings of dates and temporary, selfish boyfriends just proved it.
I learned I would just have to find other ways to make it alone, and keep a straight face. Comfortably distant from any boy who tried to get to know me, I was content with my loneliness-I had my best friends to keep me company. The only time that failed was when one of them did get into a relationship. But it always ended, like I knew they would.
"Hey Y/N," Zoe's boyfriend Alfie stops by my chair. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah," I nod politely. "Just taking a break from socialising."
"Alright," he accepts the excuse. "I can get another drink for you if you want? Just let me know if you need anything."
"Thanks I'm still working on this one," I say. Alfie was sweet and I had to admit he and Zoe were cute together. But of course, it wouldn't last. Eventually they'd split. It would just be tragic when it happened and I hoped children weren't in the picture.
I'm minding my own business, watching Zoe's guests interact when a pair of blue eyes catch my own. When you're a silent observer, you forget that people can see you too and apparently I'd just been caught by Zoe's brother.
Joe gives me a warm smile, the corner of his eyes crinkling and I smile back involuntarily. His smile was captivating.
He squeezes between a group and walks towards me. "Y/N right?" He asks when he reaches me.
"Yeah," I respond. I'd only met Joe once on shoot and the only interaction I had was giving him a change of clothing. We hadn't gotten the chance to talk and now that we were, I felt myself clamming up.
"You were at last week's shoot weren't you?" Joe leans again the wall beside the armchair. I lean back in my seat so I don't have to crane my neck to see him.
"I was yeah. Didn't get a chance to be introduced though."
"Zoe's talked about you," he shakes his head. "She talks like you're her literal guardian angel."
I laugh, "Glad I'm doing my job well then."
"Oh you know Zo," he says with affection. "Anyone she works with is immediately her friend-it's not even about the job."
"Well thanks for making me feel better about myself," I laugh and so does he. My tongue loosens up and I relax a little. "Your sister's lovely."
"Unfortunately it doesn't run in the genes," Joe jokes.
"It doesn't?" I ask. "I don't think I've ever heard a bad word about you!"
"Keeping tabs on me then?" Joe smirks.
"I've followed the Suggs long before working for one." I feel the blood rushing to my face. "I know your reputations."
"Are you blushing?" Joe leans down to squint at my face. The dim lighting was making it hard to see but his blue eyes are as clear as day in front of me.
"I'm not blushing!" I push his shoulder away playfully and he laughs. Suddenly, a loud voice carries over the crowds and our attention is drawn to Alfie who's saying something in the middle.
"Do you mind scooching over?" Joe asks and I do as he asks. He balances on the arm of the chair and holds onto the back of it. I'm hyperaware of how close we are and I feel the attraction. There was no denying how handsome Joe Sugg was and the fact that he'd come over here to talk to me was kind of him. But was he worth the risk, I wonder? Knowing the sort of guy he was from his vlogs-probably not. We'd get bored of one another.
"-bonfire in the back." Alfie's voice carries over. "Zoe and I are really thankful to have all of you in our lives and we want to thank you for clearing your schedules and making it out tonight. I know Zoe's worked really hard on her book and I'm really proud of her. Now let's roast some marshmellows."
We hoot and holler and people begin heading outdoors.
"Alfie sure knows how to give a speech," Joe comments.
"He is quite good with words," I agree as we stand and join the group moving out. "If I ever have a scandal, I know who to hire."
"As if somebody like you would have a scandal," Joe scoffs.
"Somebody like me?" I arch an eyebrow. "You know me now?!"
"I know you enough," Joe says mysteriously but before I can ask for an explanation he's called by someone as outside and he leaves my side to greet them. It feels like the temperature drops with his departure but I shake my head and make my way to a spot alone.
"Sorry about that," Joe makes his way back to me a half hour later. I'd given up roasting marshmellows-burning all of them-and was content just sitting by the fire as it was keeping me warm.
"It's fine," I shake my head. "You don't have to babysit me if you want to hang out with a friend-go ahead."
"Nah," I feel something being wrapped around me and realise Joe had been unfolding a blanket behind me. "Most of the people here are Zoe's friends anyway."
"I thought I was her friend too?" I tease.
"Well you're my friend now and it's too bad for Zoe." Joe bumps his shoulder into mine.
"There's enough to go around," I bump his shoulder back and we smile, sharing a silence as we observe the party around us together.
"Don't you want this?" I ask about the blanket when I spot the goosebumps on Joe's arms.
"I'm alright, you looked cold." Joe says but he hesitates so I open up my arm and he grabs the other end to wrap around him. "You didn't want marshmellows?" Joe asks once he's in.
"Do you see that pile?" I point out to a section of the bonfire near us. "I burned every one I tried-that's my marshmellow cemetry."
Joe shakes with laughter at my comment and being in the same blanket as him, I can't help but join in.
"Marshmellow Cemetry sounds like a band name." Joe wipes his tears. "I like that."
"They probably don't like it," I point to the burning pile which gets us laughing again. Joe decides to hunt down marshmellows and joins me with the remainder of a bag. He toasts them perfectly and then hands me the stick and we enjoy them, getting to know each other better. As the party wears down and someone in the crowd calls him over, he leaves with the promise of picking up our conversation later. It doesn't bother me too much-it's not like I had any expectations.
•••
The next time I see Joe is when I'm back in London. I'm out with my friends and I spot him in the club. He's chatting up another girl-typical. I decide not to interrupt his romancing and dance with my girls instead but stop when I feel a hand on my waist. I stop the roaming hand with my own and turn to those blue eyes.
"Joe," I pretend to act more surprised than I was. I note that his hand remains on my waist so I stop swaying.
"I wasn't expecting to see you here!" Joe shouts. I wonder whether I should mention I'd seen him but decide not to. Instead I introduce him to my friends who greet him politely and then give us space. Two of his friends come by and he introduces me too. I smile and pretend to hear what they're saying but the club is so loud.
"Me and Y/N are starting a band!" Joe says to his friends. He glances at me and I raise an eyebrow.
"Don't you already have one?" One of them shouts-I already forget his name.
"No this one's got a good name!" Joe looks at me with a look like I'm in on his joke. And then I realise I was; here amongst strangers, I had somebody to share an inside joke with. The thought makes me feel giddy and it's dangerously hopeful so I try to fan out the flame. Instead I watch Joe explain to his friends the name but they soon lose interest and wander elsewhere leaving us together again.
"You look good by the way!" Joe shouts and I notice that he was indeed slightly drunk.
"Thanks," I say. "You're drunk!"
"Thanks!" He says and I realise he hadn't heard me properly which sends me into a fit of laughter. He laughs with me without knowing what was happening and uses the opportunity to wrap his arms around my waist and pull me towards him. His breath brushes against my neck and I feel my heart quicken its pace. I couldn't deny I wanted him and the way his eyes glance at my lips and his hands tighten on my waist I knew I wasn't the only one.
So it's a matter of seconds before our lips connect. His mouth is hot on mine and I press my body closer to his in the already crowded space. It's the usual: we get out into the cool air and find our way back to his. He's gentle, asking me if I was alright with everything he did. It feels more tender than most one-night stands felt but to me, that's all this was. I wasn't going to fool myself and extend anything with Joe. It would end eventually and the longer it went on the stickier the breakup-especially when I worked with his sister.
The morning makes it harder though. Joe has one arm thrown over me when I wake in the strange room but his face reminds me I was in a safe place. His features are relaxed and his face loses the sexiness from last night. He looks boyish and vulnerable in the morning light but despite my heart turning to mush, I keep my grip on reality and slip out from under his arm. He shifts in his sleep but I manage to sneak out, only looking back once.
•••
I'm sat at the meeting with Zoe and our small team a couple weeks later. She touches my arm lightly and asks if I wanted tea and since I'd taken the early train with no breakfast, I agree. Right before she exits the room, her phone vibrates and I glance at it as I'm the closest to it.
"Is that my brother," Zoe can see her phone from the doorway. "Do you mind picking that up? He just has questions about when he can release info about the merch-I said to call when you were around."
"Oh right," I stumble over my words. I hadn't talked to Joe since that night and I didn't feel up to it at the moment. "Hello?" I say. The others two at the meeting are discussing something on the tablet so I swivel in my chair for a sense of privacy.
"Hey...Zoe?"
"No," I take a breath. "It's Y/N-she's just stepped out of the meeting for-"
"Y/N?" Joe repeats. "Oh. Hey."
I expected the frigid response but it stings a little more than it should have. "Hey yeah...she said you wanted the dates for the merch."
"Right, yeah." Joe responds.
I give him the dates and the phone goes silent. "Okay, if that was it then-"
"Wait." Joe stops me. "Did you leave because-are you not interested or were you scared? Was it too fast? Or-"
"Maybe it's best not to discuss this now." I say just as Zoe reurns with a kettle. "Zoe's back did you want to speak with her?"
"No I'm alright." Joe says in a clipped voice. "It's all good." I put the phone down and fake a smile, telling Zoe I'd answered all his questions. But it's a lie as I hadn't. Joe wasn't like other guys I'd gone out with. His infectious smile and gentle hands and caring nature left me feeling guilty about how I'd left him. But no, I try to hold onto reality. Nothing worthwhile would come from us getting together. It wasn't worth the risk.
But maybe he was the exception, a side in me I didn't know existed whispers. It sounds hopeful again. I squash it down.
•••
"My brother was asking for your number," Zoe says after the meeting. "I thought you two already exchanged them?"
"I've only had contact with him through you," I say, hoping it wasn't obvious to her that it was a white lie.
"I'll send your number to him." Zoe says. "That way he'll stop annoying me with a million questions. I'll tell him this week and he'll ask me the same one next week."
I chuckle at her annoyance and look back to my screen to finish writing up the descriptions for the project we were working on. Joe was leaving a bittersweet taste in my mouth.
On my train ride home from Brighton, I get a call from an unknown number.
"Hello?" I hesitate.
"Y/N. It's Joe. Zoe gave me your number."
"Right," I shift in my seat. "Did you need something?"
"Yeah," Joe says. "I don't mean to sound clingy or whatever but i just-I feel like we had something. Between us. And you left so quickly the next morning and I just want to make sure you're alright. That I didn't pressure you too much or anything?"
"Oh no nothing like that." I reply quickly. I thought it was endearing that Joe cared enough to check in even though weeks had gone by.
"So maybe I could ask if you want to go out sometime?"
"Oh," I pause, unsure where to step in order to avoid any explosions. "About that. I'm just a bit...busy? At the moment."
"I hope I'm not the type of guy you have to make excuses to." Joe's voice gains an edge. "I made sure to ask Zoe she said your team's basically done the work. I'm a big boy, Y/N. If you're not interested in me you can just say."
"I am interested in you!" I blurt and immediately regret it. A middle aged man turns to glance at me and I turn to the window. "It's just I don't think this is going to go anywhere. Nothing good is gonna come from us getting together."
"Where'd you get that from?" Joe asks, his words laced with annoyance. "You know what? It's fine. Forget it. I'll see you around Y/N."
Before I could say goodbye, he's hung up and I feel like crying. I didn't mean to hurt him like that. I flash back to my own parents, the sadness in my father's eyes and the bitterness in my mother's. Was I turning into them without even having my heart broken? But maybe, the new side in me says, maybe they're the ones that broke your heart.
That's how I find myself getting off at a different tube station and walking towards Joe's flat. When he opens the door, he's surprised to see me but widens the door to let me in.
We don't pick up from the other night. Not at first. First, Joe pours me a glass of wine and we talk. I open up for the first time, explaining that I'd grown comfortable with the loneliness, that I didn't believe in love after everything I'd witnessed. Just saying it all erases the comfortable silence I'd cushioned every relationship I'd ever had as a way to protect myself.
After I've exhausted myself with words and cried every tear within me, Joe cups my face and kisses both eyelids. He then holds me, telling me his own version-his promise to never hurt me.
"I promise," he says. "I'll help unbreak your heart. And you can bury me in the marshmellow cemetry if I ever do anything otherwise."
I laugh, which feels weird after the emotions of the day. He laughs with me and then pulls me up, both of us walking to his bedroom, lingering along the way to undress the other. Joe leaves promises all over me as we continue where we left off a couple weeks ago and snuggles me into his arms after. Joe was the only exception, and I was on my way to believing; in hope, in togetherness, in love. I pray I wouldn't wake up to have this just be a dream. But the next morning, when I open my eyes to a room that was getting more familiar, I turn to spot Joe watching me. If eyes were the window to the soul, he was giving me a glimpse of his and it looked pure and promising and full of a gentle love.
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poppyssupergirl · 7 years
Text
Kisses Felt Around The World
This is for @bridgetteirish ‘s International Kissing Day Challenge and you can read this on AO3 if you’d like!
The AO3 Challenge is also linked so you can read everyone else’s submissions! 
Cat’s in Hong Kong.
Of course, that’s only the furthest away anyone could be and Kara scoffs before picking the car off the turnpike railings and depositing it onto the cracked pavement. The family inside runs and she waves with a smile, her other hand twisting the phone so she can balance it between her cheek and shoulder.
The video cameras trailed on her will show both of her hands coming up just in time to catch the alien creature as it charges her. She doesn’t give an inch and she doesn’t drop her phone.
There’s one lucky camera woman with a cell phone picture that clearly catches Kara rolling her eyes and bickering with whoever she’s talking to.
The creature is eight times Supergirl’s size and it looks so, so small in her hands. She doesn’t even really have to hit it to calm it down enough for a swarm of black-clad agents to sweep across the scene.
Supergirl raises into the air and shoots a smile toward a non-descript agent in a helmet, she readjusts the phone in her hand and visibly scoffs again.
The woman holding the phone gets seventeen interviews before the video even has time to go viral.
She stops into the DEO first, as is policy.
Kara hangs up as she touches down, she’ll have to get to Cat later. She’s got a bet to win.
Vasquez looks up as she enters headquarters and opens her mouth just for Kara to cut her off.
“Susan, can I kiss you?”
Winn tips his Twizzlers onto the floor and the whole operation goes silent. Even J’onn looks up with a slight frown.
Kara watches as Susan’s face moves from shock to confusion to shock again and then back to confusion. “Excuse me, ma’am?”
“May I kiss you?” Kara asks again, a tad bit slower. She’s got very little time but she’s not going to infringe on anyone’s rights. Or hurt anyone. She’s just competitive, okay?
J’onn can hear Vasquez’s mind screeching into overdrive and his stifled laughter ends up barely louder than the oppressive silence engulfing the DEO.
Susan nods jerkily and Kara flashes a smile that could bend steel to her will even more easily than her own fingers could. And Supergirl’s fingers can do quite a bit.
Susan will later tell the story like so:
Kara stepped forward, radiating the happiness that had drawn Susan to her in the first place. A quiet confidence that settled into every nook and cranny of Susan’s body.
Yes, in that moment, she wanted to be held in Supergirl’s strong arms.
She was softer than a cloud and solid enough to stop boulders. She was a dream wrapped up in a reality that Susan still couldn’t believe she was a part of.
Her lips were sweeter than honey and Susan was lifted right out of her chair and pressed against a body she’d craved. The kiss was gentle and rough and had just enough tongue to send a shiver through her body.
If Susan were to die, right then and there, her life would have been complete.
(At this point in the story Winn is already tossing peanuts to make it end. He was there, the kiss wasn’t that great.)
Kara releases Susan with another smile to light up a galaxy and skips over to Winn.
(This is the point in the story where Winn takes over)
She presses a sweet kiss to his cheek and picks up his Twizzlers. She even snags a kiss to the top of her head from J’onn.
Susan is still smiling at her desk as Kara swipes into her phone and steps off the balcony.
Unsurprisingly, Lucy Lane is the easiest to get an agreement from. She doesn't really need a reason, she agrees as soon as Kara gets the question out of her mouth.
It’s almost concerning really. Almost.
So Kara touches down, a rooftop restaurant in Metropolis, her cape snapping in the breeze. Cameras flicker around her and Lucy is already walking toward her. Kara can’t help the smile already aching across her cheeks.
The kiss hits every tabloid in about 33 seconds.
It’s hot and full of tongue and Lucy doesn’t waste her chances. She’s never copped a feel on a Superhero, but oh boy, does she ever make up for that now.
Her fingers wrap around Kara’s ass and Kara gasps into the kiss. She wraps her arms around Lucy, just a little tighter, and dips Lucy backward.
There are hoots and hollers around them but Kara only has ears for the way Lucy’s heartbeat crescendos through their kiss.
The real issue is getting Lucy Lane to let go. Like Joan of Arc, she has a mission in mind and it will take the stake and 1400 degree flames to stop her. She buries her fingers in Kara’s hair and wraps a leg around her waist.
She probably can’t get arrested, but Lucy’s always liked testing her boundaries.
Kara pulls back before Lucy can find the zip on her suit and she’s panting. A woman capable of breaking the sound barrier without breaking a sweat and Lucy has her gasping for breath.
The more capable Lane indeed.
Lucy advances as Kara steps back until Lucy’s grinning at the edge of the rooftop. She could jump and Kara would catch her, but she doesn’t need underhanded tricks now.
Now Kara knows what she’s missing and Lucy can depend on that.
Kara’s a vibrant red and she thanks Lucy again before rocketing off, into the sunlight. Lucy doesn’t bat an eye at the cameras flashing around her. She’s walking on the corpses of her political rivals, nothing will beat this.
So she sits back down at her table, Clark Kent gaping across from her, and finishes her lunch.
James is in his studio. His camera is lovingly tucked under his arm and he smiles when Kara walks in. Eve Teschmacher stands beside him and marks down the time.
Kara leans in and James leans down and it’s a sweet kiss. There’s no more bitterness and they both feel safe in each other’s arms. Kara sniffles just the slightest bit and James laughs before shooing her out.
Kara’s boots leave CatCo property and Eve doodles on her paper before asking, “Do you still love her?”
James just smiles at his photos and rearranges a layout. The sun falls across his face, it’s a beautiful day in National City. “Everyone loves Kara.”
There’s a Lotreng tearing holes in the bar when Kara gets there. M’gann looks more than a little frazzled and Kara laughs before leaping into the fray.
There’s an internet domain that you can find only if you already have access to it. On that domain is Rotinyl herbal remedies, which businesses are pro-alien, and how to tame a Slinara if you have two bgnorts and a clorsic on hand.
Today, that domain has a video of Supergirl laughing while taking … punches… from a Lotreng in full rage. She doesn’t seem to have a problem holding it down until the rage passes. Fland, the Lotreng, apologizes for the damage and blushes all the way up to his glondexs in embarrassment.
M’gann, the bartender, doesn’t even flinch when Supergirl, an alien superhero, points to her cheek with a smile. She just leans in with a long-suffering sigh and kisses, a human display of affection, the superhero on the cheek.
Supergirl flashes them all another smile and there’s blur before the tables are righted and all the broken furniture is piled in one corner. M’gann, the bartender, rolls her eyes before leaning in and kissing Supergirl’s other cheek.
(this may be the French form of greeting, but no one can confirm that)
There’s another flash of pearly whites, no it’s not a display of aggression on this planet, and Supergirl is off into the fading afternoon.
Lena Luthor doesn’t like public displays of affection. Lena Luthor really likes Kara Danvers.
When an immovable object meets an unstoppable force… something’s gotta give.
Needless to say, seven board members are accosted with flowers and Supergirl sweeps into Lena’s meeting. Lena already knows what’s going to happen. She knows that Jess will never let her live it down.
She knows that the kiss, her wrapped up in Kara’s arms, surrounded by the cape and a golden cascade of hair, will only ever circulate between their small group of friends. So when the board members get over their shock and shout at Lena, well…
Lena’s still looking out the window, two fingers tracing her lips, and a smile quirking across her cheeks. Her eyes are more alight than Jess has seen them since Kara’s last visit and Jess already has the picture sent to their whole group chat.
There are no cutting looks in this board meeting, only a calm and slightly smiling Lena Luthor. It bothers the board members much more than any cold stare.
Kara pushes herself well over Mach eight and all she can hear is the erratic thump of air molecules hitting her ear drums. She’s not surprised when she sees Cat standing in Times Square, honestly, where else would she be?
There’s a CatCo building going in just up the street so it only makes sense.
The cameraman is Cat’s favorite and Supergirl gives him a wave. He looks tired, jet lag is a bitch, but he waves and points to where Cat is standing.
“Good evening, Hong Kong, National City, as you may know, today is International Kissing Day. I am joined by none other than National City’s hero, Supergirl.” Cat flashes her a dazzling smile and Kara bites back a laugh.
Cat is never one to be outdone and she gives Lucy a run for her money. Not quite in handsy-ness, but in time for sure.
The kiss tops a minute and a half before the gathered crowd starts to lose interest. Not surprising for Cat and she hears, even over the rushing of her own blood, the slight dip in the raucousness of the crowd and pulls back with a smirk.
Kara dutifully smiles at the camera and gives Cat a final hug, there’s a whispered message but the mic definitely doesn’t catch that, and Cat’s waving goodbye as Kara stumbles into the air.
Lucy calls her later to ask her what she’d said. Cat, like any good, generous mentor, tells Lucy.
Lucy never, ever repeats it. Not even in her own mind.
Kara flutters through Alex’s apartment window and skips over to where she’s laying across her couch, head in Maggie’s lap.
“Kiss” She demands, pointing at her cheek and Alex rolls her eyes at Maggie’s protests and obeys. Kara makes sure to drag her hair over Alex’s lips and Alex sputters and gags in jest, batting Kara away.
Maggie frowns at Kara and glances at her phone, “That’s still only nine! I explicitly said, ten kisses and you win. Nine doesn’t count.”
Kara sheds her cape and looks at the clock, she’s got six more minutes, she’s done pretty well so far. “You said, and I quote, “Kiss or be kissed by ten people who love you.” Right?”
Maggie nods and her eyes narrow as Kara closes in on her. She realizes what’s happening far, far too late. “No! No, I don’t count!!!”
Alex laughs and tucks away from their tussle. Her eyes crinkle in delight as Maggie is swamped with kisses all over her hair and cheeks, Kara’s laughter ringing out in her apartment.
“You love me don’t you?” Kara grins down at a thoroughly defeated Maggie Sawyer and Maggie just groans against the couch.
“Seems like ten to me.” Alex doesn’t mind throwing Maggie under the bus of Kara’s love, she’s had to deal with it for thirteen years after all. “Sounds like we’re watching every Disney film in order this weekend.”
Maggie’s groans fill the apartment and the Danvers sisters only laugh all the louder.
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biluata · 7 years
Text
Our Hearts Run on Gasoline - Quakerider One-shot
Words: 4,356
Request #2: Robbie and Daisy meet at an illegal street race
No Powers AU Meet-Cute with Dramatic Action and Sweet Moments
Read on Ao3: Here
Racing was in Robbie's blood. His father knew it from the day Robbie was born, just like his father before him. All the Reyes men were racers, and Robbie was no exception.
As the night was reaching eleven o'clock, Robbie rolled up in his custom '69 Charger at the crowded parking lot of an abandoned furniture store in East Los Angeles. Reggaeton blasted through the warm, night air and the beats hummed through his chest. Several tricked-out cars painted in obnoxiously loud colors filled the space and were proudly shown off by their owners to the flocks of people gathered around. While some were just there to dazzle with their sweet sound systems and fancy LED light shows, there were a few mean-looking vehicles who came to play.
Robbie grinned as he reached and gently patted the dash of his beloved Charger, Lucy. She might be a classic beauty, but she could still give all the other guys a run for their money. He and his Uncle Eli had made sure of that.
Robbie pulled up into an empty spot where several of his friends had already gathered around to laugh, chat and drink the night away.
"There he is!" Juan announced as he draped one arm over Robbie's open driver window while the other hand held his beer high in the air. "The man! The myth! The legend! The Ghost Rider!"
Cheers erupted from his friends as they raised their beers then chugged them down. Robbie chuckled as he parked his car and got out. "You know that's just a stupid nickname," he said, pushing Juan and his gaudy, bright orange-and-black bowling shirt aside.
Juan laughed then held his beer bottle close to his mouth like a microphone. Robbie rolled his eyes. Not this shit again.
"They say he sold his soul to the Devil in order to get his sweet ride," Juan continued in a deep voice reminiscent of an old radio announcer. "You never see him coming until you already lost. He is. . ."
"The Ghost Rider!" Ricky, Mateo and Felipe hollered by the trunk of his car. They all immediately bawled into hysterical laughter, holding on to each other to keep themselves from falling over.
Robbie shook his head with grin. They teased, but it was all in good fun. These were his people after all, his friends. Ever since Uncle Eli got sent to South Ridge Penitentiary four years ago for attempted manslaughter, they had been there for him like no other. Besides Gabe, these guys were his family.
"Honestly, you guys, that's enough," Lisa chided with a roll of her eyes, pushing the three aside and walking up to him and Juan. Robbie smiled, but quickly averted his eyes. She was wearing an outfit that was highly appropriate for the summer heat, but also highly inappropriate for public eyes. Between her white crop top and her pale jean short shorts, she was showing enough skin to make a nun collapse on the spot.
She stopped only a few feet in front of him, but his nose was still overpowered by the scent of her floral perfume. "H-hey, Robbie," she said in a high-pitched tone. Lisa leaned against his car, twirling one of her long brown curls and batting her dark lashes at him.
"Uh, hey, Lisa," he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. To say she had a crush on him was obvious. Robbie wasn't a complete idiot. And Lisa was a sweet girl, very pretty, too. The only problem was she was Juan's cousin, and if Juan was like a brother to him, Lisa was like a little sister.
He had tried dropping hints over the years that he was not interested, but to no avail. She still kept showing up to the races, to his work, and even to his home with a sweet smile, googly eyes, and sometimes a delicious baked good. He liked her. She was a good friend, but that's all she would ever be. At this point, Robbie could only pray she'd meet a guy someday who would make her forget all about him.
"You know, I'm here, too, cuz," Juan scoffed from beside him.
Lisa shot him a scowl before turning her big hazel eyes back to Robbie and flipping on her charming smile. "So, how are things? Did Gabe finally decide to come this time?" She asked, glancing around.
A stabbing pain pierced his heart and he bowed his head a little. Gabe never approved of Robbie's street-racing hobby. Besides the fact it was illegal, it could also be highly dangerous. One bad blowout and that could be the end for any driver. He's seen it before, has even gotten close to crashing himself a few times, but ultimately Robbie decided that the rewards were better than the risks.
Robbie had been trying for years to get Gabe to come with him to the races, to maybe see why he enjoyed it so much, but to no avail. It turned out tonight wasn't going to be any different.
He sighed. "Nah, he said he had homework to do."
"On a Friday night, are you serious?" Juan asked.
"Oh, hush," Lisa said, smacking her cousin's arm. She then gave Robbie an empathetic smile and placed a tender hand on his shoulder. "That's too bad, but, hey, at least he's such a good student."
Robbie smiled. That was true. Gabe was one of the smartest kids in his school, and he really couldn't stay made at him for that. He was going to go places, which is more than he could say for other kids in this city.
"What your brother is, Reyes, is a nerd!"
Robbie groaned as his shoulders sagged. Ramirez, he thought bitterly.
Manolo Ramirez strolled up to Robbie's car looking like a Latino Elvis Presley with his black hair gelled up into a tall pompadour and his floral shirt only half-buttoned up. He wore a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses despite it being night and had two gorgeous women hanging onto him, one under each arm. They were so similar, they had to be twin sisters who seemed to have just walked out of the cover of a fashion magazine.
Robbie sighed. Manolo was a decent racer, could even give Robbie a run for his money at times, but he always had to appear like the biggest fake and asshole in the world.
"Hey, Manny," Robbie said, forcing a smile on his face. He brushed off Lisa's hand as he stepped closer to his rival.
"Tonight is the night, Reyes," Manny stated with a flash of his shiny, whitened teeth. "You're going down!"
"Funny, Manolo!" Juan called from behind him. "That's what I was telling your sister last night!"
An explosion of hooting laughter and hollering erupted within a ten-foot radius around Juan. His friends jumped around the small space, howling and ramming into each other as if they lost their damn minds. Robbie stifled the laugh that bubbled through his chest with a grin instead.
Manny's face was so red, his head could have ignited into flames any moment. He ripped his sunglasses off, eyes like poisoned daggers.
"Hey, Reyes," Manny said with a scowl that matched the acidic contempt in his voice. "You better watch your friend's mouth before either of you gets a fist in it."
A hushed "ooh" fell across the crowded group as their eyes glanced between Manny and him. Robbie let out a soft chuckle. "Manny, it's just good fun," he explained. Everyone knew Juan talked a lout of his ass. Robbie often took everything his friend said with a grain of salt. "Relax."
Manny sneered as he slipped his shades back on. "Whatever, man, I'll see you on the streets!"
Robbie shook his head as Manny walked off with the twins in tow. Every conversation with that guy was like dancing on broken glass.
"Eh, forget about him, Robbie," Juan said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "You know, for a guy with a lot of beautiful women around him, he hardly seems to get laid, huh?"
Robbie chuckled. "You may be right about that."
"You two are the worse," Lisa announced as she wedged herself in between them.
Suddenly, a cacophony of cheers, hoots and whistles rang through the night. Robbie straightened up, eyebrows scrunched together. What in the world? His eyes scanned the scene, widening when they found what everyone was making noise about.
A sleek cherry-red '62 Corvette slowly rolled onto the lot, sparkling magnificently even in the dim streetlights. Robbie bit his lower lip. Lucy may be his baby, but even he could recognize what a good-looking car this little beauty was. It was gorgeous from its smooth curves to its shimmering chrome adornments. His hand twitched. The mechanic in him was already itching to get a look under the hood and see how it ticked.
The crowd of watchers slowly backed up as the newcomer made their way through the lot and parked only a few spots away from where Robbie and his friends were.
"Who do you think it is?" Juan whispered. "You think it could be Lucas?"
Robbie shook his head. "Nah, Lucas is too much of a scrub to have a ride as fly as that. Maybe, it's another hotshot from Miami?" Those guys always rolled into town in the summer like they were such a big deal, but Robbie would knock them down a peg or two.
The driver's door popped open and a woman with short dark hair dressed in all black stepped out. Robbie raised his brows. Okay, he was not expecting that.
She slammed the door to the Corvette shut then turned, scanning the lot. Electricity danced across his skin as her heavy-shadowed eyes seemed to land on him. Was she looking at him? She had to be, because soon she was strutting his way.
Despite her small demeanor, the woman walked with her shoulders back and her head high. With each hard steeped of her heeled boots, it was like the ground shook beneath her. She oozed a confidence and swagger that warned anybody and everybody she was not one to be messed with. His heart rate began to pick up speed and he'd be lying if he said he didn't find her tough-girl act to be a little sexy as hell.
She stopped in front of Robbie and his group of friends, shoving her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket and jutting her hip to the side as if she didn't have a care in the world. "Are these where the races are at?" She asked, taking her time to eye every single one of them. His heart jumped as her dark eyes settled on him, slowly looking him up and down.
"Um, yeah," Robbie answered, cringing as his voice cracked a little.
The woman nodded as her hands shuffled around in her pockets. When she pulled them back out, in each hand was a thick wad of twenty-dollar bills. "I want to join."
"In that?" Juan asked, nodding to her Corvette as everyone laughed.
Robbie smirked. Juan was right. She had a pretty sweet ride, but his Charger could easily smoke her.
"Don't worry," she said with a grin, her eyes flicking from Juan to him. "Lola has a few tricks up her sleeve."
He raised his brow. This could be interesting. "Okay, you see Big Bass over there by the pimped-out Scion XB?" Robbie gestured over to where the large Latino man, both tall and wide, in a blue sweat suit was chilling with a few scantily-clad women and a police monitor. "He runs these races. You should talk to him."
She nodded her head. "Cool, thanks." Her eyes roved over him one last time before she spun around and walked off.
"Tourists," Lisa spat quietly from beside him that garnered a few chuckles from his friends.
"Aw, come on, cuz," Juan cooed, draping an arm over her. "You're just jealous, because she kept giving Roberto the eyes."
Robbie's ears began to burn as Lisa's face turned a bright red, as well. "Wh-what? No!" She exclaimed hastily, shoving Juan so hard he nearly fell on his ass.
"Yeah," Robbie choked out, rubbing the back of his neck. "She was probably just trying to figure me out, you know, examine the competition."
"Right," Lisa said, nodding her head and smiling sweetly at him. His stomach churned. Crap. He didn't want to give Lisa the wrong idea, but he was also pretty sure that woman (no matter how hot she was) was not checking him out.
He scratched his chin. Although, if she was . . .
"Hey, hey, Robbie!" Big Bass called, shuffling his large figure over. "Homicide in Monterey and the cops are moving in. Now's the time, you in?"
Robbie's gut clenched as he nodded his head. It was a damn shame they could only race at the cost of somebody's life, but that's just how their world had to work. Robbie dug into the pockets of his jeans and pulled out several hundred dollar bills which Big Bass happily accepted.
"Cool, man, I'll see you at the start." Big Bass said then hastily headed off.
This was it. His time to shine.
"You got this, Robbie!" Lisa cheered, giving him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"Yeah, I got a lot of money riding on you, man!" Juan teased with a pat on his back. "So, don't fuck this up!"
Robbie laughed as he brushed Juan aside and opened the door to his Charger. "I don't plant to," he stated as he got in and slammed the door shut.
"Yeah, that's my boy!" Juan hollered.
The crowds of people quickly rushed to get out of the way as Robbie and the others drover their cars to the hastily thrown together starting line.
Manny was already there in his tricked out '08 Chevy Cobalt SS. Robbie chuckled. The damn thing looked like it just rolled off the set of a "Fast and Furious" movie with its silver paint job and shimmery purple flames on the side. Yep, it was a very Manolo-style car, alright.
Robbie sidled up his Charger alongside him. "Nice flames," he teased. "Think they might help?"
Manny sneered at him. "I hope you got a good look at my ass, Reyes, because that's all you're going to be seeing." He lowered his sunglasses down, pointing two V-sign fingers at his eyes then then over towards him.
Robbie snorted as he shook his head then noticed as the red Corvette pulled up on his right between him and Little Emilio's Honda Civic. So, he was going to be racing her after all. Robbie sat there admiring the fierceness on the newcomer's face as her hands tapped hastily on something in her dash. Her fingers moved with such a graceful dexterity, it was more like she was playing a piano than a car. He grinned. Yeah, this could prove to be a very interesting race.
He focused back up front as Big Bass came to stand out in front of the four cars. "Alright, alright, you guys know the rules, one lap around, first one back here is the winner, and if I--"
Robbie tuned him out. After nearly four years doing this, he knew the man's words by heart.
"We got this, Lucy," he whispered to his car as he did before every race. She had rarely failed him before, tonight wasn't going to be the exception despite what Manny jeered. Robbie gave Lucy's dash a gentle pat as Big Bass finished his speech and stepped off to one of the sides where the crowd of people from the parking lot gathered. His friends stood off to his left, clapping and giving him thumbs-up.
"Ready, racers?" Big Bass hollered.
Robbie revved Lucy's engine, which let out a guttural roar and flared the flaps on her blower. They were ready.
As Big Bass raised his arm to the sky, it was as if the world fell silent. Robbie couldn't even breathe as he waited, his stomach a churning mess and his foot twitching over the pedal.
Everything happened in slow motion and at the speed light at the same time. Big Bass' hand fell and Robbie took off faster than a bat out of hell.
He sunk back into his leather seat, hands tight on the wheel, as Lucy surged forward. His heart sputtered into overdrive, coursing energy through his veins. Everything was a blur around him with the only fixed point in his universe being the open road ahead and the needle climbing on his speedometer.
The biggest smile grew on Robbie's face as butterflies swarmed his chest. He swore there was no better feeling in the world than going fast in a car. With the windows down and the air rushing across his face, he was flying. It was magical, the indescribable connection between man and machine that made his whole body tingle. Whenever Robbie got in the driver seat, it was as if his heart and Lucy's engine became one.
Robbie shook himself from his euphoric stupor as the first turn came up ahead. He checked his rearview mirror to see he had gotten a good head start with Manny trailing at least a car behind and the other two lagging just behind him. Shifting gears, Robbie easily made the turn and maintained his lead.
They raced through the near empty streets of East L.A. like demons in the night, lacing the air with the acrid smell of burning rubber and exhaust. Although Manny would catch up with him at the turns, Robbie would still easily pull ahead. He laughed. Manny was probably fuming by now underneath those ridiculous shades.
The racers made one last turn and they were down to the final stretch. Robbie revved Lucy's engine and she roared like a black jaguar. This was it. There was no stopping them now.
He glanced at the rearview mirror and his eyes widened. While Manny was still behind him, Ms. Corvette was rapidly catching up to them. Fire and smoke spewed out of the back of her car, sending her forward at breakneck speeds. Robbie's jaw dropped. Were those rockets?! God, she hadn't been kidding when she said that her car had a few tricks.
Manny seemed to finally notice her sudden approach as his eyes bugged out to the size of saucer plates before narrowing into snake-like slits. "Not today, bitch!" He spat over the rushing wind.
As the newcomer tried to pass Manny by, he swerved his car into her. The harsh sound of smashing metal filled the night briefly followed by the shrill screaming of tires. Robbie's stomach dropped and his fingers went cold as the Corvette quickly spiraled out of control. Her brakes screeched as her car skidded into the brick exterior of a store, grinding in a spray of sparks to a halt.
Robbie couldn't breathe. His body was numbed. Was she okay? How could she be after a crash like that?
He glanced forward where victory only lay a few yards ahead then back to the steaming Corvette. His heart panged tight in his chest as he slammed on his brakes and peeled his car off to side of the road.
Robbie gritted his teeth as Manny passed him by with resounding hollers and whoops followed by Little Emilio. Once they were gone, he peeled Lucy around and sped back to the Corvette. Screeching to a standstill a few feet away from the wreck, Robbie wriggled out of his seatbelt and threw open the door. He hopped out, only stopping for a moment to slam his door shut before rushing over.
The air stunk heavy of burnt rubber and leaking fuel. His gut heaved, but he managed to make sure his dinner didn't make a second appearance. Glass littered the ground along with a few torn pieces of metal. Luckily, the car wasn't on fire, but steam billowed out of the front like an active volcano. His heart was beating faster than a jackhammer as he slowed down near the driver's side. Robbie held his breath and prayed that he wasn't about to find a dead body.
The woman lay in the driver's seat with a deflated bag on her lap and several bits of shattered glass in her hair. She was pale, her eyes half-closed and a line of blood trickling down her forehead. A sweeping coolness ran through his body when he saw the rapid rising and falling of her chest, and he damn near collapsed onto the ground. She was alive, a little battered and bruised with a few cuts on her face, but alive.
"Hey, hey, stay with me, you're okay," he said, gingerly resting a hand on her shoulder.
The woman jolted awake as if his was lightning. She gasped for air, her wide eyes searching around until they landed on him. His heart fluttered wildly in his chest. Her chocolate brown eyes, even if they were reminiscent of a deer in a headlight, were gorgeous. He hadn't been able to notice it before, but now, with their faces only a foot apart, he could truly appreciate how mesmerizing they were. They even had little flecks of gold that shimmered like stars.
"Wh-what?" She coughed out.
Robbie blinked his eyes. Right. There were important things to worry about right now. He took in a deep breath. "You were just in an accident," he explained in his gentlest tone. "But, it's okay. You're okay."
She nodded her head, but her eyes still seemed dazed. Shakily, she undid her seatbelt and Robbie backed up as she opened the driver's door.
"Hey, hey, take it easy," Robbie said, offering a hand as she slowly staggered out of her car. The woman swatted it aside with her left hand, but immediately doubled over, crying out in pain. His body tensed. "Hey, let me take a look?"
She watched him warily, considering him like a wild animal and wondering if he would bite. She said nothing as she held out her left arm. Robbie slowly unzipped the sleeve of her jacket and smoothed it back. He then held her arm in one of his hands while the other softly tapped up her arm. When his fingers touched halfway to her elbow, she flinched, sucking air sharply through gritted teeth.
Robbie nodded. "Your arm's fractured, but not completely broken. I could take you to the hospital."
"No!"
His shoulders jumped at the harshness of her voice. The woman roughly brushed him off with her good arm, but she still winced at the pain the movement caused her injury. "No hospitals. I-I can't."
He held his arms up, showing her his palms. There was a dark fear in her eyes like an animal caught in a corner. His head tilted a little. Was it just something against hospitals, or was she afraid she could be arrested if she turned up at one? Either way, she probably wasn't going to tell him. "Okay," he agreed. "No hospitals."
She nodded, her body slowly relaxing once more.
"But you really need to get that checked out," he said, stepping closer.
She stepped back. "I'll be fine." She looked away from him and her eyes widened. "But Lola won't."
Robbie followed her gaze and immediately cringed. The once beautiful Corvette was now in a terribly dismal state. The windshield was gone with only a few shards of glass hanging around the frame. The front end was concaved in where it hit a street sign and the hood now stood up like a pitched tent. The right side rested against the wall, but if the missing side mirror was any sign, Robbie figured it wasn't looking too pretty, either. At least, the left side was only dented in slightly from when Manny bumped into her, and it seemed like the back end was fine, as well. All in all, it could have been worse.
"Shit!" She muttered under her breath, running a hand through her short, dark locks. "Coulson is going to kill me."
Robbie cocked his head to the side. Coulson? Who was Coulson? Her boyfriend? Her really handsome auto-enthusiast boyfriend? He sighed as he shook his head. What was he doing? Now, again, was not the time for such thoughts.
Tears brimmed in her eyes that threatened to spill over any second, but she bit her bottom lip and took in a deep, shaky breath to force them back. He raised his brow. God, she really was tough.
"Hey, it'll be okay." Robbie walked up to her as she examined the front end of her car and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I'm a mechanic and I've been able to fix up cars in much worse states than this."
"Wait, really?" Her narrow eyes flicked between his face and his hand, but she didn't make any moves to oppose. "You can fix her?"
He nodded. Robbie still remembered when his uncle rolled Lucy into Canelo's one night. Poor thing was barely a car at all, and now it was the baddest ride in all of East L.A. If he could do that with almost nothing, he was certain he could fix her Corvette.
"Yeah. Well, it might be a little heard to get some parts, depending on what we are working with, but I could probably get it done in a few weeks, one month tops."
The woman tilted her head as she stared at him like he was one of the strangest puzzles she's ever seen. The kind of puzzle where you have no idea how it got put together but the end product was undeniably amazing. Robbie grinned. It was great to see her being in his place for a change.
"Thanks," she murmured.
He smiled as he removed his hand from her shoulder and held it out. "I'm Robbie. Robbie Reyes."
She slowly accepted his hand, sharing a small, dazzling smile back that made the stars pale in comparison. "Daisy."
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paarraanoid · 7 years
Text
“You’re Too Young” -- Michael Del Zotto Imagine (Part 5)
A/N: Cash me ousside, how bow dah.
(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 6)
“God dammit, Michael. Just say something.” I angrily huffed. “I’m growing tired of your antics. Grow up and have a conversation like an adult, for once.” Michael hit the brakes of the car, almost causing a pile-up behind us.
“Are you serious, Zoe?”
“Yes, absolutely. And maybe if you didn’t always insist on having me travel everywhere with you, we would be able to have a real conversation somewhere other than your car! Now drive because you’re going to cause an accident.” I grabbed my oh-shit handle as Michael pulled angrily into a nearby parking lot.
We were at a small restaurant that looked to be very fancy and expensive. A place you most definitely wouldn’t catch me at. We pulled into a parking spot, and a few other cars pulled in behind us. They were team members arriving to join the so-called fun. Two heads popped up next to my window and knocked excitedly. I smiled at Gina and Shayne as I rolled the window down.
“Hey, you two! You comin’ in?” Gina said happily, with Shayne tightly by her side.
I laughed lightly, trying to lighten the mood and to also give myself a few seconds to think of an excuse. “Yeah, we’ll be right in. I seem to have lost my phone so we’re trying to retrace my steps and decide whether I left it at the arena or it slid into the abyss in his car.” My response caused Shayne to laugh, telling me that that is absolutely something I would do. “I’m not really in the mood to lose a phone today. We’ll be there in a few.”
Gina gave me a hard stare, knowing exactly what was going to happen. “Sure. See you guys soon.” The two of them waved to us as I rolled the window back up and unbuckled my seatbelt.
“You’re good when you’re put on the spot.”
“Are you finally ready to be an adult?”
“Would you stop treating me like I’m a child?”
“Now you know how you’ve been treating me for the past what, two and a half years?”
He slammed the steering wheel out of frustration. “What do you expect me to say!”
“Tell me how you feel, Michael, about me. Tell me what your thoughts are on the idea of us. You need to use your words, you need to communicate with me.” He licked his lips in frustration, thinking intently. When he didn’t say anything, I decided to help him out. “Okay, I guess I’ll start and give you an example. If the other night in your apartment wasn’t obvious enough, then here it is. I like you, Michael, a lot. I’ve felt something for you almost since the day my family moved to Canada. That’s a long time. But you know what, I always thought that what I felt was never reciprocated, because you always acted like a brother. You were always so adamant on being like a brother. I thought that nothing could ever be possible between us. But, I was wrong. And now here we are, I’m spilling my guts, trying to get you to talk, because I know that you feel something too. But you need to tell me how you feel, otherwise I’m going home.”
“You’re not going.” He scoffed, trying to call my bluff. I pulled up my contacts and hit Macy’s name as I opened the door and placed one foot on the ground. Michael quickly pulled me back into the car, ripping the phone from my hands and ending the call.
“I wasn’t kidding, Michael.”
He looked at me and breathed in and out, processing his thoughts…then it suddenly all came out like word vomit. “Alright, fine. I’ve had a thing for you ever since I taught you how to make whiskey sours. That was the night I fell head-over-heels for you. You got me hook, line, and sinker that night.” He caught his breath. “Zoe, I like you a lot. Like, a lot, a lot. It scares me how much influence you have on me.”
An annoyed breath escaped from my chest. “Dear God, fucking finally!” I let out boisterously. “Now we can go eat! I’m starving.” I slid out of the car with grace and bounced onto the sidewalk. Michael’s door opened and I immediately began spitting off foods to eat tonight. “Ooh, I’m really in the mood for some shrimp, and some pasta. But I could also go for some crab cakes, so I hope they have—”  Michael chimed into my thoughts. He was standing with his door open and his arms out wide. “…Did you say something.” Did he say something?
“Zoey. That’s it? All is fine and dandy?”
I nodded my head back and forth in contemplation. “Uh, yeah.”
Michael’s hands gripped his face and I could see his smile from beneath them. “I don’t understand you.”
“Literally, all I wanted from you was to tell me that you liked me, and that I’m not like a damn sister to you. Was it really that hard?”
“Alright, don’t push your limits.”
I threw my arms out and smiled. “So, do you wanna kiss now or later?”
“What! Zoey—”
“Okay, that’s fine. I’m hungry anyway.” I turned on my heel and walked in the direction of the entrance.
“Wait, Zoey! That’s not fair! Zoey!” I heard his car door close and then the beep of the horn. His shoes scuffled along the sidewalk as he jogged toward me.
“Ya’ snooze you lose, mister!” I twisted around to see where Michael was when I was blindsided. Before I knew it, his hands were wrapped around my waist pulling me close to his body, and his lips were on mine. My heart dropped to what felt like the pit of my stomach and then exploded into a million butterflies. His lips were eager, hungry, soft…
My hands found their place on the sides of his neck, pulling him closer to me, if that was even possible. I could feel Michael’s heart beating rapidly against my chest, but it could have been mine. Either way, I losing my senses the longer our lips kept contact. I smiled into him when I heard loud banging and muffled hoots and hollers. We broke apart to see the team inside the restaurant pounding on the windows. “Oh my god,” I muffled into my hands that covered my beet-red face. Michael laughed at the situation, removing my hands and kissing my cheek.
“Let’s go get something to eat and let someone else provide the entertainment for the night.” Michael pushed me forward and I caught Macy, Ally, and especially Alex, out of the corner of my eye freaking out. Macy couldn’t stop smiling, Ally was dancing and Alex looked extremely confused.
Walking inside found Michael and I greeted to many “cheers” and “congratulations” and rounds of applause. “Alright, alright, settle down,” Michael told his teammates as we walked to the booth that was just big enough to hold a majority of the team. The booth forced close relations to everyone, which I was fine with. Macy kicked Ally and Alex out of the booth so that Michael and I could slide in. Michael scooted in effortlessly first, and then, with his hand on my back, guided me into the spot next to him. Despite just having a game, he smelled of something…rich: dark woods, warm spices, and amber. Macy followed suit and Mark Streit followed her. The second I got settled Macy redirected her attention to Streit, who was just as interested in the conversation as she was. They laughed at something funny and Streit slipped an arm around the back of Macy while she dropped her hand on his thigh. Smooth.  Macy and Streit…now that was a sight. A slight giggle left my mouth as my thoughts wandered.
“What’s so funny?” Michael caught my attention.
“Nothing.” I smiled at him. He smiled back. “You know, I’m glad that you invited me to come out tonight.”
“I’m glad that you said yes,” he stated without hesitation. He pulled me in close and placed a kiss on my forehead. “I glad that you’re here,” he whispered.
Gina sat across the table from me and quickly caught my attention, giving me the “I told you so,” look and raising her eyebrow. She leaned forward and quickly began chatting my ear off, catching me up on all that had happened while I was occupied with school. Gina helped keep the atmosphere relaxed, but it also helped that Michael and I were finally on good terms. My terms. Dinner went smooth and before I knew it, groups started to head out. There were about twelve of us remaining and someone brought up the idea of going to a club. The guys didn’t have practice tomorrow and Gina sure as hell wanted more time to catch up with me. I turned to my friends to get their input. Alex and Ally opted to head home early, both of them having their parents in town and a large Sunday brunch on the menu. Macy said she was totally up for staying out as long as I felt decent, to which I agreed. The evening was going great so why not keep it going?
Michael and I hit the bar as soon as we got to the club, practically ditching the rest of our crew. I winked at Macy and then at Gina, both of them laughing at my antics. Michael ordered us both a round of tequila shots. Three rounds later I could think of so many ways to improve licking salt and sucking limes. But that was for another night.
We chatted over whiskey sours before hitting the dance floor. Michael wasn’t one to normally dance, but then again neither was I. The alcohol was coursing through our systems and found us acting a little risky on the dance floor. His free hand found my hip and pulled my back against his chest. I pushed my hips into his groin, which cause him to send a low groan into my ear. I peeked a glance at him while biting my lip, acting as innocent as I could.
His lips found the side of my neck and sucked on my sweet spot right below my ear. A soft moan escaped my lips, and he took that as an invitation to slid his hand from my hip down to the front of thigh, where it dipped to the inside of my leg. I gasped and grabbed his hand off of my thigh, spinning to come face to face with him. Although I was slightly past being buzzed, my cheeks heated up at the thought of anyone watching us. He wasn’t being very discreet.
“You’re going to get us both in trouble,” I whispered into his ear as I trailed my fingers down the back of his neck.
“I certainly wouldn’t mind getting into some trouble with you tonight.” I matched his gaze and brought him in for a kiss. I pressed deep into his lips and he reciprocated. My heart thumped and my stomach dropped, exactly like earlier. I pulled away, but not before biting his lip and giving it a tug. A painful “fuck” escaped his lips. I pulled him from the dance floor to a table, where I kindly asked him to get me another drink. I kept my gaze focused on his body as I watched him walk to the bar, gaining the attention of the bartender. My eyes examined every inch of his body, placing it into deep into my memory.
“Zoey Palmer!” Hearing my name shook me from my daze. I followed the sound until I saw a familiar face walking toward me. It was…Joe! From my dance class. I gave him a hug as we chatted for a few seconds. As quickly as he showed up, he was gone, and then a loud thud redirected my attention. Michael slammed my glass down on the table. His face of lust now masked by anger.
“Don’t start.” I scolded him.
“Who was that.”
“It doesn’t matter, Michael.”
“Yes, it does. Who was it.”
“Are you really going to do this. Right here? Right now?”
“Absolutely.”
“Michael, you’re drunk, and that’s why you’re getting upset. Please tell me you’re not always going to be this way when you’re drunk.”
“He was hitting on you, and you were enjoying it.”
“Oh my god, no, Michael. He was not hitting on me! Even if he was, know that I was not enjoying it. Come on, Michael, it’s been such a good day, please don’t ruin it now.” I laid a hand on his arm, hoping to make eye contact with him, but he was too focused on eyeing down Joe from across the room. He was muttering some choice words to himself under his breath and being childish all over again.
“Alright, well I’m going to go to the bathroom and hopefully by the time I get back you’ve come to your senses and stopped pouting like a child.” With a roll of my eyes I slipped off my seat and grabbed Macy away from Mark as we walked toward the restrooms.
“I see there’s an issue between Michael and you already? Not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
“Well, it’s definitely not great,” I muttered as I closed the door to a stall. “God, I hope he’s not always like this when he gets drunk, because this shit is not gonna fly with me.”
“What happened?” Macy said through the openings of the stall.
“He got upset because he thought a guy was hitting on me.”
“Was he?”
I slammed the stall door open and came face with Macy. “God no! It was Joe from our fine arts class. He wanted to say hi and then proceeded to ask me a question about our syllabus.”
“That does sound like Joe.”  I shook my hands dry of water before grabbing a few paper towels and walking out the door.
“Of course it does. But Michael threw a fit, again, and wouldn’t let me expl—” My jaw dropped when I saw the sight in front of me. Macy gasped when she caught on. Michael was dancing with not one, but two girls on the dance floor. My words got caught in my throat. Macy tried to pry me away from the scene, but I couldn’t move. Mark came over to Macy and I, confused as to why we looked like we had seen a ghost.
“You two alright?” Macy nodded her head and he, too, dropped his jaw at the sight in front of him. “But, I thought…”
“Me too,” I mumbled. My legs were getting weaker and my lips began to quiver. It was only when I saw Michael head toward the door with both girls that I lost my composure, Mark catching me at the last second. He scooped me up and had Macy grab the keys out of his pocket, implying he was going to drive us home. The alcohol got the best of me as tears started to slide down my cheeks. I could feel Mark moving with purpose to get out the door, with Macy hot on his heels. I lifted my head at the perfect, or should I say worst, time. Through blurry eyes I could see Michael stumbling into a cab filled with high-pitched laughters. My tears grew to sobs and then my sobs grew to chokes. This was painful.
I had finally gotten what I wanted, but it was nothing like I’d ever expected.
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