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stusbunker · 2 years

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Barstools and Backrooms 2

A Supernatural A/B/O Fanfic in Two Parts

Featuring: Omega!Dean x Alpha!Jo

Written for: @spnabobingo

Square filled: Non-traditional Alpha Traits

Night-vision

Internal Vaginal Knot

Teeth growth

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: ~4650

Summary: Dean waits for Jo. It turns out a female alpha is not what he had thought. A vulnerable experience follows. Dean still has a job to do.

Warnings: Cunnilingus, sex toys, anal play, hand job, vaginal penetration, knotting, feelings.

SPN ABO BINGO Card

Big shout out to @lastactiontricia & @rockhoochie for always listening to me wax on about ABO shenanigans.

Part One

There is something about waiting in the dark that brings Dean back to himself. It used to unsettle him, adrenaline thrumming through him as he’d wait for his dad to return from a hunt. But now, it’s almost the opposite, because anything that could be after him he knew he could handle it.

Until now.

Because now he’s waiting on Jo to close the bar. For her to ditch her mom and come find him in the room he’s got to himself. God, it feels like it’s been forever since he’s been alone. Factor in being alone with hopes of a good time, it’s been even longer.

He’s down to his boxers and a t-shirt, pretending to sleep as he cups himself over the cotton. He’s half hard, his arousal noticeable on the air now even to himself. He checked the lock twice before he turned off the light. The only way someone is getting in is if they’re breaking down the door or if they have a key. He’s letting himself stew in the anticipation of a night with Jo. A female alpha, something he thought he’d never find.

Male alphas serve their purpose, but Dean never takes one on without a fight. Can’t let them feel like they have the power, otherwise they use you and lose you as fast as their knot recedes. He wonders if Jo will let him tease her. He thinks he’d like to see her lose her cool, just a little. Dean would like to be the one to make her shiver.

He hears her footsteps against the uneven floorboards, smells her jasmine and iron scent, even though it’s masked by the soap they use on the bar towels, all before she’s got the master key in the lock. Any other time or place, he’d be up with his gun aimed at the door. But not tonight, instead he’s shifting against the sheets. The wet, aching emptiness demands his attention more each passing moment.

Jo pauses at the door, listening, and inhales. She practically purrs. He feels her approval from the balls of his feet up to his scalp, a vibrating warmth. And she hasn’t even opened the door. Dean feels like he’s floating in a dream of his own choosing. But like any dream, it can only last so long.

He refuses to wake now.

“Knock knock,” she whispers as she enters, the green haze of the emergency exit sign giving her an unearthly glow.

“Come on in,” Dean replies, voice like steel wool in his throat.

Jo hums, eyes darting around the room, the yellow gleam of her night vision making her look more dangerous, more powerful. Dean’s officially ruined this pair of shorts.

“Thought you’d be up, watching TV or something,” Jo says like she’s intruding.

Dean sits up against the headboard, arms braced behind his head. “I tried, just kept getting up to change the channel and it only gets like five anyway—- how was the rest of your shift?”

“It was— shitty. Yeah, that’s pretty much it. But hey, I don’t have to work tomorrow, so—,” Jo trails off.

“You’ve got that going for you,” Dean quotes.

She giggles and steps closer to the bed. “I can’t believe you’re back here smelling like sex and still so cool about everything.”

Dean shrugs. “I just make it look easy. Cuz the way you’re looking at me right now?”

Jo’s pupils grow impossibly wider in the dim light. She licks her lips, smirking and waiting.

“It’s taking everything in me not to roll over and present for you, Jo. You fucking know what—”

She’s on him before he can finish his filthy confession, mouth open and thighs tight around his waist. Their tongues continue the conversation, promising and praising in kind. He’s both hard and wet because she’s so firm and hot in his arms.

They were always going to end up here, someday.

He gets her shirt over her head and starts sucking on her tits, all he needs is a mouthful and her nails are already digging into the back of his neck. He whimpers at the pain, drags her bra down just to suck harder when she doesn’t loosen her hold.

She watches him ravish her, like she’s paying for the show. And Dean’s working for tips. He eases them to their sides, getting his hand down her pants, feeling how soft she is. Dean doesn’t know what he was expecting, but a neatly trimmed vulva was not it. He pauses long enough for Jo to lean in, nose ghosting up his jaw until she can whisper in his ear, “you can see for yourself if you get these things off of me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Dean gets her on her back while she kicks off her shoes.

He peels off her jeans and thong in one long drag, leaving plush kisses down her legs as he goes. She unclasps the tangled mess that was her bra. Dean lifts her leg and checks her out, almost comically. He lifts the other one, looking underneath like he’s lost something.

Dean rests on his haunches. “Well, shit. This was not what I was expecting.”

Jo forces out a giggle. “Is it gonna be a problem?”

“What? No! No problem. I’ll just—.” Dean pulls off his shirt and wiggles down the bed, so he’s eye level with her pussy. “I’ll just get comfy.”

Her laughter is genuine this time as he smacks his lips and looks her over like a fresh baked pie. He starts slowly, pulling her open and tasting her. Her alpha potency is deeper there, tangy and intoxicating. He twists so his legs are spread, his body begging for her on both ends. He ruts against the sheets to little relief. He draws her perfectly average clit between his lips, completely floored by how normal she is, like any beta girl he’d been with before. A textbook pussy and Dean’s still baffled. But he does his best to hide his confusion with attention.

And then he finds it, her knot. Not at the base of her non-existent dick, but just on the inside of her channel. He inches two fingers inside her, feeling the extra warmth hug his digits as he explores. It isn’t full yet, but he can sense the strength behind it, even relaxed. His dick weeps for it.

He reaches deeper and finds her g spot, rubbing in time with his tongue on her clit. Somewhere along the way, Jo was cursing at him and he just realized she’s starting to growl. He melts further into her lap, drinking her in as she comes.

“Fucking slut, you like that pussy, don’t you? Hungry little omega, aren’t you?”

Dean whines against her folds, slurping up the last drops.

“That’s it, clean up your mess,” Jo croons, scratching gently at his scalp.

Her words lock into place in his mind, no, someplace deeper and he shivers. He wants to let go. He wants her in control.

“Alpha?” Dean begs, suddenly wrecked with want. Unsure what she’ll do with him now, he waits, watching her breath even out. Her pink nipples beacons on her pale flesh.

Jo sits up, drawing his mouth to hers for a tender kiss, thanking and reassuring. She releases him. “Do you have anything with you? Any heat toys? Condoms?”

Dean blushes, but nods, watching her lips instead of her eyes.

“Get them for me? I want to see what you like,” Jo coaxes.

“You. I like you—- I don’t need that now, do I?” Dean argues like the charmer he is.

Jo pulls back, searching Dean’s eyes for honesty.“Tell me you weren’t expecting to get fucked tonight.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Jo— I am perfectly capable of doing the fucking.”

“‘Oh, you think you’re going to do what now?” Jo’s tone is suddenly short.

Dean lowers his gaze. “ I mean, if you want me to.”

“What I want you to do is get your dildo and some condoms. And then I want you to present, omega.”

Dean whines, but he doesn’t move. A lifetime of taking orders and he doesn’t want it to come to that now. Not with Jo.

Somehow, she sees his private struggle and she reigns in the power trip. “Please?”

Dean closes his eyes and inhales their mingled scents. He is safe and he can want this. She wants him to. She asked him to! Without another word, he slides off the bed.

Dean finds his duffel on the dresser next to the ancient television. Rifles through his toiletries for the condoms and then goes into the hidden inner pocket for his knotting toy. It’s something he’s only ever used alone, but the fact that she knew he’d have it makes him squirm. She’s been with other omegas. Maybe not a lot of male ones, but Jo knows what she’s doing. His mind is rapidly trying to catch up with all of the little truths he’s discovering, while his body is kicking off his soiled boxers and climbing back onto the bed.

Jo hums appreciatively. She’s sitting cross-legged, hugging herself loosely from the chill in the air. Dean drops his wares into her lap and turns to face the pillows, ass up, head down, he submits. His balls and thighs are coated with slick, his asshole and his dick throbbing for her.

Jo sets the condoms next to Dean’s knee and crawls behind him. Externally, she’s small, but her alpha presence makes herself known. Dean shivers before she even touches him, arousal and anticipation emanating from them both.

“So ready for me, baby,” Jo croons.

Dean tsks at the unnecessary moisture between his cheeks and drops his head onto his forearm, still waiting. Her nimble fingers rub into his thighs, up into the crease, spreading him open. She kisses the small of his back just as she starts to drag the heavy tip of his silicone knotting toy through his slick. She circles his entrance without pressure, teasing him and earning more of the natural lubricant at the same time.

“Oh, God,” Dean whines.

“I’ve always wondered—- god you guys must need, like, twice as much water as anybody else, this stuff is just gushing right out of you!”

That shuts down Dean’s theory about her being with other male omegas… maybe any other omegas. He looks over his shoulder and huffs, “enough with the anatomy lesson, are you gonna fuck me or not?”

Her wonder and awe turn cold as she shoves the fat head of the dildo into Dean’s puffy asshole. He grunts, but takes it, knowing she didn’t give it all to him, yet. “You don’t need to be such a dick,” she mumbles more annoyances under her breath as she twists the toy, a distracting, fruitless motion. Dean Winchester doesn’t beg, but he does lean in, hinting, however silently.

“All the alphas at school would talk about this, the ultimate triumph— the true making of an alpha was to get an omega wet and presenting for them. Like it was the holy grail, the pinnacle of our gender. They’d tease me, telling me how I’d never see it on my back.” She slid the toy the rest of the way inside Dean, making him gasp. “I don’t even know how they knew, but they all knew I wasn’t—- I wasn’t a real alpha.”

She rolls the knot between her fingers, as far as his ass cheeks allow, rocking the handle with shallow pulses against his shaking channel.

“Feels real,” Dean promises, rolling his hips for more.

Jo hums in half belief. She reaches forward and cups his balls, heavy and sticky in her palm. She maneuvers around them for his dick, stroking him slowly. Dean freezes on the spot, tension rolling off of him. Dean’s pleasure feels like he’s being unraveled, fucked and pulled apart. Jo’s hitting his prostate with each thrust, and he can’t be done now, he needs to feel her— the real knot she has to give him.

Dean lunges forward and spins away, the dildo still wedged in his ass, a literal tail between his legs. He squats and tears it out of himself, desperation and fear cloud the room.

Jo’s a deer caught in headlights, then she looks to the floor, the predator in her disappears.

Dean catches his breath, watching as she starts to move towards her clothes. “Hey? Don’t go—- I just— couldn’t take anymore. I’d’ve come all over the comforter and you’d have had to wait on me to get to pop your knot. I just wanna feel ya— you know?”

Dean reaches up with his left hand and traces her cheek bone with his thumb. “Alpha?”

Jo’s whine turns into a purr. Dean banks on that hope and wedges himself underneath her, so he’s on his back and she’s half in his lap. He leans up and kisses her until she’s smirking and blushing at his goofiness, his determined affection. She melts in his arms and he feels her alpha pick herself back up. ‘Atta girl,’ he thinks.

Dean’s no stranger to schoolyard mockery, but, at the end of the day, he had two pig headed alphas protecting him from the bullies. Jo lost her dad so young—- she never had somebody she could look up to, somebody to teach her that an alpha is more than what’s between their legs. His heart grows heavy with their matching insecurities.

She nestles her nose into the crook of his neck, concerned at the change in his scent.

“I’m good, Jo,” Dean whispers, nudging her with the side of his face. “Condom?”

“Condom,” Jo agrees as her hand leaves his hip to drag through the tangle of blankets. She sits back on her heels and Dean’s got front row seats. His hands slide up her lithe form, thumbs grazing her nipples as she tears open the protection. Her skin pebbles under his touch and Dean feels infinitely grateful he took her offer for the room. That he didn’t let his ego stop him from accepting her help.

Jo grabs his dick once more, having tossed the wrapper somewhere on the floor. Dean kisses her jaw as she slides the condom in place, then her shoulder and her collarbone. She presses him down onto the bed, kissing him firmly before leaning back and lining up. Jo sinks onto Dean’s covered cock with a smirk like a gymnast landing the final pose of a floor exercise, pure mischievous triumph.

But Dean doesn’t even get the full effect, because she’s hugging him so tight his eyes close under the pleasure. Deep breaths. She sinks into it, rests completely flush with his lap and then squeezes him as she gets her knees into place. Like she was afraid to lose him in the adjustment.

Dean isn’t going anywhere anytime soon—- every inch of him is on board.

Jo rubs down Dean’s chest, searching for purchase. He leans up for a kiss, all smiles and swollen lips. He’s so relieved she’s enjoying herself now. She kisses his scent gland, and shoves him onto his back again. His eyes go wide and she shoves his face in jest. He smirks, lifts his chin and looks away, giving her all of the control. She sucks on the hollow of his throat and starts to ride him, in slow, shallow waves.

Dean whines when she grazes his nipple. But Jo doesn’t take the bate and tease him further, instead she sits tall and fucks him hard. Dean tries to hold back, to just lay there and take it, enjoying the view. But his hips have other plans.

She rides him through his bucking, grabbing his hand when it goes for her tit, lacing her fingers through his and holding him tight, forcing him just a little further away. But at a better angle. Dean gasps as he feels her knot start to swell, the pressure on the other side of pain. His insides tremble, preparing him for something he’s yet to experience.

“Cover your neck,” Jo husks out, canines flashing in the dark room as they grow.

Dean whines with something too close to protest, but he obliges, throwing his free hand over his naked throat, the last barrier between them.

She speeds up only to suddenly stop, her knot snaps into place around the base of his shaft. She keens as she comes, nails digging into the back of Dean’s hand as he follows. “A-a-a-a-a, fuck, Jo!”

“So good!” She pants, pulsing without end. Her knot is a second heart, wet and beating around him. He feels it when his pulse steadies to match hers and he comes again, forever grateful for the condom. The back and forth of her knot’s grip and the welcoming warmth of her body makes Dean see spots. Jo giggles as she catches her breath and Dean cups his neck tighter.

Scared at how bad he wants to let go and let her bite him.

She scents his apprehension, so she loosens her hold on his fingers. Her thumb draws soothing circles on his palm until he looks at her. The mesmerizing yellow rings of her eyes make him freeze, the naturally skittish creature that he is. His omega nudges his brain back to safety; this is a trap of their own making. Jo feels him relax and she leans close to lick into his mouth.

She hums when he kisses her back, smirking.

“This is— this is something,” Dean’s voice scratches. He swallows and releases his neck. She feels the pull to claim, she salivates for it. But she doesn’t act, she breathes Dean in, his trust and euphoria help her focus and keep her human.

“You’re my first omega—- this is everything,” Jo whispers, staring at the side of Dean’s face, and not into his eyes.

Dean swallows again and wraps his arms around her as best he can.

“Here, lets—.” They resituate, her leg bends beneath them as they fall to their sides. ‘That’s better,” Dean sighs.

Jo tongues her canines, fascinated by their temporary length. Meanwhile, Dean’s never been this hard, especially not after two orgasms, but that’s another benefit of Jo’s knot. It’s like it’s sucking the blood into his dick, drawing out the pleasure as long as she needs him. He imagines what she’s like in rut and Jo groans as his fresh arousal coats her tongue.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks, biting her lips as she catches his blush.

“Huh? Oh, just— you know, stuff,” Dean bullshits terribly.

Jo nods and rolls her eyes. “Stuff—- right.”

He reaches up and tucks her hair behind her ear, his thumb sinks down and drags over her equally bare mating gland. “You are a real alpha, Jo. Best knot I’ve had in a very long time.”

Jo squirms at the praise, but even Dean can’t miss the hint of jealousy on the air.

“Thanks, Dean. I— I just need more practice and I’ll—,” Jo starts promising.

“That’s not what I meant. I’m serious— I mean if you want to keep practicing— I’m all yours—- but I just want you to know that this.” Dean drops his hand and fingers the tight ring of flesh holding him in place. “This is more than I could have hoped for—- I like being inside you.”

Jo’s brain stopped on the phrase ‘all yours’. Then the soft stroking of his calloused fingers drag her back to reality; blood covers her tongue as she bites her bottom lip.

She hums a growl, dragging her nose through the hair at his temple as Dean grazes her clit. She squeezes him impossibly tighter until he stops so they both can breathe.

“You did that on purpose,” Jo accuses.

“What? Me? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean teases, nuzzling her nose with his.

“You’re just making it last longer, I hope you know that. The more blood flow down there, the longer you’re stuck with me,” Jo informs, like it is a punishment.

“Darn,” Dean laments and goes to touch her again, but she’s too fast and she snatches his wrist before he can make her come for a third time. They lock eyes and break into giggles. She hits him with his own hand and he pretends to be offended.

They fall into comfortable silence.

Jo balances her head in her free hand, elbow against the bed and looks down at Dean as his eyes start to flutter closed. He’s not asleep and they both know it. She wonders what it feels like for him, being empty and sated at the same time. She doesn’t ask, she just holds his hand to her heart and hopes this happens again.

“When’s your next heat? Maybe we could—-,” Jo thinks aloud.

“I’m on birth control, so I only get them every couple of months,” Dean explains. “But, uh, yeah, I’ll call you— or Sam will if I start to stink too much.”

Jo grins.

“What about you? When’s your next rut due?” Dean cocks one eye open, chin dipping in seriousness.

Jo starts to play with the bracelets on Dean’s wrist. “April and October, generally.”

“Well, that’s convenient,” Dean says, waggling his eyebrows at the quickly approaching possibilities.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to mess up the job,” Jo asks firmly, not yet buying his playboy front for more than it is.

“I mean, I can’t guarantee anything— but if you need me. I’ll be here as soon as I can. I’m never one to turn down a sexy alpha in need,” Dean plays up the valiance of his offer.

Jo rolls her eyes and straightens her leg, her knot is softening and both of their hormones are dropping, leaving the rest of their muscles vulnerable to cramping. She groans as Dean starts to soften inside her and the used condom.

Dean shushes her with a deep kiss, meanwhile he spins them until Jo’s on her back. He rocks against her, enjoying the slowly returning range of motion.

“God, alpha,” Dean husks out, even as his legs protest in pins and needles.

Jo sighs, hands rubbing up Dean’s strong arms, delighting in the cords of muscles as he comes loose of her depths. His head falls into the crook of her neck and he kisses her collar bone. “Guess I better clean up,” Dean says, even as he makes no effort to move.

Jo plays with his hair. “There’s a shower in the small bathroom down the hall, but you never know when Ash will be in there.”

“Knowing Ash, it can’t be THAT often,” Dean counters. They both laugh before falling back into a weighty quiet.

Jo shifts and Dean’s only touching her by the tilt of his head. “Dean?”

He hums.

“Thank you. I know you didn’t want this, but thank you for—.”

Dean pulls back and places a hand over Jo’s mouth before she can finish. “You’re welcome. But more importantly—- THANK YOU. I mean it, Jo. That was amazing. You—- your alpha is fucking amazing. And I’m pretty sure my dick will have bruises in the morning. Which means—.”

He pulls his hand away to pet her hair.

“That I’m going to be thinking about your knot for days… maybe a week or two. It was that good. You hear me?”

Jo nods, words failing her. But the quiver of her bottom lip tells Dean more than anything. He sits up and scoops her up into his lap, dragging his nose over her scent gland until he feels the tears fall against his shoulder. He kisses her neck, tonguing the unmarred flesh until she releases it all.

He scents the rollercoaster of emotions as they drive through her. Dean holds her tighter.

He's stunned by this vulnerability, but he won’t stop trying to soothe her through it. His omega is always waiting in the background for moments like this, to protect and care in his own unique way. It’s times like these that he knows why Sammy is so good with the victims, even as a supersized alpha. Because Dean taught his little brother to be gentle without even meaning to.

Dean just never let himself be gentle to himself. He doubts Jo knows how to either.

Jo exhales and wipes away her tears, pulling up the covers with the other hand. Dean stands, cupping his dick and the drooping condom as he watches her get settled. “I’ll be right back.”

Jo nods again and curls onto her side, a kid tucking themselves in.

Dean grabs a fresh pair of shorts and a spare blanket from the dresser. He wraps it over his shoulders like a cape and makes his way to the communal bathroom.

She’s asleep when he gets back, mouth open and body warm. He crawls over her and sinks beneath the sheets, curving against her as the little spoon. She recoils from the chill of his damp skin, but draws him tighter all the same. She throws a leg over his hip and chins over his head. Somehow, it’s comfortable. Somehow it is right. They both fall asleep.

Ellen wakes them for breakfast the next morning.

The apartment above the bar is smaller than Dean imagined, but still homey. He is extra polite to his hostess, scared of offending the overprotective beta mother. Jo seems to find his kowtowing humorous, though and he just kicks her under the table. Sam shows up halfway into the meal, cautious and nosy as ever.

Dean wants to kick him too.

There’s a hunt in Georgia, which means more than a day of driving. Dean silently thanks whatever God there is that Jo didn’t knot him with his toy, too. Dean polishes off his coffee and waits for Sam to finish his eggs.

Jo is back to her earnest self, asking details about the haunting that Sam must have dug up the night before. Dean wants to live in this moment forever. Her dark eyes are shining and he can almost hear the gears turning in her head as she listens to Sam’s answers. But she’s too good for the hunting life. And he’s too far into it to leave now.

Maybe, someday.

First, he needs to tackle this salt and burn. Then he needs to find a way to save his brother.

Easy peasy.

Jo must have asked him something because everyone is looking at Dean expectantly. “Sorry?”

She looks at him like he’s lucky he’s pretty— which he’s known for a long time. But if it ain’t broke… “Anyway, one of you will call when you’re settled? Keep us posted?”

She drags Ellen in, making it less about them as a budding couple and more about the collective concern. It was like he could feel himself sliding out of her all over again, the finality of it. Dean gave the women his company smile. “Of course.”

Deflector shields back on.

Jo follows them down the back steps and into the parking lot. Dean puts on the charm and effectively gags his inner omega when Jo leans up for a hug. He rocks her playfully from side to side.

“Be safe,” she half-heartedly demands.

Dean looks down his nose at her. “Always am.”

They both know he’s lying. She nods and accepts the nonchalance. “Okay, but seriously, call me? Because I’m not gonna be a stalker alpha. Just—-- don’t be a stranger?”

Dean softens. He kisses her quick, but grabs her ass before she can really savor it. She smacks his hand and giggles, falling back onto her heels.

“I guess I better go,” Dean says simply. She steps back, releasing him. She pretends not to watch them go, they both look back at different times. He climbs into the car and checks the rearview. She’s hauling open the heavy door and he revs the engine, forcing her to watch as he peels out of the gravel lot.

She flips him off.

Tell me what you think!

Tagging: @idreamofdeanie @stoneyggirl2 @dolphincliffs @flamencodiva @crashdevlin @dontshootmespence @thoughtslikeaminefield @rockhoochie @dawnie1988 @mrswhozeewhatsis @cosicas-cuquis @foxyjwls007 @tumbler-tidbits @defenderrosetyler @ericaprice2008 @wingedcatninja @akshi8278 @itmighthavebeenintentional @smi727

#spnabobingo #dean/jo #omega!dean x alpha!jo #spn abo #spn fanfic #spn a/b/o #chestervelle #dean winchester smut

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hotchscvm · 3 years

Text

love me, hate me - part two

Warnings: explicit sexual content, swearing

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: Christmas comes around and Ransom wants you more than ever.

part one

"You're telling me you actually want to date this guy? The one who can't even make you cum?" you asked, licking the remaining frosting from your finger. You placed the messy bowl in the sink, watching your best friend trying—and failing—to get the egg shells out of the mixture.

Meg gave up, dumping the brownie batter down the sink with the water running, fed up with the shells. "Yeah, but sex isn't everything, you know. I don't know—it's just this guy isn't like my exes. He genuinely cares about my feelings, and doesn't control me. Besides, he made me cum a few times. He's nice."

With Mariah Carey's Christmas music playing in the background, the miniature Christmas tree on the table, and the snow falling, the Thrombey household felt festive. Although, the people bundled up and arguing in the next room—not so much. Yet, neither of you cared while you continued to work, helping Martha out, on the desserts. It wasn't going as well as planned, but you took it as a positive considering you hadn't started a fire. Yet.

"Ah, yes, nice. Can't relate. I'm currently attracted to assholes who have anger issues." you commented, passing Meg the flour once again. Your creation was in the oven, and all you hoped was that no one got food poisoning because of it. Even you couldn't live with the guilt of Ransom, or his touchy father, throwing up Christmas morning.

"Currently?" Meg asked, raising an eyebrow, getting eggs out of the fridge for the hundredth time. She glanced at the direction of the door, the sound of it opening drawing both of your attention. "I'm pretty sure your daddy issues didn't just happen recently. Speaking of which, you may be the main reason Ransom decided to come back for Christmas instead chasing a model around."

You rolled your eyes, sitting back in your chair while contemplating whether or not it's too late to ditch. While Ransom was hot, his spoiled attitude wasn't worth tolerating for a quick fuck. With sarcasm dripping, you sighed. "Oh, how wonderful. 'Cause, that's exactly what I need right now."

Meg chuckled, focusing on the task at hand, trying not get shells in the mixture again. She had held off on mixing the dry stuff, much to your dismay, but to her it made sense to get the hard part out of the way so it wouldn't fuck everything up. Your best friend had just finished cracking her last egg when Harlan walked into the kitchen, Ransom trailing a few feet behind him. The playboy's eyes immediately landed on you, yet you didn't meet his, too preoccupied with the phone in your hands.

Harlan's slight frown lifted into a smile, surveying how messy the kitchen had gotten. "My, my, I wasn't aware a cake had exploded in my kitchen."

Looking up, you grinned at the old man, the smile reaching your eyes until you saw who was behind him. Ignoring Ransom, you giggled at Harlan's remark. "You call it a mess, we call it baking."

"As long as you ladies are having fun." Harlan replied, patting your shoulder before heading off towards his office, too tired to deal with his dysfunctional family at the moment.

Ransom lingered, walking up to you, a smirk impended on his face. Yet, you refocused you're attention back on your phone while Meg left the room, her apron still attached to her. You didn't question her sudden disappearance, knowing she was just as annoyed at Ransom's presence. The man in question peeked over you shoulder to see your screen showing off another man's dick, the words right below it explicit.

His jaw clenched in jealousy. Much to his chagrin, the man's dick was just as big as his own. But, he kept the icy exterior up. "Would it be offensive to ask whether or not your baking will make me sick this evening?"

You scoffed without looking up, tapping out of the dick pic your previous hook up had sent. "Since when do you care if you're offensive or not? Who are you, and what have you done to Ransom Drysdale?"

Ransom shrugged, leaning against the kitchen island while facing your annoyed expression. His smug behavior got under your skin, and the bastard was well aware. "Maybe all this Christmas spirit got into me. Or maybe I'm trying to be nice."

You raised an eyebrow, getting off your chair, rushing to the window, pretending to be looking for something. After a few seconds, Ransom's curiosity got the best of him and he joined you, looking for anything unusual outside. The snow-covered land showed nothing out of the ordinary, furthering Ransom's confusion.

"What are you looking at? I can't see anything." he said, squinting at the general direction you had look at.

Shrugging, you moved back to your seat, propping your elbows on the back of the chair, allowing a smug smirk lift your lips. "I thought pigs were flying. Ransom Drysdale isn't capable of being nice, yet alone say the word. I'm shocked hell hadn't freeze over. Yet."

The playboy rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he took your body in, wrapped in his favorite color, the dress hugging your curves. "What's a guy have to do to be taken seriously with you? You and I both know I can give you everything you want, and more."

"Are you trying to buy me right now?" you asked, half teasing, half annoyed. Ransom could not take a hint, and you hated the fact that he didn't back off despite the sarcasm and insults you threw his way.

"I'm trying to be nice but you're making it really hard." Ransom answered, his cockiness wearing off. He was growing frustrated the more you looked at him like he was a piece of trash. All you wanted him to be was nice, now that he was trying to be, you wouldn't believe his intentions, despite wanting to prove it to you.

Pursing your lips, you tapped your finger against the table, the acrylic nail making a clicking noise. "You wanna prove it? Fine. You've got til midnight tonight. If you're unable to change my mind, you have to buy me my spring break vacation, all the fees and expenses."

"And if I do change your mind..." Ransom smirked, brushing a stray hair behind your ear, earning a half-hearted glare. "... you have to go on a date with me."

Ransom nearly burst out laughing from your shocked expression, the genuine look of surprised slapped on your face with the words. You shut your hanging jaw, still not processing what he was saying. "Excuse me?"

"You have to go on a date with me if I convince you that I'm willing to change my, and I quote, 'bratty and douchebag ways.' An actual date where we sit down, eat dinner, talk about our feelings, and get drunk. Whatever happens, happens." Ransom purred, placing a finger on your bottom lip. You slapped his hand away, and his smirked grew. "Are you going to back out of this already, princess?"

It was your stubborn side that made agree, pressing your lips into a thin line, you grabbed Ransom's hand, shaking it. He raised an eyebrow while you sighed. "You're on. Hope you have enough money to pay for a lengthy trip. I plan on drinking every bottle of wine in Italy."

Despite your baking debacle, you left the kitchen, leaving Meg's monstrous creation on the counter along with Ransom. You went into the living room, trying to find the girl in question when you happened to stumble upon Richard. He barely got to say a word before you turned around, and left the pervert behind. It was always a puzzle how Ransom turned out so hot with Richard and Linda as parents.

Climbing the stairs, you heard the family arguing growing quieter with each step. The second floor was almost a safe haven considering Harlan didn't let anyone raise their voice in the upper level, making it the only quiet place in the house, safe from any Thrombey fights. It was a wonder how the family hadn't murdered each other yet; it was only a matter of time.

Unable to find Meg in your shared room, you sighed, patting your body to find your phone only to realize you left it in the kitchen. With Ransom.

"Looking for this?" Ransom held out your phone, coming up behind you. His usual smirk was gone, a small, genuine smile in its place. It made him look less arrogant.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

You took your phone back, half expecting him to take it back just as you wrapped your fingers around it. But he didn't. You realized he was pulling out all the stops, all the little things that you found annoying was gone. He was acting. Eyes narrowing, you unlocked your phone, studying him. "Thanks. I think."

"Meg is helping the Brazilian maid." Ransom answered your silent question. Your thumb hovered her contact, going back to the home screen. Your eyebrows had risen by his mis-categorization of Martha's race and employment. "Pretty sure they went to the grocery store or something."

"Oh, okay." you replied lamely, putting your phone in your back pocket, the tight jeans making it nearly impossible. Opening the door to your room, you stepped in, not giving Ransom another look. But he followed inside, making you turn around. "Do you need something?"

Ransom stuffed his hands in his pockets, the cream-colored sweater shifting with the gesture. "You didn't exactly give me much time to prove myself. And looking around, we're all alone. I can't think of a better time."

As much as you hated to admit it, he had a point. The bet was a bit unfair considering how stubborn you were, and the amount of time he had to convince you. But it was a bit unsettling seeing Ransom try so hard, let alone being nice. You nodded, agreeing. "Fine, but can I change first? I'd rather not be covered in flour while you try to seduce me."

"You and I both know I wouldn't seduce you before dinner. There's no way in hell I'd treat you like the others." he mumbled to himself, but you heard it. Clearing his throat, he stepped out of the room. "Yeah, I'll be outside. Waiting. Take your time."

As soon as the door closed, you looked around the room to check if you were being pranked, expecting Ashton Kutcher to burst out of the closet along with a bunch of cameramen. After a few seconds, you came to the conclusion that Supernatural was in this universe, deciding "Ransom" was a shapeshifter or a demon possessed him. It was the only reasonable explanation.

Reaching for the hem of your top, pulling it off in one swift move, dropping it on the bed. Your jeans piling on top, allowing your legs to breathe. Despite Joni's hippie side, she had let Meg sneak in a few joints, the smell becoming stronger as you neared both your suitcases. You didn't think Harlan would be too please to have weed in his house, no matter how lenient he is.

You took your time, a little baffled by what to wear. Ransom hadn't exactly given you an agenda on his plans, leaving you to grab a clean pair of black jeans, and a classy, yet simple, red top. You looked decent enough to fit in a nice restaurant, but casual in case Ransom decided he wanted McDonald's, and most importantly: warm. If he wanted to take you to the North Pole, then he'd have to give you his cozy-looking sweater.

You opened the door, the sight of Ransom rocking on his heels greeting you. His back was to you, his hands inside his pockets as he looked out the window, frost crawling along the edges. It genuinely concerned you how much this man was acting; if you didn't know better, you'd think it was real.

Clearing your throat, you watched him jump in surprise, quickly turning to you. Raising an eyebrow, you tucked your phone in your pocket, meeting his warm, blue eyes. "I'm ready."

"Okay." said Ransom, motioning for you to follow him. You walked down the stairs without a word, the air becoming thick as you walked behind him. The sweater did little to no good disguising his broad shoulders, the muscles somehow still visible under the clothing.

As soon as you reached the bottom, you glanced around, the Thrombey fighting becoming louder with each second. It wouldn't be long before one of them stormed out of the room, muttering a curse under their breath. You'd seen all of them do it at least once. You crossed your arms, wary of whatever Ransom was planning. "Be honest, you're not just going to drive me off to the middle of the woods and murder me, are you?"

Ransom chuckled, giving you a wink as he held his hand out. Without hesitation, you took it. "If I was planning to murder you, I wouldn't do it in the woods. If you're going to die, it's going to be epic."

"Oh, well, that makes me feel better." you sneered sarcastically, instantly rolling your eyes. In the back of your mind, you pondered how long it would take for your eyes to get stuck in your brain with the amount of times you rolled them at Ransom.

He led you towards the door, smirking. "You ready?"

"No. Let's go."

—

"Fuck, baby."

He spent a few moments just staring at your spread pussy, amazed and aching for you more than he ever ached for anything.

"Don't you know why I want you to see it, Ransom?"

Ransom just shook his head without taking his eyes off the your pneumatic body.

"Because it's yours," you sighed. "All yours, baby. You're the one I've been keeping it nice and fresh for."

"Fuck," he muttered.

He kept staring at you, waiting for you to rub you pussy again, but you didn't. You just kept holding it spread.

"Don't you wanna taste me, Ransom?" you purred, barely above a whisper. "C'mon, baby, please. I want you to lick it so bad. I love you so much and I want to give you everything that belongs to you."

The playboy was all but paralyzed by your words. He finally dragged his eyes off your open pussy and looked at your face. You were staring back at him with a glazed look in your eyes. His solid cock was pulsing hard in the tight grip of his fist. No girl had ever looked at him the way you were at that very moment, yet at the same time, he knew you were playing with the hottest kind of fire there was.

"Sweetheart, you know this wasn't the deal." he whispered, distracted.

You smirked. "But you still won."

He finished the thought by leaning down and sliding his tongue up and over your generously offered pussy. You pulled in a sharp gasp when Ransom's tongue lit up your heavily tingling pussy. Your hips rolled instantly in response, your gasps turning to moans while Ransom eagerly slathered his tongue all around your creamily delicious slit. He soon focused his attention on your clit and slipped a finger up inside your hole at the same time.

The man's finger curled and twisted inside you, searching for you g spot while he suckled and lapped at your fully swollen clit. You could barely form words as you gasped and moaned, your luscious body now writhing with desire.

Your pussy oozed heavily the more he licked and fingered you. Your cream was sweet, tangy and intensely intoxicating. Ransom probed at your hole with his finger and the tip of his tongue at the same time, but he soon drew his soaking wet finger out of your hole and wedged it between your ass cheeks, searching for your puckered rimhole.

You gasped deeply and lifted your legs up higher, giving Ransom better access to your asshole. He massaged your tight bud with his honey-coated finger and made deep, hungry love to your pussy with his mouth.

"God god god god, Ransom!" you cried, your hips rolling harder and harder against the man's mouth and finger.

Your body went tense for a few moments and then relaxed. Ransom backed off and watched you languish after your orgasm, pausing briefly to catch your breath. Then you shifted your body and took the hem of your outfit into your hands and peeled it off over your head. Ransom pulled off his T shirt and slid over on top of your luscious body, grinding his rock-hard cock against your pussy as he lowered himself to kiss you.

You whimpered while Ransom's chest mashed down against your heavy, naked tits. They felt amazing against his body, and he was beyond reason when the your mouth opened and set your tongue into motion against his.

Ransom had never kissed any girl so hard or hungrily in his life. Nor had any kissed him back the way you had. At the same time, you were grinding your slick, wet pussy against his cock as hard as he was grinding against you. Then he squeezed his hands in between them and grasped at your tits, kneading them eagerly with his strong hands.

He released your mouth and said," Baby girl, reach down there and put my cock inside you for me. I need that pussy bad, but I can't bring myself to let go of these fantastic tits now that I finally have my hands on them."

You giggled happily and kissed him again while you worked your hands down between your naked bodies. Finally, you got one hand on your pussy and spreading yourself open while you wrapped the other around Ransom's thick cock.

"Oh geezus, fuck, Ransom, you're so fucking hard," you cooed. "Oh god fuck me deep."

You tucked Ransom's cock head into your wet maw and he began grinding his shaft deeper into your sheath. Your pussy felt so tight and creamy, and you both groaned as his rock-hard flesh gradually filled your body. You looked at each other in disbelief, even though nothing had ever felt more right or natural.

Ransom growled as he began to pump his cock in and out of your spectacular body with long strokes. His grip on your tits went tighter and he lowered his head to suck and lick on your swollen nipples.

You whimpered with pleasure, wrapping your legs around his hips and grinding your pussy hard against his thrusting cock. It wasn't long before he was straining to hold on and keep fucking you deep and hard. You didn't make it any easier because of the way you were moaning and your cunt squeezed his pounding cock every time you came.

Finally, Ransom raised himself up on his hands while he pumped your succulent pussy hole as hard and fast as he could, watching your pretty face twist with pleasure while your tits heaved with the force of his lunging body.

"Gimme your cum, baby. I want it in me...fuck!"

With a final, frenzied volley of full body thrusts, Ransom's pulsing cock exploded in your pussy, filling you with a hot flow of jetting spunk.

After, they spent a long time kissing while Ransom caressed the your beautiful tits. He kept his cock buried inside you until his flesh finally started to relax.

You fell asleep in each other's arms, and Ransom knew he had the girl he always needed right there with him. He had been right, all the sarcastic comments and stupid fights had been worth it.

In the morning, Ransom awoke from a haze of dreams to look down and find you lying between his legs with your lips sliding up and down his swollen cock. When you realized he was awake and watching you, you released his big cock from your mouth, giving his shaft a long lick before greeting him.

"Merry Christmas, Ransom."

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #reader insert #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #knives out #chris evans imagines #ransom drysdale imagine

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bellaslilpapercut · 3 years

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Eclipse reread part 2! This is gonna cover a lot of chapters because I forgot to include stuff from chapters 4, 5, and 6 in part 1 (in my defense your honor, this book is very grating to read). Awayyy we go:

1. so chapters 4-6 really could have been one chapter tbh since the plot is: Bella ditches work at Newton’s Outfitters to hang with Jake and then writes some graduation invites with Angela. She pushes her rusty old behemoth as fast as it can go through driving rain but then hangs outside with Jake the whole time so I don’t really know where the rain went. She also manages to hear Jake gasp through her closed car door! Super sonic! Anyway, Bella insists that Edward is a good guy, Jake makes Bella hold his hand, Jake explains imprinting (yuck we can skip that), and then Edward drives threateningly past Bella while she’s on her way to Angela’s house. Angela reminds Bella that, at his core, Edward is a teen boy who is Totally Jealous of how Ripped and Sexy her 16 year old best friend is. Then Alice kidnaps Bella. Fun times!

2. During the imprinting convo it becomes very apparent that Meyer thinks the worst thing that can happen to a girl is getting broken up with. Somehow Leah got the “worst end” of the Sam/Emily/Leah fiasco despite Sam turning into a “monster” and Emily getting literally mauled in the face. What’s worse is later in the book, during the “Legends” chapter, when Bella wonders if Leah thinks Emily’s scars are a form of “justice.” Yea, Bella, that’s justice.

3. I love this Rosalie quote but hate the entirety of they way meyer writes her story. Others have mentioned it before but Meyer writes Rose's dialogue there as if Rose is an author and not like...a person telling a story. An easy fix would be to format Rosalie's story "flash back" style rather than have her narrate all the way through. Then you can include all the superfluous details of exactly what everyone's voice sounded like and all the excessive dialogue tags you want.

I also Violently Abhor this quote here:

Yea, meyer, the Hot Girl hates your self-insert because her stupid ass brother didn't have the hots for her. It just reads like weird middle school revenge fantasy "I only hated you because you were so Special!!!" Sure, sure. Also "all those females!" People don't talk like that @stephanie

4. I do love the scene when Bella “escapes” from Alice with Jake (I don’t know why i put escape in quotes, Alice could definitely murk Bella) but then that whole adventure ends with Jake telling Bella he’d rather she die than turn into a vampire. And yeah, fair buddy, but also you’ve known Bella for a long time. This should not be a surprise to you at all even a little bit. a) she mentioned it before, b) you knew she would never get over Edward even if your plan in NM had worked, and c) you’ve known that she’s fully obsessed with the Cullen’s since you started hanging out with her again. The last time you guys hung out she went on an impassioned rampage about how lovely and good and fantastic Edward is (footage not found) I really don’t know why you’re surprised that this hard-headed girl is prepared to commit to vampirism for him. She is not normal lmfao.

5. The legends chapter. Oh boy. Stephanie, Meyer, Smeyer. Honestly it might have been less offensive if she had just made up a whole new tribe to give these backstories to, for all that they have in common with real Quileute legends but actually that would still be offensive and terrible anyway. I don’t know how to describe this adequately but if you’ve ever seen G.I. Joe’s portrayal of indigenous people that’s exactly what meyer made Old Quil and Billy’s dialogue sound like. Just absolutely dripping with Mystical Native/ Magical Native trope from the content to the tone. https://mthg.org/ Because it can’t be plugged enough.

6. The legends chapter ends with this Wuthering Heights quote:

I have no qualms with it's inclusion, if you really want to push the Edward is Heathcliff and Bella is Cathy agenda, I don't believe it but fine, whatever. But those last two paragraphs are such a dumb way to end a chapter. Every chapter ending should make the reader want to turn the page: this makes me want to shut the book (actually I did take a long break after this lmfao). Anyway, just end the quote on "drank his blood," bold those three words, and end the chapter there. Don't go back and say "the three words that stood out were... Anyway it could have fallen to any page I believe in coincidence teehee!!" That's just annoying.

7. Okay guys I hate to say it but Edward does get a lil bit of ~character growth after the first few chapters. He comes home after having Bella kidnapped (she decides not to be angry, surprise surprise) and is all "so I've been thinking about it and you're right my Beloved Angel Face or whatever, please hang out with Jacob but also wear a helmet on your motorcycle my Beloved Dumb Idiot or whatever" (paraphrase). And he also says this in chapter 12:

Which is like, man I hate when I agree with Edward but I agree with Edward here. Now I know from MS that he only wants Bella to stay human because he's creating an Unfolding Drama in his head but this bit of dialogue is really sweet. And it's funny that he thought Bella didn't want to marry him because she just wanted to use him for immortality but it's also a Dark Reminder that he's literally only romantic with her because he can't read her mind and can't tell that she's just as obsessed with his looks as the other Teen Girls TM.

8. uuuh Jasper’s Backstory Time. This is so infuriating to read for so many reasons. So we know that smeyer got Jasper’s name from a confederate memorial/ listing (from a New Moon Q&A but the link isn’t secure so I can’t share) so I know that his backstory was always meant to be Confederate Soldier which makes everything else about his characterization just baffling. Again, he was the only Cullen that was genuinely kind to Bella besides Carlisle for the entire first book and he’s still incredibly kind during Eclipse (which is another issue I have though because no one mentions again that Jasper tried to eat Bella and they stand close to each other and hang out and Bella’s never like “this is scary, this dude tried to kill me” but i digress). The point is: smeyer knew he was going to be a confederate from book 1. She never addresses that this was bad, she never has Jasper mention that he regrets his role in the war, he is the only Cullen that’s actually capable of empathizing with humans anymore (Carlisle cares but I would not categorize him as empathetic), it just... None of these pieces fit together. This is a fraught and bloody history that smeyer throws in with no thought to how it might alienate black readers (though tbh she constantly emphasizes “white beauty” throughout the series so I doubt she cares) and the editors don’t question it either. No one, at any point in time, said “Hey, steph, you know confederates fought for slavery, right?” Every black american deserves reparations. White women and men who glorify the civil war should be the first to pay up.

9. I’m gonna jump back to chapters 9 & 10 here (target & scent, respectively) to say: no tension is being effectively built. I get it, someone stole your clothes. You’re annoyed because you have nothing to wear and Victoria is scary. But where is she? Where is the volturi? Move it along, please! This is one of the challenges of 1st person narrative because the author is stuck in the eyes of, usually, the person who knows the least. Meyer is not a talented enough author to make this interesting. Not to bring up THG again but Suzanne Collins really knew how to work 1st person. Everything that Katniss asserts with certainty throughout the series gets either confirmed or denied by the narrative, keeping it interesting. She assumes the worst of the people around her so we’re pleasantly surprised when people violate those assumptions. We’re kept on edge by how little Katniss knows and SC never gifts Katniss with more knowledge than she could be expected to have. Bella is constantly gifted with knowledge and her assumptions are rarely proven wrong. You can dig into the canon a little bit more, read the lexicon and the guide, and find all the examples of Bella being unreliable or making wrong assumptions. But within the narrative she is rarely incorrect. She doesn’t get opportunities to grow out of her false assumptions (while Edward does, at least in Eclipse). So to keep the Victoria debacle interesting, smeyer has to plant seeds like- during these two chapters- Bella thinking of Laurent and Victoria while the cullens discuss who could have been in Bella’s room. That just doesn’t cut it for me.

This is hella long and I’m only halfway through the book. I probably should split the second half into two parts as well but based on how talented smeyer is at stretching out the mundane, especially just before the climax, I probably wont need to.

#eclipse reread #saga reread #the twilight saga #twilight meta #twilight renaissance #long post

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deanirae · 3 years

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Can you get it inside your head I’m tired of dancing?

post 8.07 pre 8.08] crack/angst past turned unrequited deancas, implied deanbenny 2,4k [x]

The sun, also currently known as bitch, has got some serious nerve to sit where it always does, not upside down and nine miles to the left as it frankly should on this memorable fuckhat day. Where is the End of Days when it's really called for? When it should be really nigh?

Dean flips the front mirror panel down not to have to deal with at least that one disappointment. He can still see Cas's half-constipated, half-abandoned and kicked in its fluffy ass puppy face in the mercilessly annoying reflection. The obvious choice would be to not grace it with anything right now, but A – he's the one driving so his eyes can't wander off pretty far, especially in the barely sunlit grayness – and B – on his left, Sam is currently roleplaying a twelve year old girl that has her big emotional introspection accompanied by listening to Sarah McLahlan because her mean parents wouldn't let her buy ebola from the internet. Or something.

Point is, he's three hours into ostentatiously moping, trying to quietly terrorize Dean into making peace with Cas on the fly so it won't be awkward and problematique for him anymore. To Sam, Dean is just too inconvenient anytime he's inconvenient. And that, by order of nature herself, demands immediate and final stopping and ballot recounting also.

And Dean's point is, that it's not gonna happen anytime soon.

And Cas's point – assuming he’s still remotely capable of making those – seems to be dead-set on that 50:50 face thing. And Dean regrets briefly glancing; with more or less the same intensity he regrets his whole life on the crap weather days his bones hurt harder than it should be legal.

Sam, in his hemhorroidal disturbance, reaches out to the tape deck and attempts to put anything on, but Dean feels like exactly zero of his tapes right now, so he swats Sam's hand off with a loud smack. Judging from the faces he gets for that, it's gotta be resonating in their heads a lot.

It's gonna be a long ride to Lousiana, way longer and more exhausting than the freshly puked from Purgatory one. In fact, the closer they get to Lafayette, the more tired he is and they won't start working the vetalas case until tomorrow night because apparently hanging around clubs on fridays is the new hanging downside of trees or whatever cool thing it was vetalas were doing before the rise of the all you can eat buffet of horny dicks certain they're gonna get reverse cowgirls for a two dollar drink. Or reverse cowboys. Fucking cheapskates. Some of them do have it coming. But in severe STDs, not in this.

In itself, waiting for the actual hunt really doesn't need to be a problem. It's just that Sam and Cas are fucked-bent on having it be one because—

“I said I'm going to stay with you and join you on hunts,” Cas finally snaps. „There's no need for this 'backup' as you call it, Dean.”

—Because that.

“Don't air quote it, man,” Dean mutters wearily, because of course Cas air quoted it.

“And there is absolutely no need for you to sleep in a vampire's camping truck when we have plenty of motels to pick from,” Cas rants on, zero deterred and plus ten determined, clearly not tuning into Dean's I don't wanna discuss that vibe.

Annnd because that too, yeah.

“Well I donno, I sure didn't want us to look like some sort of a hookup site for salvation army fashionistas threesome. You'll thank me later. Or you can do it now and shut up when you're done, how's that.”

“A vampire,” Sam interrupts his polished bitchface just to whine it out, which has to be peak brotherly care by his modern standards.

“You two asshats had no problem leaving me in vamp-vegas for a goddamn year,” Dean growls. “I am an adult adult and I need some me-time that isn't you time. And I'm gonna have awesome time while I'm at it. Sue me if that's a crime. Bother my lawyer.”

“You don’t have a lawyer”, says Sam.

“Aren’t you kind of a lawyer?” Dean remembers suddenly. “Or at least close enough for you two to bother each other and not me?”

“No, didn’t get to get there yet, thanks to you,” Sam mutters, also suddenly remembering the past life of his that was never meant to be.

“Oh, I’m sorry”, Dean whines. “Did I set your girlfriend on fire?”

“Fuck off.”

“I thought you missed me,” as if triggered by the word fuck, Cas drops the bomb with an evenness in his voice which hints at many things but Dean's brain is too stop-record screech to dissect them right now.

“What?” he blurts out, confused and affronted both.

“I thought you missed me,” Cas repeats, lower and harder like Dean's a stupid cat that won't spit out what it's chewing.

“Cas, I really don't wanna do this.”

“You kept praying to me to come back, Dean. After you were out of Purgatory. I heard you. Those were quite some prayers. Now you're putting yourself in real danger just to stay away from me. I don’t understand.”

Sam just stares at Dean, the always most helpful thing on the planet that he is. Thanks, Sam. Dean stares at the road. Cas stares daggers through the back of Dean's head. Poor Baby can't just leave this situation so she just keeps on rollin’. Nobody wins that day.

“That was before you told me you were lying your ass off just to kick me out last minute. Your subscription for my prayers and personal Jesus license have now expired, by the way. Like, the fuck does talking to you even do?”

“Fine!” Castiel snaps, so close to throwing his hands in the air for a grand effect but luckily thinking better of it since he's in a car that has a roof among other things. “I understand that you're angry—” he tries to start over, calmer, after a self-collecting breath.

“No, you don't,” Dean mutters.

“But you can't risk your life in the stupidest available way just to get back at me, Dean. Not after everything I've done to make sure you come back safe.”

Well at least he didn't include Sam in that „saving” part.

“You were there, man. You know Benny never double crossed me or you. What the exact fuck is your problem with him?”

A very angry squint-frown precedes the actual answer.

“You were his ticket to Earth. Now your life doesn't hold the same value.”

“Thanks, Cas. That's really swee—”

“You know that's not what I meant, Dean,” Cas growls in a tone that's clearly a final warning.

So final even Sam and his high horse must have heard since he steps in to defuse Cas.

“Cas, I'm not a fan of saying it, but Benny isn't a threat to Dean. I think the guy is kinda trying to settle,” he offers.

Dean smiles a little bit.

“See, Cas?”

“But I'm worried he might have more vamps trying to take him down because he pissed off every fang that ever knew him and then some. This is actual danger, Dean.”

“What?!” Castiel explodes in unbridled rage.

“Sam, have you ever wondered where do snitches go after they die?”

“Dean, you know I'm serious.”

“Ditches,” Dean concludes.

“When exactly were you going to tell me this?” Castiel asks coldly. “After you get killed by vampire avengers?”

“They're all taken care of, Cas. No mean jokes this time. Relax.”

“With your Winchester luck? I doubt it.”

“Oh, come on. It's not like you wouldn't bring me back even if something did happen.”

“Yes, even twice because first I would have personally destroyed you for being so reckless.”

“I know you would.”

“Guys,” Sam tries to placate, “we should all calm down and rethink how to handle it safely. It's not a good time for some jilted lovers tiff”, he begs.

Dean frowns then makes mocking faces at him to communicate that he's being a fucking douche.

“You're a fucking jilted lovers tiff,” he decides.

“We had sex, Dean,” Castiel states accusatorily.

Little does he know, he just broke Sam beyond repair. Now that the cat is out of the bag, the only thing Dean can do is to straighten some things out.

“Once,” he says, raising a finger to accentuate his point. “Cas was sure we were gonna die in the morning. We didn't, but there never was a follow up on that, so,” Dean shrugs.

“You weren't interested.”

“Says you,” Dean huffs. “I’m sorry, do you know me? Being interested in sex is in my top five pasttimes. You behaved like a brick on the other hand and I don’t know how to read concrete.”

“I don’t want to be here, good fucking God,” Sam finally yelps after a successful reboot of his brain.

Dean’s pretty sure nobody wants to be in this car right now and the only goddamn thing that could potentially make him ‘special’ right now is the fact currently Sam’s probably the only person in the Impala who has not lain his mouth on Cas’s dick. Hopefully.

Funnily enough, Cas could easily poof out without lethal injuries, but he’s dead set on staying, judging from the frown on his face that looks like a stock market crash diagram.

“I didn’t exactly see you giving me any signs.”

And set on having this conversation.

“I’m not a cat, I don’t go into heats, Cas. Can we talk about it somewhere more private? Later? Cuz everybody here wants to fucking die right now.”

“Private?” Cas asks. “If you want privacy to talk then why do you refuse to book a room with me?”

“We don’t need to share a room to have a conversation. Unless what you want it to end with is getting back on track with that last night on Earth thing we had that one time.”

“Jesus Christ,” Sam cries.

“Grow up and stow your crap, Sam,” Cas says unexpectedly before Dean could even bother to serve anything in a similar note.

Dean is so thrown off his equilibrium by that he puts the car to an abrupt halt. Only because he’s too deeply wired to not crash the Impala into the first available so he won’t accidentally kill Sam.

That is, if Cas’s words haven’t obliterated him already. He glances at him, just in case. Speechless as holily commanded by the celestial – potentially horny – wrath from the back seat, but at least he’s still breathing.

“Um,” he says, because someone’s gotta, because he’s still the big brother in this demented equation. “Cas, what the fuck was that?”

“Should you, of all people, really need me to be this blunt – now that the worst affairs have been settled, we could pick up where we left off, and hopefully reach a mutual understanding regarding the nature of our relationship so that doubt no longer hinders you. If it’s still something that interests you, of course. Would that be clear and direct enough, Dean?”

Well, that was… long? Long enough citations are probably needed, but, uh, yeah. S’ gotta be addressed immediately or else.

“Cas, that was 2010 and we have 2012 now.”

“It was 2012 when you prayed to me in Purgatory and it was 2012 four days ago. Granted, your feelings towards me might be very complicated, but I still can sense and read your longing,” Cas says with a weary sigh.

“Stop smelling my longing,” Dean responds with a wearier one. “And I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“But I should explain myself to you.”

“I’m real fed up with your explanations, you know that? And we don’t got time for that, either. We need to get to Lafayette because we got a case waiting to get solved.”

“It’s because he’s waiting there for you, isn’t it,” Cas says sadly; not a question. A statement.

Dean doesn’t need to respond. Doesn’t feel like it, too.

Yeah. It’s good to actually have someone waiting for you; someone there.

Maybe it’s not that complicated, after all. Maybe it doesn’t have to be.

Dean starts the car. He’s got a place to go to.

The sound apparently wakes Sam from his stupor. His bright idea of the day, he turns the radio on before the awkward silence can make the universe inside of the Impala collapse on itself and on all three of them. Too late for Dean to react now; might as well get a load of the weather report.

In the back seat, Cas flicks his wrist subtly and the monotone voice sharply cuts off into static for a moment and the frequency bar moves elsewhere on its’ – or rather, Cas’s – own. Some solitary synthesiser-made sounds drop one after another like tiny steps and Dean realizes he definitely has heard this song before at some point in his life as eighties one hit wonders ain’t no strangers to him. Oh well. Might as well not get any of the wea—

Looking from a window above, it’s like a story of love… Can you hear me?

Is he fucking kidding?!

Came back only yesterday, I’m moving farther away.... Want you near me…

“Are you fucking kidding?” Dean cries out, incredulous.

Tries to turn the radio off but it just won’t die.

All I needed was the love you gave— “You want melodramatic? I’ll give you melodramatic.” —All I needed for another day — Dean reaches out for his phone and starts typing angrily — and all I ever knew, only you.

He puts on good ol’ Fish and hopes it’s gonna be louder than Cas’s synth-pop loving. And starts driving towards where he wants to be cause he’s tired of dancing.

21 notes · View notes

wintaejk · 4 years

Text

Jungkook’s FIC REC | OS 2

I had too many links on the other post. Here is the second part of my Jungkook’s fic rec but with others themes.

Again, all those fictions belong to the amazing authors who wrote them, not me. I want to thank them once more.

(f) = fluff

(a) = angst

(m) = mature

magical au

— Trick or Treat: Howling for You (F) (M) — by @fortunexkookie

The way your Little Red Riding Hood costume lured over a fuckboy in a half-assed werewolf costume was a little cliche, but god damn was he beautiful. He promised he had plenty of big things to show you, and you took him up on the offer, not realizing that you might’ve bitten off more than you could chew.

werewolf au | established relationship | +14k

— rottenfolk (M) — by @junqkook

a look was as hazardous as chemicals, a kiss as perilous as poison; his eyes and lips felt akin to a cure, but he was purely venom.

faerie au | royalty au | +13k

Commentary - If there’s only one one-shot I could recommend you to read of all tumblr, it would probably be this one. For me, it is rare to acheive such a level of mastery in fantasy fictions. Writing is already complicated, but when you have to place the readers in an unknown universe, it is even harder. However, the real brilliance of this story is the end. Because the end is supposed to satiate the reader in a way or another, it is supposed to offer what all the reader craved: a sort of closure. But here we all are, waiting for a sequel, because this story will make you want a next episode. And that is the brilliance, because you will surely never forget a story with that kind of power. So those are some of the reasons why this fiction is for me a mix of art, smartness and excellence ; and also why you would be missing something huge by not reading it.

— overdrive (M) — by @junqkook

you thought meeting jungkook was just a coincidence, but the universe didn’t deal in coincidences.

vampire au | soulmate au | enemies to lovers | +13k

— Crescent Bound - Jungkook (F) (M) — by @parkhabits

A pact bound by the moon. A secret kept only amongst themselves. Each of them experiencing their own cycles of heat.

werewolf au | friends to lovers | +12k

— Room 109 (M) — by @lavishedinjimin

Having Jungkook as your apartment buddy was a lot to get used to. But with one early day, your heat comes up much stronger than usual, and you were desperate for an alpha’s touch.

werewolf au | roommate au | alpha!jungkook | +6k

— after dark (M) — by @seokoloqy

Jungkook has served the royal family for generations, seen them live and die countless times. When it comes to you, he can’t watch you wither away too, but your lust for one another makes it harder and harder to stay apart.

vampire au | royalty au | knight!jungkook | +8k

— Life’s Blood (F) (A) (M) — by @littlenoona

You produce blood cells at an increased rate when blood is lost, effectively, you cannot bleed out. This ability has served you well so far, even gaining you a rare friend, and you’ve made it your source of income, but it also has its downsides, one of which you’ve managed to avoid successfully, until now.

vampire au | +13k

— you come in waves (A) (M) — by @angelguk

if jeongguk had a choice, he would destroy the sun. it’s not like he needed it for warmth due to his werewolf abilities making him a scorching radiator. it would also help his heart. because you look delectable in that stupid bikini.

werewolf au | friends to lovers au | 4k

— tell me your secrets (i’m all ears) (F) — by @jinpire

You’re not afraid of Jeon Jeongguk. Even if he’s probably some kind of bear or giant cat shifter, and just a hint of his irritation had your instincts vibrating beneath your skin like a live wire. Your thumb brushed over the plastic dome of mini-Levi’s head, taking comfort in the cartoon scowl and dead eyes, the tiny grey sticks of his 3DM gear. Small could be pretty fucking powerful too.

shifter au | college au | bunny!kook | +6k

drabbles: nooks and naps - foxie moxie (don’t pull my tail) - look before you leap - fluffles and kerfuffles

— Pomegranate Seeds (M) — by @taetaebaepsae

Jungkook thinks he’s found the perfect new roommate, but little doesn’t he know you’re just aching to corrupt him.

demon au | roommate au | virgin!jungkook | +4k

other themes

— Every Kind of Way (F) (M) — by @taehyungforreal

{Three little vignettes, three completely different experiences, same perfectly wonderful boyfriend JK.}

strangers to lovers | established relationship | +14k

Commentary - I remember when this fiction was posted. I read the teaser a few days before, and I was waiting for it. I remember the exact date of the release of this story, and let me tell you it never happens to me. But this is how much I liked this story. This masterpiece. This fiction is 95% made of smut. This is a warning if you don’t like that. However, what I like about Ashley’s works is that smut is not only smut (okay, sometimes it’s just pure filth but whatever). It’s not the first time I’ve read a piece of work of her and that I’ve been so thankful of reading her. Because the stories she writes are realistic. Sex is not always perfect. Sex is not always like in porn. Sex can be embarrassing. And this is why I love what Ashley writes, because she always have that realistic point of view on life. And sometimes it’s also nice to not turn everything into porn. What is very likeable - I said likeable? I meant loveable, sorry - about that story is also the three different stages of the relation of Jk and reader. This is also something I like about her writings. Life evolves, relationships evolve, and so does sex. So in this story, you will experience three different Jungkook. And it’s three reasons why you should read this fiction, three reasons why you will probably love it. One thing is sure, this chef-d’oeuvre will leave you wondering if your eyes have been burnt by the smuttiness or blessed by all the talent of this writer.

— tattooed two (ft. kth) (F) (M) — by @httpjeon

your boyfriend’s best friend joins you for a night you’ll never forget.

tattoo artist au | established relationship | poly au | +8k

— Inkling (A) (M) — by @gguksgalaxy

Jungkook is your brother’s boyfriend’s co-worker, they own a tattoo and piercing parlour. In other words, he’s tall, gorgeous, has his passion literally etched into his skin, looks incredibly good in a man-bun, and is semi-unattainable for you. Why? Well…you’re not entirely sure but him ditching right after a very heated make-out session sure isn’t a good sign. His extremely poor mood the next week sure isn’t either, but the only way to fix it is to face the beast head-on. Right?

tattoo artist au | +17k

— Freak-quency (M) — by @taehyungforreal

His eyes sparkle and he fights back a smile when he asks you why. “Is it because I didn’t give you something else to swallow like I said I would,” he questions, halfway through a much less subtle adjustment of his growing erection. Yoongi was right, he wants to be in trouble.

rockstar au | established relationship | +8k

— Boots (M) —

3000+ words of Ashley kinking on Jungkook’s boot. That’s it.

rockstar au | established relationship | part of Freak-quency | +3k

— Heartbreaker with a Heart of Gold (A) (M) — by @filmflowersbangtan

It was around this time almost three years ago when Jungkook moved to LA after his band got signed to a famous record label. He told you that he’d keep in contact with you. That he’d visit as much as he could. That he loved you. But about a month after leaving, he stopped texting and calling as much. And then a mere week after the band’s first EP dropped, Burning Rabbit was a sensation.

rocksatr au | ex lovers | +3k

— Brother’s best friend (M) — by @lavishedinjimin

In which Y/n owns a smut blog dedicated to her crush and brother’s best friend, jungkook. it was all fun and games until he finds out about it and acts it out with you.

brother’s best friend!jungkook | +5k

— Sugarplum Elegy (F) (A) (M) — by @bymoonchild

You know no bounds nor depth with Jungkook. While your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on Soundcloud. All’s fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while.

friends with benefits | college au | idiots to lovers | +17k

— The Kids Aren’t Alright (F) (A) (M) — by @sketchguk

Sneaking around with Jeongguk during your Christian retreat is complicated when you’re both dedicated to your jobs as co-youth group counselors at your father’s ministry.

friends with benefits | pastor’s kid!reader | +10k

— Gym (F) (M) — by @hobiwonder

Jungkook has a crush on you and has been watching you work out at his gym. One day you finally confront his obvious crush.

business woman!reader | fratboy!jungkook | older reader | +8k

— Gravity Check (M) — by @gimmesumsuga

The one where Jungkook is your oh-so-handsome climbing instructor.

climbing instructors!jungkook | strangers to lovers | 14k

— The Monogamy Monologues (F) (M) — by @kpopfanfictrash

The year? Some point after college. The occasion? Namjoon is getting married and the Rich Man’s Crochet Club has convened once again. Somewhere between the drinks and the laughter, everyone has the same realization: Jungkook has never been in a serious relationship. In the name of all that is holy (Overwatch and booze), the club’s mission is revived. Now though, their goal is much more perilous. Now, they aim to find Jeon Jungkook a girlfriend. (Part of The Rich Man’s Crochet Club series)

fuckboy!jungkook | wedding planner!reader | strangers to lovers | +42k

— The Virgin Volume (F) (A) (M) —

This fic exists in the RMCC universe. It takes place before RMCC and is the story of how Jungkook lost his virginity. To quote Seokjin/Namjoon: “What Jungkook doesn’t know won’t hurt him and – let’s be honest – his story is hilarious. One pump,” Seokjin laughs, sounding like a hyena. “One pump and he’s done.” // Ducking his head, Namjoon tries not to smile. “It was a rookie mistake,” he protests, defending their friend. “Jungkook was overexcited and couldn’t control himself. He got better.”

college au | friends to lovers | prequel to TMM | +6k

— everlasting (A — by @kimvvantae

being able to love the same person forever is a blessing given from the heavens. to you, however, eternity has become a curse.

reincarnation au | 18k

— Performances (M) — by @littlenoona

The same handsome guy has been appearing at your performances and you become more and more interested in who he is - now you’re dancing only for him, despite a hall full of people.

strangers to lovers | professional dancer!reader | +6k

— Matching Hearts (F) (A) — by @gukwluv

a drunk call to your ex boyfriend leads to a night of fun adventures that make you wonder why you even split in the first place.

exes au | +3k

— locker room talk (M) — by @minnpd

You end up having a rather heated talk with Jeon Jungkook in the locker room when he announces he has been chosen for the audition you both participated to.

dancer au | enemies to lovers | fuckboy!jungkook | +5k

— not quite lovers (M) — by @junqkook

hiring jeon jungkook as your personal assistant happens to have more than one perk.

workplace au | friends with benefits | ceo!reader | +15k

— By Its Cover (M) — by @gimmesumsuga

The one where Jungkook makes a very bad first impression.

workplace au | enemies to lovers | 21k

— Mind in the Gutter (F) (M) — by @kpopfanfictrash

Starting over is never fun. Especially not when you decide to take the phrase fully to heart; new job, new city, new coworkers and new relationships. When you are dragged to a happy hour by your new co-worker, Taehyung, you end up sitting beside a (very) cute, (very) shy IT worker named Jungkook. Several drinks later, he mentions he is in a professional bowling league with his friends and you rather enthusiastically invite yourself along. As time passes and you begin to grow closer, you still find it impossible to read Jungkook. Working in the same company and seeing each other so often, it is only so long before one of you snaps. But who?

workplace au | bowling au | strangers to friends to lovers | +18k

#fic rec #jungkook fic rec #bts fic rec #jeon jungkook

87 notes · View notes

cinnaminsvga · 5 years

Text

Wish on a Fish | Namjoon

→ summary: namjoon’s got fish-shaped pastries on the brain, and you’ve got namjoon-shaped space in your heart. you both learn to make do. → genre: fluff, humor → words: 3.9K → a/n: i had this in my wips since october 2018 and i decided to finish it because it’s loving namjoon hours (but when is it not?) also this was inspired by this galaxy brain quote from the man himself: “ain’t no fish inside”

“Y/N has a crush on you.”

The owner of the voice giggles when Namjoon lifts his head up in confusion, a sticky note with various mathematical equations hanging precariously from his forehead. An unflattering doodle of what appears to be a worm with Yoongi’s face has imprinted itself like a makeshift tattoo from where his cheek had rested upon his notebook. None of that information explains what year he has woken up in, what dimensions he has slipped into, nor why Hoseok has decided to tell him this very unlikely factoid when he was clearly busy with his guilt nap.

[guilt nap (n.) when Namjoon has kept his eyes open for an extended amount of time, to the point where colors start making noise and numbers start looking like letters, so he sleeps in various public places to reboot his brain; hardly ever works but he still tries.]

“Whuzzat?” Namjoon asks, verbose. The sticky note is on its last dredges of stickiness, and Hoseok watches it flop down from its perch and into his friend’s agape mouth. Hoseok plucks it away kindly, but Namjoon doesn’t even seem to have noticed its disappearance.

“You look like shit,” Hoseok replies instead, pulling a chair beside Namjoon and carefully pushing aside what appears to be a glass of curdled milk. Hoseok’s nose crinkles in disgust. “Dude. Was this the milk tea from free Boba Tuesday?”

“Yeah?” Namjoon blinks owlishly. It appears that his brain hasn’t fully awakened yet, because he goes to grab the cup and bring it to his lips when Hoseok saves him by plucking the offending object out of his hands too.

“Namjoon. Free Boba Tuesday was three days ago. It’s Friday evening. This is three-day-old milk tea.”

“No way. You’re kidding,” Namjoon says, peering into the cup and making a startled face at the solidified mass. He jiggles it in wonder, beholding in its jelliness. “Wow. Do you think I could donate this to the bio labs? I heard they were looking for more e. coli samples.”

“Why the fuck would this have e. coli in it? Unless you took a shit in—“ Hoseok begins, but clamps his mouth shut when it looks like Namjoon is about to defend himself. He backtracks, “You know what? I don’t want to know.”

“Why are you here again?” Namjoon grumbles, trying to salvage his crumpled notes by smoothing them with his hands. He rips one of them in half, and he gazes at the mess with the eyes of a defeated man. He sighs. “Look, I’m really busy right now. I don’t have time to get roasted AND study for finals at the same time. You’re gonna have to schedule an appointment with me.”

“As much as I enjoy making fun of your poor hygiene and self-care skills, I have a reason for being here. Like I just said, I came here to tell you that Y/N has a crush on you,” Hoseok repeats, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Heard her talking about you in the labs this morning.”

Namjoon stares at him. Hoseok watches in worry as his friend’s irises start to become unfocused slightly.

“Dude,” Hoseok says, waving a hand in front of him. “Did you hear what I said?” Namjoon thankfully blinks back.

“Yeah. Okay, thanks.” Namjoon finally says, before grabbing his notebook to see where he left off. He doesn’t notice that his notes are upside down when he begins to write gibberish that must only make sense to him. Hoseok thinks he can see the word ‘churros’ somewhere in there, but he isn’t 100% certain.

Namjoon continues, “Do you think the cafeteria is still open at this hour? I don’t think I’ve drunk water in two days.”

“Okay, thanks? That’s all you have to say to my jawdropping discovery?” Hoseok exclaims, pinching Namjoon’s cheek. The Yoongi doodle on his cheek smudges from his fingers, making him appear even wormier than before. “Y/N is in your Chemistry class, right? The one with the serial killer professor?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon hums, scratching out the word ‘churro’ and replacing it with ‘grilled cheese’ instead. The amount of concentration on his face is disconcerting, to say the least. It looks like he’s writing down a grocery list beside his calculus homework. “Professor Kang isn’t a serial killer, by the way. He’s just stressed.”

Hoseok gives his friend a once-over, disbelieving. “Yeah, I can see why you’d defend him. Takes one to know one,” he snorts, grimacing at the pit stains lining his friend’s gray shirt. “Honestly, Y/N must be a serial killer herself if she thinks you’re worth any sort of attraction. You smell like the market, dude.”

“Speaking of, do you know what I want from the market right now?” Namjoon drops his pen, leaving an unfinished doodle of another portrait of wormy Yoongi screaming in terror under the heat of a magnifying glass. Hoseok reminds himself to tell his hyung to lock his doors later that evening.

“Uhh… No?”

“Those silly fish cake things, with the red bean,” Namjoon murmurs, determination set in his jaw. He stands up suddenly, slamming his notebooks closed and stuffing them into his backpack. In his hurry, he knocks over the cup of curdled milk tea all over the library floor, and Hoseok half-expects it to start melting the carpet like acid. “It’s funny though, because why the hell would they shape them like that? Ain’t no fish inside… Why would they try to deceive us like that?”

“Dude, you okay?” Hoseok asks, slightly worried for his friend but not worried enough to feel bothered to stop him from potentially running into oncoming traffic.

“Need a snack. Be back,” Namjoon says, rushing out of the library in a speed uncanny for the long-legged man. Hoseok watches as he reaches the front entrance of the library exit, before he inadvertently stops in his tracks, and looks back at the still seated Hoseok.

Hoseok raises a brow. “You forgetting something?”

Namjoon opens his mouth. Closes it. Scrunches up his face like he’s just released a fart. Then, “Hey. I just rhymed. That’s cool,” he says in awe of himself, before finally making his way out of the library without waving goodbye.

Left behind to contemplate his friend choices, Hoseok heaves a heavy sigh, staring forlornly at the abandoned doodle of worm Yoongi. He shakes his head, defeated. “I tried, Y/N. I really did.”

——***——

Namjoon makes his way to the market, after a quick stop to his apartment for a change of clothes. He had only thought to change when a woman and her young daughter had taken one sniff from his general direction and ran quickly into a nearby shop to avoid his cloying stench. He at least had the decency to give the duo a sheepish look before scuttling off to his apartment in embarrassment.

Now slightly better smelling but not any less sleep-deprived, Namjoon enters the nearby open market with an agenda. He passes numerous food stalls, almost being tempted by the loud aunties to buy every single food product that he can fit into his ink-stained hands. He can’t afford to settle for any other sugary product, not when he already has his eye on the main prize.

His torment does not last long because over in the corner of the street where a long line has formed, he sees the sign for freshly cooked bungeoppang.

He hurries over, almost tripping over his own feet when he makes it to the end of the line. For whatever reason, the entirety of Seoul has also decided that they’d also like to eat some bungeoppang today as the line was over 30 people long. Namjoon glances at his watch, seeing that he only has 5 hours left until his next final and he desperately needs to finish revising the last chapter of his notes.

He sees the stall for hotteok close by where the line is significantly shorter. He’s partially debating on switching lanes and settling for his second favorite treat when he sees a familiar head of hair standing by the bungeoppang stall, seemingly debating the same thing as himself.

It’s you.

“Damn, what a line…” Namjoon hears you say to yourself, gazing longingly at the piping hot red bean goodness. Shaking your head, you sigh deeply, ready to leave bungeoppang-less. You’re just about to walk out of sight from Namjoon when he finally thinks to call out to you in greeting.

“Y/N! Over here!” He calls out, and he wonders if you’ll hear him over the sound of the crowd. Surprisingly, you turn around swiftly at the sound of his voice, able to pinpoint his hoarse voice anytime and anywhere. Your cheeks darken when you see him, apparently blind to the fact that he did not look the least bit decent with his dark eyebags and the telltale sign of dried drool on the side of his cheek. To you, he’ll always look gorgeous, even underneath the dingy fluorescent lights of the night market.

“Namjoon? What a coincidence to see you here!” You greet back, walking towards him with a skip in your step. To the chagrin of the five other people behind Namjoon, you insert yourself beside him and into the line for the bungeoppang. Namjoon doesn’t seem to mind, but that could also be the fact that his brain was running on 2 hours of sleep and three cans of energy drinks, but who can say?

“Same here. Are you here for a pre-exam snack too?”

“Sorta,” you hum, smiling. “I was about to ditch this place for the kimbap place near the Arts building because of this line, but then I saw you here so I guess I’ll brave the wait time with you.”

“Oh, sorry to interrupt you from your plans, then.” Namjoon sounds genuinely remorseful, and you have to force yourself not to coo at his crestfallen face. “I just wanted to say hello, you know?”

“It’s no problem, really. I really did have a craving for some bungeoppang, so it’s not like I’m losing anything. Besides, I miss talking to you, so it’s no big deal,” you say the last part quietly, eyes turning downwards in embarrassment. “It’s just… I haven’t seen you in so long.”

However, you’re not really embarrassed––not quite. It is well known around your circle of friends that you have a massive crush on the Biochemistry major, much to the confusion of everyone who knows you. Not to say that Namjoon was terrible, but when you stop to think about how… out of it he was, it’s kind of hard to imagine why you would want to pursue a relationship with him. Dozens of people have already tried their hand at confessing to him, but to no avail. The dude is as dense as a rock, and perhaps that is part of the appeal to you. You always have been a bit of a morosexual.

Besides, you have an advantage: you’re blinded by a misplaced determination for all things Kim Namjoon. In your eyes, all it takes is a few psychological tricks to get his head out of his ass, and you are set for life. If treating Namjoon like a psychology experiment seems unethical to others, well. Let’s just see who is crying when you eventually snatch his heart and win his hand.

If Hoseok had promised his end of the deal, you know that he’s planted the seed in Namjoon already. Assuming things are going according to plan, then Hoseok should have told him about your not-so-secret crush on him, so Namjoon should be aware of your attraction to him. At a glance, Namjoon doesn’t seem to be treating you any differently, but that could just be his way of being polite. Or, you know. He could also be an idiot. Passing him at the market only means another opportunity for you to butter him up and make him yours.

“I miss talking to you too,” Namjoon replies, dimples showing from how hard he’s smiling. You feel your heart jump up to your throat and fall back down to your ass.

“Really? Could’ve sworn that you’ve been avoiding me. Haven’t seen you in two weeks!” you say accusingly, both as a joke but also for real. The hurt is probably evident on your face, even to the likes of Namjoon.

He pouts ruefully at you. “Aw, you know I don’t mean to. I have six finals this term, and I’m terribly behind because of all the extra-curriculars I’ve had to take. You know I could never avoid you on purpose,” he says, brows furrowed in concern. If that isn’t enough, he pulls the rug from under you by brushing a stray strand of hair away from your eyes and tucks it gently behind your ear.

Unbeknownst to the lanky brunette, his words and actions have caused you to start combusting on the inside with unbridled endearment. How the actual fuck could he say that shit with a straight face? And to your weak and fragile heart? Right in front of your bungeoppang? The nerve of this guy! There’s no way that your feelings aren’t unreciprocated––your plan must have worked!

You take a shaky breath, gathering your thoughts. As much as his words seem like an indication of his feelings, you have to make sure. You didn’t survive all these years as one of your university’s top student researchers without knowing the importance of testing your hypothesis. You need to run some tests first before coming to a conclusion.

“Speaking of avoiding friends… I haven’t seen Hoseok in a while. I miss hanging out with him and Yoongi,” you say as nonchalantly as you can, observing Namjoon from the corner of your eye. Namjoon nods in agreement, stepping forward as the line begins to shorten bit by bit. You can almost see the vendor flipping the cakes in their flat iron griddles from where you stand.

“Me too. I saw Hoseok just a few minutes ago before I left to go here. Haven’t seen Yoongi since that party at Seokjin’s, but that’s about it.”

“Oh? You just saw Hoseok? Did he say anything… in particular?” you ask. You feel sweat beginning to build along your palms, and you have to grasp the ends of your sweater to keep yourself from fidgeting. You wait with bated breath as the boy thinks of a response.

“Yeah actually. He mentioned something about you too––wait, hold that thought,” Namjoon stops himself, and you only realize then that you’ve arrived at the front of the line. He turns to you expectantly. “You wanna order first?”

“Huh?” You stare at him dumbfoundedly, your brain fighting to catch up with your surroundings. It isn’t until you hear the irritated sounds of the impatient customers behind you that you manage to snap out of your trance. “Oh. Right. Yeah, I just want one original flavor please.”

“I’ll have three,” Namjoon says, and neither you nor the vendor says anything about the amount he has ordered. Who was anyone to judge him and his fondness for fish-shaped pastries?

Just as you are about to hand over your own payment to the saleslady, Namjoon shoves a bill over yours, nudging your hands away. You squawk indignantly, your protests bubbling underneath your tongue before he gives you a firm look.

“No buts. I’m paying this time as an apology for ignoring you over school,” he says, grinning. You hear the vendor giggle at the two of you, remarking how cute the two of you are. “Thanks,” Namjoon replies, leaving the change for the auntie as a tip. The flush enveloping your face refuses to die, even as the two of you exit the market together.

“You really didn’t have to pay for me,” you mutter, nibbling the treat and letting the warmth envelope you in the cold weather. When you glance at him, you see Namjoon take a huge bite of his first fish cake, cheeks bulging in what most might have found unattractive. You, on the other hand, have to keep yourself from swooning in delight.

“Of course I did,” Namjoon says, or at least, he tries to. He speaks with his mouth full, but luckily you’ve lived with rambunctious males all your life and have learned the fine art of deciphering words even with chunks of food in the way. He successfully swallows the pastry down thickly, and you have to stop yourself from ogling his throat for too long. “You’re my friend, and I care about all of my friends.”

At his innocent admission, your mood is shot down almost immediately, the icy feeling of disappointment running down your back. You’re just his friend, your brain echoes unhelpfully. Your excitement a while ago had been premature––he had only said those sweet words as a friend. At that realization, you drop your gaze down to the pavement, unwilling to show him your sorrow.

Namjoon slows in his walk, noticing your sulking almost immediately. “Hey, you alright?” he asks, patting your back as the two of you stop at a crosswalk. You force yourself not to flinch at his touch.

“Um. I’m fine. Sorry, I just started thinking about the final I have tomorrow,” you lie, keeping your voice steady. The fact that your plan had failed before it even had the chance to begin makes you wonder why you had even thought you would be able to get Namjoon to like you back in the first place. What is the point, when others have tried before you and have failed miserably? What makes you special?

It’s hard to let go though, not with how gentle and kind his touch is as he smooths his hand over your shoulders, rubbing gently. It’s hard to not fall in love with this gigantic dork, with his wire-framed glasses and his ill-fitting flannel shirt. Hell, even the stupid doodle of Yoongi as a worm on his cheek is cute as fuck. Everything about this stupidly endearing genius makes you want to try and try again, even if failure is just around the corner.

Maybe the biggest idiot at the end of the day is yourself. Love really does make all of us stupid, and you are just another victim of one of Cupid’s arrows. That bow-wielding diaper-wearing man can kiss your ass, you surmise.

“Finals suck, but I know you can do it,” Namjoon says with painfully genuine confidence. You ignore the way your heart seizes, biting the head of your fish cake with much more force than necessary.

The two of you cross the street in silence, your forearms touching occasionally as you get closer to the library. You know that Namjoon is probably going to head back there, so you’re about to say your goodbyes and run to your dorm and sing along to some sad Adele songs when Namjoon’s voice stops you once more.

“Hey. I forgot to say a while ago, but I was just about to tell you about Hoseok before we got our bungeoppang,” he says.

You freeze immediately. In those crummy k-dramas, this is always where the girl gets her heartbroken, you realize. Under the streetlamps of a cool spring evening, with no one else in sight. Just you, him, and the remains of your dignity all over the floor.

You brace yourself for the inevitable rejection that you are sure that will follow. You grit your teeth, already rehearsing the jokes you’ll have to say to numb the incoming pain. You’ll have to pretend that everything Hoseok said was just a stupid rumor, that there is no way that you could ever have a crush on him. The both of you will laugh, with him unaware of the way your heart has begun to crumble into tiny pieces with every huff of air you inhale in his presence. You ready yourself, and you tell yourself that you’ll get over it.

But the rejection doesn’t come. Instead, you’re hit by a freight train.

Namjoon is totally serious when he says, “Hoseok told me it was Friday today and that Free Boba Tuesday was three days ago, but I checked my watch and it says it’s February 20, which is a Wednesday. Do you think he was messing with me?”

You gawk at him. You clear your throat. “I-I’m sorry, but what?”

“I’m not crazy, right?” Namjoon pulls out his phone, showing you the home screen where it clearly says the supposed date today. He points at it, finger trembling with an inordinate amount of vigor. “Am I blind? That says February 20!”

Your heart, which once was ready to burst, slowly reassembles itself with frightening speed when you finish processing his words. No, it is not because you have been reinvigorated with the hope of possibly having your attraction reciprocated, but rather, because you can’t believe you have ever decided to give your heart away to a man who didn’t even know that today was, in fact, April 5. Oh my god.

There is absolutely no need to fear that Namjoon might be swept away by someone else, because only you would be dumb enough to have a crush on someone so absolutely, mind-bendingly, idiotic as him.

“Namjoon?”

“Yeah?” he looks at quizzically, neck tinted a soft pink from the cold. The soft glow of the streetlamps gives him a soft halo as he proceeds to stuff his mouth with a large bite of bungeoppang. He smiles through the fullness of his cheeks, dimples ever-present and endearing as they always have been.

Your mouth opens, then closes. Your resolve to confess to him has long since dissipated, but your adoration for him does not waver in the slightest. All you feel is fatigue and a dire need to snuggle into your warmest blankets and dream about fish pastries and a lanky, bespectacled man. Pursuing Namjoon can wait another day, maybe when both of you are a bit more lucid and free from all your pressing assessments. For now…

“Namjoon, I want you to go home and take some rest, okay? If I hear from Hoseok or anyone that you’re still cooped up in that library, I’ll ban you from bungeoppang for the rest of the semester, is that clear?” Your voice is authoritative, but the tenderness in the way you caress his cheek gives you away. Namjoon swallows his bite, blinking owlishly at your sudden display of gentleness.

“O...okay?”

“Good,” you nod firmly, patting his cheek once more and swiping away some stray red bean on his lips. Your fingers burn where they touch him. You step away from him, heading towards the opposite direction. “See you soon, Joon?”

“Y-yeah?” Namjoon stutters out, still at a loss from your odd behavior. “See you, Y/N.”

When you are nothing but a speck of blue amidst a sea of darkness, Namjoon brings a hand to where your fingers had brushed his lips, tapping against it thoughtfully as he stares after where you had been moments ago.

He smiles to himself, shaking his head. “Nice rhyme,” he chuckles, walking away from the library and towards his own apartment. Even with his mind still foggy with math equations and chemistry nomenclature, his heart still manages to do a flip at the thought of seeing you again soon.

Only two finals away.

#btsguild #networkbangtan #bangtanarmynet #bts scenarios #namjoon x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts #bts imagines #bts fluff #kim namjoon #namjoon scenarios #namjoon imagines #namjoon fluff #bangtan #bts fanfic

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cruecifymesixx · 5 years

Text

Love and Leather /part fifty/

Word Count: 14.7k

A/N: y’all, it took so long to update because the chapter is long as hell and I’m sorry if it’s too much reading but it’s a good one!!

Warnings: angst, language, Nikki’s mom, booze, some drug talk, smut

Taglist: @brideofdraculana , @xstarryeyes , @aryssav , @miserablecunt @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol , @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies, @fandomshit6000, @anntheboneless, @venus-calum, @justjodeye, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @are-we-real, @hi-my-name-is-riley, @extremesadnerding, @thatbandchick39, @awkwrdcait, @countrygirlswonderland, @baiabouk @awesomealmostdopestudent, @romanticvengeance , @tashy-bear, @krazykatkay456, @terror-triplet, @shouttatthedevill @beachystars, @rodriguez025, @kickstart-myheart-sixx, @s-outhie, @anxious-diabetic, @awkwardblackgirls, @rockersbox, @brooklyn-antiques, @shamelessobsessions, @jerseytaint, @lilytalebi, @criminalyetminimal, @motley-queen, @trapt-in-a-dream, @lunamadhatter99, @broke-n-bitchy, @thanks2pete, @slowandangry, @lovesick-heart0, @keepcalm-and-beyou, @miriampraez, @teenwolflover28, @lilyhw1, @swoopygorl, @motherloovebone, @random-internet-user-4471, @falcon-arrows, @talranocchia2001, @wheresmyvodkabitch, @waywardprincess666, @malibubarbievince, @iluvmesomemarvelndc, @zoenicoles, @vamprlestat, @supersoldierballerina, @primal-screamer @electradestiny, @marshbev, @n0-sh0rtage-0f-faults, @cruebaby, @ggorehorror, @valentines-in-london, @miss2001babe, @nassauartist @emmaelizabeth2014, @cmft-jr-winchester, @bokkie92, @notworthyofyou1120 @xrosegoldwolfx, @cranberribread, @lauravic, @mgkobsessed, @chaoticvybe, @kellysimagines @thoughtsoftheantagonist @marvelismylifffe, @missysixxter, @love-struck-aries, @lavendersoundbarrier, @i-want-to-shoot-myself, @unknownoblivion, @minxtruck, @idumpyourgrass

December 1989

I rubbed my eyes as I woke up, face buried in the dark blue pillow sheets. I turned over seeing Nikki was still sound asleep, his hair covered up the majority of his face as he snored a little bit. I laid back on my elbows when I heard the doorbell. I yawned, seeing the clock read eight in the morning. I heard the doorbell again. I sighed heavily before discarding the blankets and grabbing the shirt Nikki was wearing last night, slipping it over my shoulders before leaving the bedroom with Anarchy in tow.

I walked down the stairs, seeing two figures on the other side of the door through the glass. I rubbed my face, walking over to the door and opening it. My eyes widened when I saw my mom standing there with luggage and another woman with brown curls and a very dark shade of red on her lips.

“M-mom what? What are you doing here?” I stumbled over my words, confused as I stared at her, taking a quick glance at the other woman.

“You said you needed help planning Nikki’s birthday party, didn’t you? Vanity, this is Nikki’s mo-“ My mom replied before being cut off.

“Deanna Richards. I’m Nikki’s mother, he had called me a few days ago and suggested I come and help.” I stared at her before turning back to my mom.

I’m sorry? What?

“Mom, it’s only eight. And the party isn’t for a few more days. I...I just woke up and Nikki is still sleeping..” I said, combing my fingers through my hair.

“And you wanted it to be big right? So that’s gonna take a few days to plan and all the calls and picking things out, we have to figure it all out before hand.” I stared blankly at her as she continued. I moved to the side allowing mom to come in her suitcase in tow as Deanna followed in after her, a suitcase being held by her as well.

I was confused as I closed the door, “Good to see you honey.” Mom said as she pulled me a hug, I hugged her back as I saw Deanna looking around the house and at the picture frames hanging on the wall.

“Thank you for wanting to help me, I want to do a big party for him since he’s never really had one...plus he was always to strung out on his birthday..” I said, glancing over at Deanna as she sat down at the kitchen table.

I started brewing a pot of coffee, letting Anna out into the backyard before getting her a bowl of food ready. I turned back around to see both of our moms mingling. I felt uncomfortable, “I’m uh...I’m gonna go wake him up...maybe put on some pants...” I mumbled but they didn’t acknowledge me.

What the fuck is going on? Why is she here? Why didn’t Nikki tell me she would be coming to the house? I walked into our bedroom seeing him beginning to wake up already.

“Morning princess, surprised you’re up before me .” He said with a smile as he rubbed his face, stretching as he did so.

“And you’re making coffee? What’s the special occasion?” He jokes as he opened his arms up for me, signaling for me to come back to bed. I crawled into the bed and sat on his waist, “Sixx, we have a huge problem.”

He laughed, attempting to take off the shirt I was wearing, “Yeah, we’re gonna have a huge problem in just a few minutes.” He grumbled, giving me a kiss as he tried pulling me closer to him.

I pushed on his chest, “No, like an actual real life problem. My uh...my mom is here...and so is yours? Why didn’t you tell me you were communicating with her?” I asked him as he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at me.

“I-I’m just taking it slow with her. I was going to tell you eventually once I knew if something was going to happen. My therapist suggested I make a last ditch effort with mending things. It’s been mainly phone calls...up until yesterday when I picked her up from the airport...” He explained, running his fingers across my hand.

I shook my head, “So she just shows up here? And you don’t even give me a heads up? And on top of that, you tell her she can help with the party I’m planning for you? Baby, you can’t just leave me in the dark when it comes to your mom. I need to know these things so I don’t answer the front door half naked.” I voiced my concerns as he groaned.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just didn’t want to get my hopes up in case she flaked. I was going to tell you last night that she would be here today but you fell asleep and I didn’t want you upset before bed.” He replied, giving me a light smile as he kissed my hand.

I huffed before getting off his lap, “Just come downstairs when you’re ready.” I told him before leaving the bedroom.

“Oh yes, they’ve known each other for a very long time. The first time I met Nikki, he was hiding in her bedroom closet after sneaking into the house.” I heard mom explaining as I walked back into the kitchen seeing the two of them chatting over a cup of coffee.

“He actually uh...broke into the house..” I said quietly, sitting down next to them. Mom instantly glared at me, “Sorry?” I laughed a little bit, reaching down to put Anarchy as she sat next to me.

Deanna reached to pet her, but Anna began growling at her, “Hey, none of that. What’s that about?” I said, nudging her away from the table as Nikki came into the kitchen.

“Good morning Frankie.” I stared at Deanna with wide eyes as he stopped walking, “Nikki, I mean Nikki. I’m sorry, I’ll have to get used to that.”

“So Nikki, I have a lot of ideas for the party. Vanity mentioned the theme and I think it’s wonderful.” Mom stated as he looked over at me.

“Babe, I said I didn’t want a theme.” He groaned as I rolled my eyes, “You need a theme, it will be fun. Lighten up, Sixx.” He shook his head as he leaned against the counter, “What’s the theme?” He asked, forcing himself over to the table and sitting down next to me.

“I thought a carnival or circus theme would be fun. We could get a whole bunch of cool decorations and have fun little games maybe a live act, Mom already has a few ideas we’ll discuss later.” I explained as he nodded, wrapping his arm around the back of my chair as he kept looking in the direction of his mom.

“Well how about we ask him what he wants?” I glared at Deanna as she raised an eyebrow at me.

“Do whatever you want for me princess, I’ll just show up.” Nikki sided with me as I looked over at his mom, smiling.

“You’ll enjoy it Nikki, just let me and Vanity and your mother take care of it.” Mom pointed out as she patted his shoulder, “If you can excuse me, I’m going to put my stuff away and freshen up a bit.” Mom said as she got up, Nikki sending a confused look towards me.

“I told her she could stay at the house while she’s in town.” I explained as he gave me a stern look.

“I can still stay, right Nikki?” Deanna questioned as I gawked at her. Oh, hell no.

“Yeah, we have enough bedrooms that aren’t being used. There’s one right down the hallway, you can use that one.” Nikki explains, pointing his finger down the walk way.

“Great, thank you. I’m gonna take my stuff.” Deanna said, smiling at me as I forced one right back. We both waited until she was out of ear shot.

“What the hell are you thinking? You’re mom staying with us? c’mon doll. She’s gonna turn the place into something out of a catalog.” He muttered, rolling his eyes as he did so.

“My mom? What about your ‘mom’?” I questioned, putting air quotes around the word as he glared at me, “We don’t know her, Nikki!” I shouted quietly.

“You don’t know her, but I know her and-“ I quickly cut him off, “Oh that’s total bull and you know it. You barely know her either.” I rolled my eyes, shaking my head as i rubbed my face.

“Okay, fine. But I’m getting to know her, aren’t you happy about that?” His voice was softer as he rested his hands on my hips, “She’s actually here Van, wanting to try and fix things with me.” I sighed as I looked up into his eyes. Seeing that hope he’s had since he was a kid when it comes to Deanna.

“Baby, I just...she’s a stranger coming into our home.” I aired my worries as Nikki nodded.

“Vanity, just trust me alright? Everything’s gonna be fine. If she starts acting up I’ll tell her to go, okay? Can you deal with that? Just for me princess?” Nikki said, lips tugging into a smile which only made me a smile.

I chewed on my bottom lip, “Only cause it’s you. but I’m telling you Nikki, if she does even one thing to make you upset I’m dragging her out of the house.” I warned him as he nodded.

“Now, is your mom really staying...” he asked, scratching the top of his head, “Yes, and then Greyson and Sage will be here in like two days as well.”

“Doll, you’re killing me.” He groaned, leaning his forehead against my collar bone, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I shrugged, giving him a smirk, “Must’ve forgot, kinda like how you forgot to tell me Deanna would be here.” I tilted my head to the side, watching his soft expression turn into a scowl.

“Do not start with me this early in the morning.” He stepped closer to me as I giggled.

“Or what? It’s not like you can take me upstairs while everyone is here.” I said, lightly patting his crotch as he jumped, “Keep it in your pants while my family is here.” I mumbled, moving away from him but he grabbed my arm tightly.

“I don’t give a fuck if the royal British Queen was here, I will take you upstairs and fuck you.” He placed his lips by my ear before gently nibbling on the skin.

I exhaled deeply, glaring up at him as he smirked down at me. My mom had came back into the kitchen as Nikki took his hands away and sat down at the table.

“Nikki, your mother seems nice.” Mom said as he smiled a little bit.

“Yeah, I hope so. Haven’t seen her in a few years or heard from her...” Nikki explained, noticing how moms facial expression changed. I noticed it too

“Oh...well...glad she’s here.” Mom forced out as I rolled my eyes.

Nikki cleared his throat, “well, if you ladies don’t need me, I’m gonna change and then head to the studio to meet up with the boys.” He said as I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Hope you have a good day, Van.” Nikki said, trying not to laugh as I glared at him. He came over, trying to kiss me but I turned my head. He forcefully grabbed my jaw and pressed his lips to mine.

“Call if you need me.” He whispered in my ear before kissing the top of my head and heading up the stairs.

Bastard.

“So, I was thinking maybe we can start looking for music? Maybe food? I know you want to stick with the carnival theme for him so we should stick with food that is served at those things.”

I nodded as I watched her write down things in a planner, “It doesn’t need to be huge-“ mom cut me off as she raised up her hand.

“It’s going to be big. Start making a list of people who would come, maybe we can get some photographers, or maybe MTV-“

“Whoa, okay stop! It can be big but no photographers and no MTV! If anyone’s taking pictures it’s gonna be me with Nikki’s camera.” I clarified as she sighed.

“But honey, he’s a rockstar.” I furrowed my eyebrows as I stared at her. So fucking what if he was a rockstar?

“Okay so that means we need alcohol and drugs and a whole bunch of strippers right?” I rolled my eyes as she huffed.

“So no open bar?” She raised an eyebrow as I sighed.

“Yes, I want an open bar...” I smiled as mom wrote it down. My eyes moving over to Deanna as she came back into the kitchen.

I didn’t think Nikki looked like her. Maybe the eyes or the jaw. Maybe the natural brown hair. She smirked at me as we made eye contact. Ah, there was the resemblance.

“You are very pretty Vanity.” Deanna spoke kindly as I smiled, nodding at her words.

“Oh...thank you. So are you.” I returned the compliment as she eyed me. I couldn’t tell if she was checking me out or judging me. But all I knew is that I felt uncomfortable.

“How did you meet Frankie?” She asked as I winced at her words. I turned my back and started getting a bowl of cereal ready.

“I met Nikki-“ I put the emphasis on his name, “...at the diner I work at. Back in eighty one I believe it was. I was his waitress, it was the same night he met Tommy. It was also the night he left his old band, London.” I said before taking a bite of Frosted Flakes.

“Another band? I didn’t know he was in another band.” Deanna seemed genuinely surprised.

“Yeah...bet you didn’t.” I rolled my eyes, “...it was when he first started. Just with some guys he knew I guess. Then him and the singer got into a fight on stage, Nikki was sitting at the booth with a bloody nose.”

“How about balloons?” Mom asked, I nodded, “Blacks and reds, maybe silvers or gold.” I suggested as she nodded.

“So how did he get into Motley?” Deanna questioned as she made a fresh cup of coffee.

I tilted my head to the side, wiping my lip of cereal crumbs, “Shouldn’t you be asking him that?”

She nods, “just...just trying to figure out what to ask. Im sure you know our relationship.”

What relationship? There isn’t one!

“Yeah, he’s told me..” I said, glaring at her before taking another bite.

“So how was Motley created?” She asked again as I sighed, “Something about finding mick in a news paper ad and Tommy knowing Vince from high school, and then they met and started playing, pretty basic.” I shrugged, seeing Nikki wall down the stairs behind her.

“I’ll be back later, dinner tonight with everyone?” He asked, walking into the kitchen as I nodded, “love you.” Nikki said, coming over to kiss me, taking a bite of my cereal before hand, “love you too.” I muttered before kissing him again.

I watched as he turned around to give me a thumbs up before walking out the front door. My eyes met Deanna’s again, “Cake? Or cupcakes? If so, which flavor?” Mom questioned as I laughed.

“Don’t worry about that, I already had Nikki pick out the cake he wants. It will be ready on Friday.”

“You know, I tried calling him a few times a couple of years ago, it never ended well.” Deanna had a facade I could read write through.

“Yeah, I remember you leaving a nice little voicemail for him too.” I said, arching a brow as her facial expression became serious.

“That was the first time I ever seen him cry, second time being after he came home when he pretty much died and came back to life. Did you call then? To see if your son was still alive?” I asked as mom cleared her throat. Deanna’s glare followed me as I put my bowl in the kitchen sink.

It was gonna be a fun couple of days.

*later that evening*

“Sooo....How was it?” Nikki asked as I pulled up my jeans and fixed my shirt, “How was what?” I asked, glancing over and seeing him putting his boots on.

“My mom? Your mom? Being together with them today.” He laughed, looking over at me, I shrugged as he let out an amused grunt.

“It was fine. Your mom...she seems a little...I don’t know, bitchy?”

I saw an eyebrow raise through the mirror, “Bitter? Desperate? Fake? Two face-“

“Enough!” He yelled, startling me as I turned around and glared at him, “That’s still my fucking mom, Vanity!” He shouted again, as I rolled my eyes, putting on my leather jacket.

“Sorry...” I mumbled, “she just, I don’t know. She seems...” I tried choosing my words carefully as he continued to glare at me.

“I mean, she’s not mother of the year...but I’m tolerating her. I should get brownie points for trying because I could just tell her to piss off.” I expressed as his expression didn’t falter.

“Be nice to her, take her shopping or something. Make her feel included in everything.” He rambled as I nodded.

“I have been. Her and mom and myself decided on a color pallet for your party and the food too. We’re still deciding on the music, I figured a DJ so we could get a little of everything.”

“Okay, so maybe take her shopping. Bond with her a little bit. It doesn’t have to be all business.” Nikki suggested as I rolled my eyes.

“Nikki, no offense. But she could not afford the stores I shop at, I can take her to like...I don’t know? A thrift store?” I said as he let out a boisterous and amused laugh.

“Baby, I love you.” He said, guiding me towards him as he pulled on my hand.

“I’m trying Nikki. I’m trying for you, but I can only hold back for so long when she’s making smart little comments towards me.” I said, watching him kiss my exposed mid drift.

“What did she say?” He asked, hazel eyes staring up at me.

“Okay, well she hasn’t said anything-“ he rolled his eyes as he laid back on the bed, “-but she just looks at me, like she’s judging.”

“Well, how do you know she’s judging? She’s probably just trying to figure you out.” He said, rubbing his face before glancing at me.

I shrugged as he sighed, “Van, I’m sure it’s nothing okay? Just relax, alright? Let’s go to dinner with our moms and then we can come back home and watch a movie or something.”

I nodded, stepping away from the bed as he tugged me towards him again by the back of my thighs.

“I love you. And I’m happy you are trying.” He mumbled, standing up as he gave me a kiss before pulling me into a tight hug.

“Thankful you are more willing than I am. I’m still trying to figure it all out.” He muttered into the crook of my neck as I nodded again.

“Are we read- oh sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Deanna spoke as she stood at our door frame, “Clarissa asked me to come check, if you two need a minute we can wait.” She smiled, looking back and forth between us.

“No, no Deanna. It’s fine.” Nikki said, quickly pecking my cheek as he grabbed his jacket.

“You know, Nikki, you can call me mom if you want.”

I rolled my eyes as I followed behind them both. I exhaled deeply, it wasn’t going to be a fun week. It was going to be long and tortuous.

*Dinner conversation*

“So, Vanity.” I glanced over at Deanna, wine glass pressed to my lips as she said my name. I stared at her, just seeing the wheels turning inside that head of hers.

“Your mother was telling me earlier about the way Nikki has treated you in the past.” She stated, feeling Nikki’s hand tense up as it rested on my thigh. I glanced over at my mom, seeing that she was nose deep in her glass of white wine.

“I’m sure Nona and Tom didn’t raise you to be like that.” My eyes widened as I noticed Nikki glare at her. I grabbed his hand, squeezing it lightly.

“It’s, it’s okay. It’s in the past, he knows what he’s done. And I’ve forgiven him for it. It’s fine.” I expressed, grabbing my wine and taking a sip.

“Did you ever meet Nona?” I shook my head, telling her no, “just know about her from what Nikki’s told me. Wish I could’ve.” I said, leaning my head against his shoulder as he kissed the top of my hair.

“What about Tom? I’m assuming since he’s met your family you’ll start meeting his.” Deanna said as I narrowed my eyes at her.

“Not yet, but I’m sure I will. Maybe I wanted to meet you first. See if everything he’s said is true.” I spoke, feeling Nikki’s fingers lightly pinch me.

“Van.” He said my name sternly as I shrugged. Deanna let out a light scoff as she focused on me, “And What has he said?” She questioned, looking at me with utter disbelief.

“Oh, well. Maybe it isn’t dinner conversation, but we can sure as hell have it if you want.” I suggested as mom glared at me.

“Vanity, knock it off. Now.” Mom demanded as I glared at her.

“It’s your fault! Don’t tell her mine and Nikki’s business!” I shouted loudly at her, as Nikki gripped my thigh.

“Calm down.” He said, as I shoved his hand off of me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw people looking over at us, and Deanna smirking as she brought the coffee cup up to her burgundy lips.

Oh, that fucking cunt.

*After Dinner, back at home*

“Let’s just relax. let’s watch a movie-“ “I don’t want to watch a god damn movie!” I yelled at Nikki as we walked into our bedroom. I immediately started stripping and went to the bathroom to wash off my make up.

“I mean, your mom wouldn’t have said anything if you didn’t run home every time something happened.” Nikki pointed out, making me glare at him in return.

“Oh, shut up nikki.” I groaned, rolling my eyes as I started brushing my teeth. I watched as he huffed before leaving the bathroom and then slamming the bedroom door shut.

I shook my head, glaring at myself as I stood in the mirror. I’m not gonna be made out to be the bad guy. Deanna is not going to walk into my house and try to disrespect me or make me look like some self centered, high maintenance brat, because I’m not.

Okay, high maintenance maybe but I am not self centered.

I finished brushing my teeth, and then plopped down face first on to our bed. I sighed deeply when I heard a knock on the door, “Yeah?!” I yelled as it opened and I sat up, seeing mom giving me her stern, motherly look.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” I mumbled as she sighed and sat down next to me on the bed.

“I…I just, I don’t want her to hurt him. Deanna has done enough to him and she’s came at such a bad time, he’s more sensitive around his birthday and Nikki’s just going to buy into her bullshit.” I explained as my mom listened to me.

“Vanity, Nikki is a grown man who can make his own decisions. He made the decision to call her, he made the decision to invite her into yours and his home. He tried with grandma and grandpa, now it’s your turn to try with his mother.”

I sighed as I ran my hands through my hair, “I don’t trust her at all.”

“Vanity, you don’t even know her. How can you not trust her? She seems to be a really nice lady.”

I shook my head, “She just gives me a bad feeling and I can’t tell nikki that cause he will get upset and say I’m not trying, but I am trying mom.”

Mom nodded, stepping off the bed as she smoothed out her dress, “We will see tomorrow when we take Deanna shopping.”

I groaned loudly as I laid back onto the bed, “Mom!!”

I didn’t want to spend more time with her then I already did. Shopping was my stress relief, it was what I did when I needed a moment of peace and quiet.

“Quit complaining and get some sleep, we have a busy day tomorrow.” Mom warned before leaving the bedroom.

I rubbed my face as I sat on the edge of the bed. I crawled up getting on my side as I got under the covers. I saw Nikki enter the room again as he closed the door. He walked over pulling off his shirt as he got in bed besides me.

“You done being a brat?” He questioned with a laugh in his voice as he draped an arm over my waist.

I rolled my eyes, pushing his arm off of me as I turned on my side. He groaned as he scooted closer to me and wrapped me up in his arms, “Come on, baby. Just relax I’m only playing with you.” He cooed, kissing my cheek softly before resting his cheek on top of my head.

“I’m trying for you Nikki.” I mumbled as he then kissed the top of my head.

“I know princess. I know you’re trying, that’s all I ask for.”

*next afternoon, Nikki’s POV*

In all honesty, when the fuck did I become so domesticated?

I was currently outside cleaning leaves out of the pool because Vanity said it was dirty. She said to hire someone, why would I hire someone when I could just do it? It’s like the same thing with the leaky faucet just a few weeks ago, she said to hire a plumber, so I went out and bought a book on how to fix household shit and I did it myself. Her car needed an oil change, she was going to take it in and get it done. Granted, it took me almost two hours to do it when in reality it should only take about thirty minutes tops. But I did it for her.

Is it because I love her? Maybe so. I don’t mind doing the little things for her when she asks. It made her happy, and it made my ego boost knowing I was being the man she wanted. Or the man I wanted to be for her.

My thought were interrupted when I heard the back door open, seeing Deanna walk outside. They must be back from shopping. I smiled at her as she walked over, arms crossed over her chest.

Vanity must of said something. I put down the net as I glanced over at her, “Hey Mom, what’s up? How was shopping?”

“Why does Vanity always seem to have an attitude? Is she like this with you.” Deanna questioned me.

Yes, however I’m not afraid to get in her face and tell her off. And when that doesn’t work, I drag her up to the bedroom and I make her get rid of it.

“I am being very nice to her. Helping her plan the party, helping her find the present. I even went out of my way and carried her shopping bags. Yet, she still wants to act like a brat, I don’t understand.” Deanna continued as I stood there listening.

I laughed a little bit, “Deanna, she’s just…I don’t know, she’s weird when it comes to having help. She’ll allow it but she doesn’t like too much of it, if you’re smothering her she’s gonna freak out and she just…she’s getting to know you. She knows our history and she knows our relationship. But trust me, she is trying.”

Deanna sat down in the poolside chair as she lit a cigarette, “Well, it’s none of her business what goes on between you and I.” My eyebrows furrowed as I sat down next to her.

“…I guess you’re right.” I rubbed the back of my neck as I agreed with her. Even if I didn’t truly agree with it…

I shook it off, “did you get anything from the stores? I know Van goes ape shit when she goes shopping.” I laughed a little bit as she nodded.

“Clarissa had boughten me a nice jacket and a purse and Vanity…well she picked out a dress, a nice pair of heels and beautiful necklace to go with it. I think I’m going to wear it to your party.”

I smiled, “See, Vanity is trying. She doesn’t normally do stuff like that. How come you didn’t buy anything yourself?” I asked, sitting down next to her as I also lit a cigarette.

She sighed, flicking away the ashes, “They shop at very expensive stores. Vanity spent three grand in just one store today.”

I groaned, I’ll have to talk to her about that later.

“And..and all the money I have on me is to get back home.” She explained as I nodded, trying to understand, “I have a job, but it doesn’t pay all that well, this was just some savings for a few months.”

I frowned, scratching the top of my head as I looked at her, “Do you need some money?” I questioned, fidgeting with my water bottle.

“Oh Nikki, I couldn’t take your money. You’ve worked so hard for it and have done so well for yourself. I am very proud of you.” She said as I nodded.

“Mom, how much? I have enough to at least let you enjoy yourself here and at home. Believe me, it’s not gonna hurt one bit. I have more money then I know what to do with.” I explained as I put my cigarette out. I tensed up when I felt her hand rest against my cheek. She guided me to look at her.

She smiled, brushing her thumb over my cheek, “always been such a sweet boy…” Deanna spoke softly as I became an absolute puddle to her motherly touch, “How about you name the price and I’ll be happy with it. Deal?”

I nodded, grinning like a little boy again, “Alright, I’ll cut you a check. I’m glad you’re here, mom.”

She took her hand away and nodded in agreement, “So am I, I’m glad it’s working out for the both of us.”

“Baby!” I peered over, seeing Vanity come out in a little yellow bikini. Fuck me.

“Hi princess.” I smiled at her, seeing her come over and give me a kiss before sitting down on my lap.

“Sixx, is the pool cleaned yet? I’ve been dying to swim all day. Shopping really wore me out.” Vanity said running her nails through my hair as she let out a deep, but dramatic sigh.

I nodded, wrapping my arm around her waist as my hand rested on the side of her thigh, “Yes, Princess. I got rid of all the leafs, treated it with the chlorine too. I gotta get the tree branches trimmed next week.”

She looked around, “We should have them trimmed into different shapes. Daddy and Theo use to do it on the ranch. It looked nice.”

I heard Deanna chuckle, “that would be tacky, dear.” She spoke to her as Vanitys expression changed in instant.

“I have to agree with her babe, we shouldn’t do that. It wouldn’t look good.”

She pouted, “Yeah, stupid idea anyways.” She muttered as I sighed.

“Maybe we can do a few trees shaped how you want them, okay?” I spoke softly, pecking her cheek as she leaned into my chest.

“Deanna, can you give us a minute so I can talk to him…alone.” Vanity asked as Deanna excused herself and went back inside.

“Shopping was dreadful.” I laughed as I held her, moving her legs so they were draped over mine.

“And whys that Princess? Not have the color you wanted?” I teased as she shoved my shoulder.

“And what did you buy that was three grand? Hm?” I asked as she smiled before kissing me.

“That doesn’t matter Nik. It was dreadful cause you’re mom was nagging me saying ‘that’s too short’ ‘that’s not pretty’ she even said I looked fat in a dress I tried on.”

My eyes widened, “well…uh…you’re not, you just got all these curves and I love every single last one of them.” I moaned, kissing her neck and feeling up and down her body.

She scoffed and pushed my hands off of her, “that’s not even the worse part! She then cornered me when my mom was looking at jewelry and asked if she could have some money.”

I looked up at her, “What? Did-did you give her any?” I questioned as she shook her head.

“No! Of course not! I told her I didn’t have any loose cash on me or any checks, which was a lie I always have cash in my wallet. I just don’t feel comfortable handing over money too her.”

I nodded, running my hand up and down her back, “Its fine doll, don’t worry about it. I’m gonna write her a check.”

She tilted her head to side as she stared at me, “A check? Nikki, have you gone mad?! Do not write her a check!”

I was beginning to get frustrated with her, “Vanity, she’s my mom. You’d do it if it was your mom. And honestly, don’t tell me what I can and can’t do with my damn money.”

She scoffed as she got off my lap, standing in front of me with her arms crossed against her chest, “Okay, so when she runs out money and asks for more you’re just going to write another check? And then one after that? And one after that and so forth.”

She rolled her eyes at me when she continued her monologue, “babe I am just looking out for you. She’s gonna keep crawling out of whatever hole she came from and she’ll keep asking for more of your money that you’ve worked so hard for. But just think about if you want to give her money….cause that’s all she’s ever gonna want from you.”

My eyes locked on hers when she mumbled that last part, thinking I wouldn’t hear it, “What did you just say?” I asked, standing up and stepping closer to her.

“I am doing what you and the stupid god damn therapist asked me to work on!!” I shouted as I threw my water bottle down on the ground, “You’ve been pestering the whole mom thing and now I’m fucking doing it and you want to throw a fit over it!!”

She looked up at me, seeing the anger in her eyes the more I yelled at her, “I said, that’s all she’s going to want from you if you give her money every time she asks for it.” Her voice was stern as she cackled, “Oh don’t even give me that bullshit Nikki. You didn’t even bother to tell me you were talking to her again. So don’t.”

I was about to throw her ass in the pool if I didn’t leave, “Enjoy the pool.” I grumbled, attempting to walk away from her but she grabbed my hand.

“What? You really want to argue more?” I asked as I pushed her hand off of me. I wasn’t in the mood to be affectionate with her now.

She shook her head, “Baby, don’t get mad at me. I’m just calling it how I see it. She comes and goes as she pleases, she’s done it you’re whole life. I don’t want you to give her money and she leaves and you end up hurt. I don’t want to see that.”

I shook my head, “Yeah, well seems like you don’t even want me to try at all, Vanity. Unlike you, I don’t have a family. She’s actually here for once and wanting to be here, don’t you get that?”

Van rested her hands on the back of my shoulders as she spoke softly, “I do want you to try Nikki, but I think using money is going in the wrong direction.”

I stepped away from her, pushing her hands off of me, “Why are you so fucking concerned about my money?! You aren’t concerned when you’re spending it yourself! Just fucking back off, alright!?”

She nodded as she sat down on the poolside chair, bringing her sunglasses down to her face as she picked up a magazine, “Shit…” I mumbled to myself, “Van, I’m so-“ she waved me off as I sighed.

“Don’t worry about it, babe. It’s all good, I’ll back off.” She looked up at me, smiling before she continued reading the magazine.

I spewed muttered curse words as I walked back into the house. I was too rough, and not the good kind that she likes. I exploded on her and she didn’t deserve that. She knows how sensitive the mom thing is for me. Why can’t the two of them just get along? Why do I have to be the middle man and make sure Vanity is happy and make sure my mom is happy as well?

Can my birthday hurry up and get here?

*next afternoon Vanity’s POV*

I yawned, looking over as I saw Deanna come outside with decorations, before relaxing into the poolside chair as I continued to catch some sun rays. Nikki’s birthday party was tomorrow evening and everything is pretty much all ready for him. The caterers would be here tomorrow to serve Carnival style food. Mom even found a guy that specialized in funnel cake and cotton candy making. I found an amusement company that specializes in parties like these, so they will be coming with real carnival stands for games like ring toss, shooting darts at balloons, as well as a full sized strongman attraction. I even booked fire eaters and sword swallowers.

Was I going overboard? Yes, definitely.

Was I doing it because I love Nikki and wanting to make it a wonderful birthday for him, as the last birthday he was stuck in rehab and even before that he was so fucked up to function? Also a yes.

“I do hope you plan on coming with us to pick up the cake at least.” I glanced from my magazine and at Deanna who was standing at the foot of the chair, hands placed on her hips.

Maybe if I kicked her hard enough she would fly into the pool?

“No, because I told my mom to just take my credit card and go get it, she left about an hour ago.” I explained, going back to reading my magazine. I let out a sigh, putting it back down as she hasn’t moved a muscle, “Any other questions?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, “Me and your mother are bending over backwards to make sure this party happens. Shouldn’t you be doing some of the work? Or will you break a nail?”

I rolled my eyes under the black sunglasses I was wearing. She seems to always take a shot at me whenever Nikki isn’t around.

“Well Deanna, the cake is ready a day early because I picked it out with Nikki a few days ago. I also got all the party favors for his guests, music, entertainment and food together. I created a guest list and gave it to Fred already. And, I didn’t even break a nail, maybe a sweat, but not a nail.” I smirked, looking at my white French tip nails that just got done yesterday.

She stared down at me, “Then you should help with the decorations. We still need to put up the lights, blow up some balloons, and need to figure out where you’d like the photo booth to go.”

I shrugged, “Nikki said he’d help with the lights when he gets back. I’ll help when I finish tanning, it doesn’t take that long to blow up balloons.” I shook my head, before reaching down and taking a sip out of the Corona bottle.

I tried reading the magazine again, seeing some new band from Seattle released their first album. Apparently, they’re gonna change the world of Rock. Wonder how Nikki-

“With him recovering, don’t you think it’s rude to drink around him?” Deanna questioned, seeing her lips tug into a smirk. I sighed again, putting the magazine back down as I pushed my sunglasses up to the top of my head.

“We’ve already discussed it and it doesn’t bother him. He’s fine with it.” I said, holding up the bottle before finishing it off. I added a dramatic, “Ah” when I put it down.

She scoffs, shaking her head at me, “And I’m sure your cocaine habit doesn’t bother him either, right?” I furrowed my eyebrows as I stared at her.

He went and told her about my business, our business?

“It is not a habit, Deanna. And quite frankly, it’s none of your god damn business.” I growled at her, moving to a sitting position as I glared at her.

“Well, seeing that he nearly died it would teach you a lesson about morals.” I laughed at her statement.

“Morals? Okay, mother of the year. Oh wait, you’ve never been a mother to him.” I quickly snapped back as I watched her eyes scowl at me. Hey, the bitch had it coming.

“At least I didn’t just hand him everything like some brat you are.” I laughed again at her statement, her eyes left mine for a quick second before coming back to me

“Yeah, because you didn’t have anything to give him except for years of bad feelings that resulted in him almost killing himself with a needle.” I spewed my anger at her, seeing her shake her head at me.

“Vanity.” I jumped in my chair when I heard Nikki’s strong voice, before seeing the smile on his mother’s face.

“Sixx, Babe. You’re home early.” I said, turning around in the chair. Seeing he had a white bag in his hand, as well as noticing the glare he had on me. I turned back around and faced the pool.

She set me up!

“Deanna, there’s a bag of food in there for you on the counter.” Nikki told her as I shook my head, muttering under my breath as I watched her leave.

Nikki came and sat down next to me in the other chair, a stern look across his face, “She started it…” I mumbled, watching him put a bag in front of me.

“Don’t be a brat, Van. Don’t go with it even if she did start it. Eat, I got Thai.” He explained as I rolled my eyes. I put the bag of food on his chair as he groaned.

“I’m not hungry due to all the coke I shovel into my nose-“ I paused, looking over at him as he shook his head, “You really went and told your mom I came home high? That is none of her business, Nikki.” I spoke, becoming more annoyed with the whole situation.

He let out a laugh, “Don’t even start that shit with me Vanity, okay? You tell your mother my business all the damn time.”

I scoffed, “That…that’s different.” I couldn’t think of anything to say as what he was saying was true. But fuck, this woman hardly knows me! And hardly knows him too!

“Yeah? Everything’s different so you look less of an asshole.” He instantly responded, causing me to look away from him. Just don’t do it, Vanity. I bit down on my tongue, pulling my sunglasses down as I started to read again.

“Thanks for the food, I’ll eat later.” I mumbled, seeing him stand up before kissing the top of my head and going inside.

*Nikki’s POV*

Chicks equal trouble. I’m gonna keep saying it until the day I actually fucking die. This whole week has been a complete shit show. If Deanna’s not in my ear talking about Van, then Vanity is in my ear talking about her. It’s giving me a god damn headache, I can’t wait until this party tomorrow.

I rubbed my face, walking through the glass doors as I saw Deanna eating at the island bar, she smiled at me, “I’ve never had…What is this? Thai? I’ve never had this before, it’s good.”

I gave her a light nod, “Yeah, we go a lot…it’s one of the few things Van will eat, she’s picky.” I explained, walking over and grabbing my food and water bottle.

“Speaking of Vanity, please don’t get her going. Because once she starts she doesn’t stop. It’s her idea for the party, just…just let her be.” I asked kindly as she looked at me, sipping on her cup of ice tea.

“Nikki, she hasn’t done anything but lounge around the pool all afternoon, getting day drunk. She’s making me seem like I’m the bad guy when all I asked is if she was coming with her mother and i to get your cake.”

I chuckled, “Vanity is no where near being drunk, trust me. Mom, she knows what she’s doing. She has a lot planned for me. She is fine.” I explained, looking out the doors and seeing her play with Anarchy.

“Honey…” I looked over at Deanna, “Are you happy with her? She doesn’t seem to be supporting your sobriety by drinking and still doing drugs…”

I furrowed my eyebrows as I stared at her. What a stupid fucking question.

“Her coming home high was just a one time thing. The drinking doesn’t bug me as much as you’d think it does. I love her, okay? She’s my whole world and she put up with me for a very long time when I wasn’t doing alright.” I explained as she nodded at me.

“One time? I’m sure you should know better than that.” She talked back, causing me to grow irritated with her at a rapid pace.

“And I’m sure you know to keep your mouth shut about her or you can see your way out the door.” I was quick to snap at her, watching her blink a few times before looking away from me.

She cleared her throat, “Of course, I am sorry, Nikki. I didn’t mean to upset you.” She was quick to apologize, almost as I was quick to accept it.

“It’s fine, just lay off of her, okay? I’m gonna go spend some time with her, she was still sleeping when I left this morning.” I explained as she nodded.

I excused myself as I went up to our room, quickly getting changed into red swim trunks as I pulled my shirt off. I walked back downstairs, seeing Deanna eating and reading some book. I walked back out the glass doors, seeing Vanity laying on her stomach with her bikini top off. Her hand was brushing over Anarchy’s back as she laid in front of the chair.

Vanity turned her head to look at me when I got into the pool. I swam over to her, perching my elbows up on the side of the concrete, “Come to join your favorite brat?” She teased, holding her chin in the palm of her hand.

I smiled, petting Anarchy as she walked over to say hello, “Only if you want to join your favorite boyfriend in the pool.” I retorted, raising an eyebrow as she smirked.

“You’ve came with a very tempting offer, but it’s all about tanning today, Sixx.”

I pretended to pout, “But baby, it’s my birthday.” I knew under those sunglasses she was rolling her eyes.

“Nik, your birthday is tomorrow, today doesn’t count.” She huffed, running her nails through her hair that was still wavy from her curls the night before.

“But we celebrated yours almost the whole week, Princess.” I pointed out as she giggled, blowing a pink gum bubble at me before she popped it. She was being a tease without knowing it.

She licked her lips shortly after, “That’s because I’m me, your princess.” I grinned widely, “Yes you are, doll.”

“I’m also giving you the coolest party ever. You want the details?” She asked. I knew she has been itching to tell me since her big fat mouth can’t ever keep anything to herself sometimes. Her mother made her swore up and down in front of me that she wouldn’t ruin the surprise. All I know is that it’s a carnival theme and that a lot of people will be here. Oh, and I have to help hang lights up. That’s all I know.

“No, No. I want to keep it a surprise.” I said as she groaned, “But I’ve planned so much, regardless if your mother thinks I’m not doing anything. what if you hate it all?” She questioned me, her voice becoming timid.

“Baby girl, love of my life, I don’t care if it’s a cake mix package with a candle on top. I’d still love it.” I expressed as she gave me her million dollar smile.

“Y’know Sixx, I’d sit up and show you my tits but all the curtains are open.” She teased as she took off her sunglasses, pushing them to the top of her head. Her face had a light hue of pink and her hazel eyes looked golden against the suns reflection of the pool.

“And Deanna is here, so let’s save that for later after everyone’s sleeping.” I suggested as she smirked.

“All the more fun.” She teased, cupping her chest as she sat up straight with a shit eating grin. I groaned as she got up from the chair, still holding herself as she sat on the edge of the pool in front of me.

“Shouldn’t be mean to me before my birthday.” I mumbled, pressing my lips to her knees as I looked up at her.

“And if I am?” She asked, lowering her face mere inches from mine. I shook my head, trailing more kisses up her thighs. I gently bit down on her soft and warm skin, causing her to grab a fistful of my hair to pull me away.

She looked back at the house before letting go of her tits and slipping into the water in front of me, “Don’t start something you won’t be able to finish.” I warned her as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders, pressing her bare chest against me.

I lifted her up, legs wrapping around my waist as I pinned her against the edge of the pool. I pressed myself into her, making a little moan escape. I put my lips on hers, deepening it as I slipped my tongue in. Tasting the residual alcohol plus the strawberry gum she was chomping on. She cupped my jaw, brushing her thumb over my cheek as her free hand loosely gripped my shoulder. I broke the kiss, grazing my lips across her jawline, before moving down to her neck. I kissed that sweet spot of hers that lays right under her earlobe. I felt her shudder in my hands as I left a deep red mark on her skin only to suck harder as she let out a sweet little whimper of my name.

“Quit defiling my daughter.” I quickly pulled away from her when I heard Clarissa’s booming voice. Vanity chuckled as she leaned her head against my shoulder.

“Mom, you’re in my house that I share with my boyfriend. What do you expect?” Van questioned, glancing over at her mom.

“I expect you to be considerate of your guests, Vanity.” Clarissa responded, sending her deadly mom glare at me.

“Yes mother, how very sorry I am for wanting to make out with my boyfriend, my apologies.” I pinched her hip as she tugged on my hair.

“Don’t pull my hair!”

“Don’t pinch me, then!”

“Oh enough, you two! Vanity get out of the pool. You’re siblings will be here soon. And would it kill you to keep your clothes on?” Clarissa shouted, throwing a beach ball at Vanity’s head.

“Mom! Would you stop it!” Vanity groaned as she pulled away from me, holding her tits as she got out of the water.

“You’re no better, Nikki.” Clarissa said, pointing at me as I pulled myself out of the pool, “Sorry.” I spoke, grinning like a naughty school boy as I followed Vanity inside the house.

I grabbed her hips and pulled her to me, her back resting against my chest. I placed my lips on the side of her neck, “Where do you think you’re going? Hm?” I mumbled in her ear as she laughed.

“I am going to shower and get ready before my siblings get here.” She said as I started untying her bikini top and throwing it on the floor.

“Nikki! Can you come here a moment!” Clarissa yelled for me as I groaned.

“Yeah! Just give me a minute!” I yelled back, as Vanity pushed me away, “Babe, no, no c’mon.” I pouted trying to pull her towards me.

She put her hand on my chest, “Go on. I have to get ready.” She stood her ground as she gently shoved me, “Later, I promise.” She said before closing the bathroom door in my face, locking it for good measure.

She knew me to well.

*next morning, Nikki’s POV*

I woke up, hearing the blaring of the fire alarm and seeing Vanity’s side of the bed a mess. I kicked the blankets off, quickly going downstairs as I heard Anarchy barking.

“Jesus Christ! What did you do!” I yelled, seeing Vanity pouring water over a hot pan in the sink, her mother and Deanna just sat at the kitchen table watching her, trying to hold in their laughter.

“And nobody bothers to turn off the alarm?!” I shouted, getting irritated more and more. I groaned hoping up onto the counter before reaching to turn the alarm off on the ceiling.

I stepped down, seeing Van’s, well my band shirt covered in white powder, “Are…are you trying to cook?” I questioned as she smiled, lip between her teeth as she nodded.

“Happy birthday, Sixx!” She cheered as she walked over and gave me a kiss before handing me a cup of coffee.

“I’m not sure if it’s even edible.” Clarissa teased as Vanity scoffed, “She said she didn’t want any of our help so we’ve just been supervising.” Clarissa continued as I looked around the kitchen.

“I made pancakes and bacon and scrambled eggs and I even cut up fruit!” Vanity showed me as I eyed the bacon, it was burnt to a crisp.

“But uh….you don’t know how to cook…” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. I would have preferred waking up to her sucking me off.

“Well….I tried….look! They have chocolate chips in them!” She said, showing me a plate of misshaped pancakes. I forced a smile, trying to hold my laughter in. It was cute she was trying.

“I’ll make you a plate!” She was cheerful and being too nice. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her no so I nodded and sat down at the table with our moms.

“Happy birthday, sweetie.” Deanna said with a smile, reaching over and touching my arm softly.

“Thank you.” I muttered, eyes being brought to a plate of so called food Vanity out in front of me and then followed by a plate to Clarissa and Deanna. They side eyed each other before glancing over at me, “Just eat it…” I whispered to them as Clarissa poked around at the food.

“Honey, we could have just went out for breakfast.” Her mom spoke as Vanity sat down with a plate of pancakes before passing the syrup to me.

“Well I know, but I thought it would be more special for Nikki.” She explained as she started eating her pancakes. I would have also rather gone out to breakfast.

I digged into the pancakes since she didn’t spit them back out. They were actually good.

“Vanity, you don’t know how to cook?” Deanna questioned as she picked at her plate, choosing her cup of coffee instead.

“I know how to cook some stuff…I’m learning.” Vanity said proudly as she took another bite. I tried eating the eggs, but spit it back out on the plate when she wasn’t looking.

“Good, I don’t want my grandchildren eating Thai take out every night, i’m sure Clarissa feels the same way.” Deanna spoke as my eyes widen, I accidentally dropped my fork on the table.

“Deanna, were taking it slow..” I explained, noticing Vanity become quiet as she moved her food around the plate.

“We’ll make sure to get you cookbooks Van.” Clarissa teased as Vanity rolled her eyes.

“I’m not gonna be Betty god damn Crocker.” She muttered, taking her plate before dumping her food into the trash can. She placed her utensils and plate into the sink with a commotion as I watched.

I grabbed her wrist when she tried walking past me, “Thank you for breakfast baby.” I reassured her as she nodded, giving me a smile as she glared at our mothers.

“Oh honey, we are just playing with you, there’s no reason for you to get up-“

“You have a lot of room to talk when you never made a home cooked meal once, it was always Loretta.” Vanity snapped at her mom as Clarissa had an unamused look on her face.

It was going to be a long day.

*a few hours later*

Vanity plopped down on the couch next me, “Be careful!” I shouted, quickly grabbing my bass as I put it on the other side of me.

“I swear, you love your basses more then you love me.” She retorted, getting comfortable as she laid her head on my lap, looking up at me.

I snickered, brushing my knuckles against her cheek, “Well you see sweetheart, they don’t talk back to me.” I muttered as she scoffed and pinched my arm.

“Are you excited for your party tonight?” She asked as I nodded at her words.

“Yes Princess, I am. It will be fun, I’m excited for everyone to be here. It’s..it’s gonna be good.” I smiled, leaning over as I kissed her lips. She placed her hand on the back of my neck, deepening it.

I broke the kiss, resting my forehead against hers before pecking her lips again, “I love you.” I whispered as she smiled at me.

“Nikki?” I leaned back up and looked over my shoulder seeing Deanna standing behind the couch with her purse over her shoulder.

“Oh yeah…get up for a moment.” I told Vanity as she moved away as I dug into my pocket for my wallet. I stood up walking over to her as I pulled out a folded up check, handing it out for her to take.

She smiled, as she looked at it, “Honey…this is…this is a lot.” Deanna arched her eyebrow as she looked up at me, surprise written all over her face.

“Don’t worry about the amount, it’s all good.” I smiled as she quickly wrapped me up in a hug. I held my breath, stiffening up before relaxing and putting my arms around her. When I finally got comfortable she pulled away from me. I cleared my throat, smiling with closed lips.

“I will be back later, okay? I’m gonna run to the mall and pick up what I found you.” Deanna promised as she held my cheek in the palm of her hand.

“Okay mom.” I nodded before she kissed my cheek and left out the door.

I sighed, going to sit down on the couch as I glanced over at Vanity, “Nothing to say?” I asked as she chuckled. She came back over and leaned against my chest as I wrapped my arm around her.

She mumbled, “It’s me backing off.”

I rubbed her arm, kissing the top of her head, “Sooo….how much was it? One? Five? Ten?”

Curiosity killed the cat. Vanity glanced up at me, waiting for my answer. I scratched the top of my head, “One of those…maybe more.” I replied as she stared at me.

“More?” She questioned, I didn’t have to say anything for her to know but she knew already that it was more than what she had listed prior. She sighed, leaning back into my chest as she flipped on the tv.

I wonder what Deanna picked out for me…

*Nikki’s Party, third person POV*

Vanity walked through her house, greeting the guests and making sure everyone was alright. She was wearing a black, skin tight dress that was semi see thru that stopped a little bit above her mid thigh. So far the party was wonderful. Everyone enjoyed the food, music, entertainment acts and the carnival games. Greyson even volunteered for the dunk tank. Vanity stepped outside seeing her brother getting pelted by balls from Nikki and Tommy.

She rolled her eyes, before sighing. Yes, everything was wonderful but Deanna hasn’t been back since she left this afternoon. She could tell Nikki was trying his hardest to keep it together.

Vanity saw Nikki glancing down at his watch, before looking around, he seemed nervous before pelting another ball at Greyson, now striking the button to drop him into the water.

Her heels clicked against the cobblestone walkway as she walked over to Nikki, reaching for his hand as he forces a smile. She frowned at it in return, “You almost ready to cut the cake?”

“Did-did you try calling her? Maybe she’s stuck in traffic?” His nervousness was out on display as she nodded, before glancing at T-bone. She had asked him to keep him busy so he wouldn’t think about it. Clearly, that wasn’t the case.

“Yeah, maybe it’s traffic…I’ll call her babe.” Vanity responded, leaning up to kiss his cheek as he quickly nodded.

She cursed under her breath when she turned away from him, knowing she’s already tried calling three times before he asked. She walked inside and to the kitchen before picking up the landline and dialing her number.

She stood there impatiently, getting more pissed off the longer she heard the mindless ringing. She slammed the phone down, not bothering to leave a voicemail.

Nikki watched as Tommy was trying to impress Heather with the strongman game. His eyes kept glancing towards the back doors, feeling like a kid again and expecting his mother to just walk in with presents or even holding a cake for him to blow out the candles. Instead, the familiar disappointment settled heavily in the pit of his stomach. He frowns when he sees Vanity walk out, already noticing the reddened cheeks, and it wasn’t from the the booze she had been sipping on. She was pissed off for him.

Tommy dragged him by the arm over to the cake after Greyson came up and whispered in his ear. Clarissa shoved one of Nikki’s cameras into Vanity’s hand, telling her to take pictures and not miss a single second of it. She’d rather miss this whole thing and not have to remind Nikki that his mom didn’t show up. Vanity takes pictures, seeing him force laughter and a smile. She cursed Deanna out mentally in her head, wishing to slap the shit out of her for doing this to him…again.

After Nikki blew out the candles, he quickly excused himself, “Enjoy the cake, everyone.” He smiled, giving a few people a hug before heading inside the house.

Vanity chugged the rest of her cocktail before she went inside herself. She found him sitting on the couch, lightly plucking the strings of the bass with a cigarette hanging from his lip.

Vanity stood by the coffee table, not even knowing where to begin, “Nikki, are you okay?” She asked, watching him exhale cigarette smoke as he glared up at her.

“I’m fine. I’m great.”

Vanity twiddled her thumbs before sitting down beside him. Her hand ran over his shoulder as he shifted away from her touch. She sighed, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Nikki continued strumming, from the sounds of it he was playing ‘Smoke on the Water’, “She acted so damn happy about coming…she said she wanted to be here and wouldn’t want to miss it.” Nikki shook his head, blowing out cigarette smoke before stubbing out the cigarette butt in the ashtray.

“Maybe…maybe something came up. I thought she was happy too, even if she kept pissing me off…I’m sorry Nikki.” Vanity said softly as he shook his head, blinking repeatedly as he felt his eyes burn, fuck, he did not want to cry over this like some little kid. Not now. Not in front of her.

He took the sunglasses off the top of his head, placing them back on as he kept playing his guitar. Vanity rolled her eyes, quickly taking them off his face while putting her hand on the fret board, holding it so he couldn’t play, “Stop trying to be the tough guy in front of me. I know you’re hurting.” Vanity demanded as he glared at her in return, gently pushing her hand off his instrument.

“Van, just give back my sunglasses.”

She shook her head, “No, it’s dark out. You don’t need them-“ Nikki cut her off, “My eyes are bugging me! Just give me the damn things, Vanity!” He shouted quietly, eyes brimming up with tears

“Your eyes aren’t bugging you. You just don’t want to cry in front of me.” She muttered, handing them over to him. He quickly puts them back on, wiping his cheeks right after.

“Baby, just go entertain our friends okay? I just need a moment.” Nikki begged as he laid his head on the back of the couch. Vanity looked over her shoulder, seeing everyone was content and having a good time.

“Everyone’s fine Sixx, I’m not leaving you….maybe she’ll call..give a reason why or something…”

Nikki shook his head in anger. He wanted so badly to just storm right over to that open bar and drain a bottle of Jack. Then break that said bottle to pieces and scream and tear everything in his path apart. But he couldn’t. He’s worked too hard to stay sober. Nikki suddenly let a sob escape as tears poured out of him. His fingers gripping his knees tightly, trying to stop the crying but the rage and emotions came out of no where. He gripped the neck of the bass, quickly shoving it off his lap and to the ground.

Vanity frowned, picking the bass off up and noticing the scuff marks on it. She sighed, holding him right after as he rested his head against her chest. His tears soaking into her dress, “Nikki…” she muttered, running her nails through his hair as he sobbed, “Baby, relax. You’re okay.”

Nikki clutched the material between his fingers as he cried, “I asked-i asked for one thing, just fucking show up for once! Just fucking do something for me once! But she can’t fucking do that. No, just use Nikki for some cash and a place to linger awhile before running off!!”

Vanity kissed the top of his head, arms woven around his body as he continued to vent his frustrations, “I don’t know what I was thinking! Or expecting! I shouldn’t have trusted her, I’m getting mad at you for just telling me how you feel about her while she’s off telling me bullshit!! What the fuck was I thinking?! What the fuck was my therapist thinking!” He yelled, moving away from her touch again as he had his elbows perched up on his knees, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. He felt his face heat up, his chest aching, the dull ache that always appeared whenever Deanna was around.

“Nikki, I think he was just wanting you to try. See if it would be better. No one had any clue she would do this.” Vanity explained as Nikki shook his head.

He glanced over at her, wiping his eyes, “I just…” he felt his throat tighten and voice crack, “I just wanted my mom, Vanity.”

Vanity felt her her heart break for him, seeing tears run down his cheeks, “Baby, I’m so sorry. I wish I could make it better…I-I wish I knew what to say.” She said, trying to pull him in for a hug but he quickly got off the couch as she looked up at him.

“Don’t-please, just go outside. I just, I need a moment.” He said, picking up his pack of cigarettes and lighting another one.

“Why can’t you just let me be there for you! Your friends are here for you. Nikki, my mom did all of this because she loves you.” Vanity questioned, becoming frustrated with him. She didn’t want him in here sulking over his own thoughts. She didn’t want him getting stuck in his own head.

Nikki threw the pack of cigarettes down, turning around and glaring at her, “Because I’m thirty one years old and I’m crying like a bitch over his mom not showing up!!” He yelled, “Just give me a fucking minute, Vanity!!”

*Vanity’s POV*

I sighed, getting off the couch and leaving him to himself. Oh, when I see that fucking woman again I am going to kill her. It is so fucked up of her to do this to him. Do this to him on his birthday and do it to him while he’s still in recovery. I know he wouldn’t just disappear and go shoot up, he’s worked to hard. But still, I worry.

I went back over to the bar, ordering another beer. I took a sip before leaning my head on the makeshift counter. Everything was going fine. I was tolerating Deanna even if she was being a royal bitch to me. I hope that cunt is happy with herself…and happy with his money.

I turned around hearing Nikki’s laugh, seeing him and Tommy throwing cake at one another, “Hey! What the fuck man! That’s perfectly good cake!” Tommy shouted, wiping frosting off his face before grabbing a chunk and smashing it into Nikki’s.

I saw mom motioning for me to stop it. Why? They are having fun. Nikki cracked up again, smirking as he throws another piece right back.

I put down my beer bottle, walking over to them as I took the plates of cake away from them, “Would you two stop acting like children for once!?” I asked before smashing it both smashing it both in their faces. I laughed as they stared at me before Nikki grabbed another piece and threw it in my face.

“Babe! My make up!” I whined, quickly wiping it off only for Tommy to smash another piece in my face, “T-bone!!” I cried, seeing both their shit eating grins. I started grabbing fistfuls of chocolate cake and throwing it at them repeatedly.

“Vanity! Nikki! Thomas! Knock it off!!” My mom yelled, face red as she stormed over to us. I quickly hit Nikki with another piece of cake as Tommy tried throwing a piece at me, only for me to dodge it and it land on my moms dress.

“Oh, whoops…”

*after the party*

I glanced over at Nikki, hiccuping as I tasted whiskey. Gross. He was strumming and tuning the new bass all three of the guys had gifted to him. It was a sleek black, brown and white one. It shined in the light and Nikki ruined it by putting a tacky punk sticker that said “fuck” on it.

I stood up and grabbed a small red gift bag I had tucked behind the couch. I smiled, putting it behind my back as I walked over to him. He looked up at me, smirking as he already knew I was up to something.

“Whatcha got there Princess?” He asked, reaching out for me and pulling me into his lap. I handed him the gift bag as he groaned.

“Now, I know you said you didn’t want me to get you anything, but when have I ever listened to you?” I questioned, eyebrow raised as I wrapped my arm around his shoulder.

“Mmm, never.” He laughed a little bit before smiling at me and beginning to open up his gift. I bit my bottom lip, seeing him give me a look when he pulled out a long black velvet box.

He shook his head, opening it up, “Oh..whoa..” his eyebrows were raised in surprise as he held up a necklace in his fingers. It was a simple, bulky sterling silver sterling chain with a padlock hanging from the middle. It was black, with a few gemstones but the middle was a skull and crossbones.

“Babe, this is actually really fucking cool.” I smiled at his words as I watched him put it around his neck and clasp it shut.

I was wearing the bracelet Nikki had gotten me that Christmas, I raised up my wrist showing him that I had a little black key charm that had the same skull and cross bone design.

“Thought you didn’t like the cute little couple things.” He muttered before kissing the side of my neck.

“Only for you Sixx.” I said as I felt him sigh. He nuzzled his head into the crook of my neck as he wrapped his arms around me, “Thank you for everything you’ve done this week princess, I can’t even begin to tell you how much I’ve appreciated it.”

I smiled, kissing the top of his head before he tilted and looked up at me, “I’m sorry about Deanna.” I mumbled, running my hand over his hair as he nodded.

Nikki rested against the couch as he ran his fingertips up and down my back, “Me too, but it’s fine. I had a wonderful birthday with you and my friends and your family. I should send your mom flowers when she gets home.”

I smiled, wiping a piece of missed frosting away from his head, “I meant what I said Nikki. Even after everything that’s happened between us, my mom loves you. This was her way of showing it. Though lavish parties and fancy things, she did it with me and my siblings.”

He chuckled, “Well I love her too, not as much as I love you though.” He said before leaning forward and giving me a soft kiss. I laughed into it, “Well I hope so, because that would be kinda weird.”

I got off Nikki’s lap, holding out my hand, “I have another gift for you, but I have to change into it.”

His eyes widened before he grinned, “Oh?” He quickly got up, holding my hand as I led him up the stairs. When we reached the top, he grabbed my hips and pulled me towards him as he peppered kisses down my neck and shoulder, “You’ve been nothing but a tease all week. It’s been killing me.” His breath was hot in my ear as it sent shivers down my spine. I felt his hands wander a bit, feeling him unzip my dress as we walked into the bedroom.

I had him sit down on the bed as I stood in front of him, gripping his shoulders as he fumbled with the bottom hem of my dress.

“You gotta close your eyes, no peaking or maybe you’ll be the one receiving birthday spankings this time.” I said, cracking up in a fit of laughter as he watched me, a huge smile on his face.

“Keep dreaming doll. that’s reserved for you and you only.” He chuckled, pulling up my dress just a tad bit I pushed his hands away.

“I’m joking, but please close your eyes.” I asked nicely before he nodded and closed them.

“Okay, okay, no peeking. I can’t see, happy?” He sighed dramatically as I went into the closet and pulled out a black bag, “More clothes? Vanity, c’mon.” He groaned as he heard the crinkle of the bag.

“Shut up, or I can just go straight to bed.” I snapped back.

“No, no, baby….it’s fine.” He whined as I chuckled.

I had picked out some lingerie the other day. It was a light pink silk fabric with black lace. It had thigh high stockings with garters to match. It even came with a matching robe.

“What the fuck are we doing? Having a god damn fashion show?” Nikki spoke as I quickly grabbed one of our pillows and smacked him in the back of the head with it.

“Van! Don’t be a fucking brat.”

Don’t be a brat? I smirked at his words and walked over to the nightstand, taking out his black handcuffs.

I twirled them around my fingers as I stepped over to him and quickly locked them on his wrists, with an attempt of him trying to fight me.

His eyes snapped open, looking down at the cuffs and then at me before they fell down to the robe that was tied and not exposing anything.

He laughed, “Baby, okay. You’re cute and all but take these off.” I shook my head, “Vanity, take them off.”

I smirked as I fumbled with the thin black material that was keeping him from seeing everything.

“Baby, I get it haha good joke. You win. But come on, princess. Just take them off, these are meant for you not for me.” Nikki spoke as he tried getting his wrists free.

I untied the robe, letting it fall from my shoulders and too the floor, “oh fuck.” He muttered as his eyes trailed down my body, taking in the pale pink and black lace of the matching lingerie set.

I stood in front of him, feeling his constricted hands run over my body as best as they could. He let out a little moan, as he pressed his lips to my abdomen, “So god damn beautiful, how did I get so lucky?” He asked as I ran my nails through his soft hair, gently tugging on it as his teeth nipped my hips.

“Baby, please take these off.” He ordered, grabbing the garter that was connected to the stockings and my underwear, snapping it against my skin. I hissed, shoving his shoulder as I took a step back from him. I motioned for him to stand up as he quickly did so.

I pressed my chest against his, running my hands through his hair again before placing them around his neck, “Happy Birthday baby.” I whispered, standing up on my tip toes as I pecked his lips.

I dropped down to my knees in front of him, unbuckling his belt before undoing the button and zipper. Pushing his pants down, my nails grazed up his thighs with fingertips diving into the waistband of his boxers before pulling them down too.

“How does it go again? She goes down, she goes down, down, down.” Nikki laughed as he sang his song. I looked up at him, rolling my eyes at the shit eating grin he had going on.

I wrapped my hand around his cock, slowly stroking him and massaging the bead of precum around the tip with my thumb. He sucked in a deep breath of air when I lowered my mouth on him, the tip first and then more as I went. His hand gripped my hair into a ponytail motioning me to take more of him. I bobbed my head up and down his long shaft, taking as much as I could before pulling back for a breath.

I continued sucking him off, moaning onto his shaft as he let out a moan of his own, “God, just like that Van.” He muttered, his finger tips resting on the back of my neck as he guided me.

“You take my cock so well baby girl, look at you.” Nikki upped the dirty talk as I glanced up at him, locking eyes with him before sending a wink. He groaned, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as the threw his head back in pleasure.

His hips began to slowly buck into me, “Fuck, that mouth is perfect.” He whimpered, looking down at me but all I saw was shaggy black hair covering his face.

I pulled back, wiping the spit from my lips as I sat on my knees in front of him and watched as Nikki stroked his cock. That was such a wonderful damn sight.

“Get me those damn keys already.” He growled, gripping my arm and pulling me up to my feet. He gave my ass a slap as I walked away from him. I grabbed the key, holding it out for him. When he reached for it, I quickly took it back, “Oh, gotta be quicker than that.” I giggled as he only glared at me.

“Vanity!! I’m not fucking around!!” I jumped at his yelling, “Okay, okay…” I mumbled, grabbing his wrists and unlocking the cuffs.

The handcuffs weren’t even off him yet before he had me on the bed underneath me, “Think you’re just a damn comedian, hm?” He said nipping the side of my neck before trailing rough and wet kisses down my abdomen.

His hands reached behind my back, unclasping the bra before throwing it across the room. Nikki’s hands engulfed my tits as his tongue swirled around my nipple before moving to the other one. I whimpered against his touch, feeling his teeth gently bite them.

His lips came back to mine, stealing a hot deep kiss as he invaded mine with his tongue, “Mmm, vodka cranberry?” He asked, pulling away as he kissed my chin.

“And jack and coke and a few Heinekens.” I added as he laughed before kissing me again. I wrapped my leg around his waist, pulling him closer as I felt his cock rub against Me. His hand went between my legs, pushing my panties to the side as his fingers brushed against my clit. I moaned against his lips when Nikki pushed a finger inside slowly, and then adding another one. There’s no doubt in my mind that this man was meant to play bass.

I broke the kiss with a loud moan as his fingers started curling faster, followed by his thumb rubbing against my clit. I slid my hand down my body, reaching for his wrist as I felt like I was about to come undone at any moment way too fast. Nikki quickly grabbed my hand, holding it tight as he pinned it to the bed with a cocky smirk plastered across his face.

“Something the matter?” He questioned, lips brushing over my chest as he stared at me all while his hand was between my legs.

“I’m…i’m-.” I was interrupted by a loud moan as Nikki lowered himself down, tongue swirling around my clit as those blown with lust hazel eyes gazed up at me.

“Oh my god Sixx!!” I yelled out, grabbing a fistful of his hair, fingers digging into the back of his head as I felt my release. Nikki grabbed my hips, keeping me still as he didn’t stop. I roughly grabbed more of his hair as I felt him groan against me.

He sat back on his knees, my legs draped over his as he marveled at my body. He wiped his mouth clean, “I fucking love making you cum.” Nikki mumbled as he then unfastened the clips connecting the garters to the panties. He quickly dragged the material down my legs before throwing them on the floor.

I reached into the nightstand pulling out a condom before handing it to him. He groaned, rolling his eyes as he took it, quickly discarding the wrapper as he rolled the rubber onto his hard shaft.

He kissed my calves as he rested my legs against his shoulders, lining himself up with my entrance.

He guided his cock into me slowly, making my lips part as his eyebrows were knitted together tightly. I wrapped my hands around his biceps as he gave it to me nice and deep. Nikki took out his cock all the way before thrusting back into me. Harder this time.

I let out a moan, scratching my nails down his chest and abdomen before he took my hand in his and held it over my head, “I love you.” He whispered, leaning down and giving me a kiss.

I rested my hand on the back of his neck, deepening the kiss as his thrusts became rough into me. The sound of his hips smacking against mine bounced off the walls of our bedroom with the added mixture of his name being whimpered by me and his low grunts.

Nikki wrapped my legs around his waist, gripping my thighs as the newfound angle allowed him to fuck me deeper, and he took advantage as I started to become undone all over again.

“Nik-Nikki don’t stop.” I breathed out, holding onto his shoulders as my nails dug into his skin. His hand went between our bodies feverishly rubbing the already sensitive bundle of nerves.

My body tensed up underneath him when my breath got caught in the back of my throat as I felt my orgasm rush through me. Nikki worked me through it before he pulled out, roughly grabbing my waist and turning me over on my stomach.

Nikki quickly entered me again as he started fucking me even harder. He brought his hand down for a stiff slap against my skin before wrapping my hair into a ponytail around his fist.

“Jesus Christ, Nikki.” I groaned, feeling his fingertips digging deep into my hips.

“I’m just taking what’s mine.” He moaned into my ear, teeth gently nipping as his free hand found its way to the front of my neck. He squeezed gently at first, my hand gripping his as his hold tighten before he let go.

He laughed in my ear and kissed my shoulder, “So good for me darling.” He whispered, placing his lips on my shoulder for a sweet kiss before replacing a kiss with a bite.

Nikki’s moaning became more prominent beside my ear as his thrusts started speeding up. He angled me by my hips, gripping them tight still as he brought his fingers in between my legs and started rubbing my clit once more.

“C’mon princess, one more for me. Just for me.” He moaned, resting his head against mine. I soon felt myself release around his cock again as a drawn out moan of his name slipped off my tongue. Nikki continued to fuck me through it as I felt him hit his own breaking point.

He slowed down, pressing kisses to my spine and the back of my neck, “Mhmm, fuck…” Nikki whimpered, pulling out of me as he slapped my ass one more time, making me jump before going to the bathroom.

I heard him start the water of the shower. I slowly got up, groaning as my ass brushed against the sheets and stung just a little bit. I checked my mirror, only to see his welted hand print across the tattoo.

I walked into the bathroom seeing him already in it as he smiled and held open the glass door for me. He gently grabbed my hand, pulling me in and under the water that was just the right temperature.

Nikki held me in his arms, pressing soft kisses across the bruises he had given me on my neck and shoulder, “I wanna marry you.” He mumbled into my skin as I chuckled, pushing my wet hair out of my face.

“Is that a proposal?” I questioned as he glanced at me with a smile.

“No Van, it’s just me telling you. You’ll know when I pop the question.” He muttered, lowering his head down and pecking my lips.

“Well I want to marry you too.”

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pengychan · 4 years

Text

[Coco] Best Man

Title: Best Man Summary: Ernesto couldn't understand what was it about Imelda that his best friend found so amazing. By the time he could, it was too late. [Modern setting, written for @appatary8523] Characters: Ernesto de la Cruz, Imelda Rivera, Héctor Rivera. Imector, onesided Ernesto/Imelda. Rating: K

A/N: Appa asked for a serving of one-sided pining with some she's-about-to-marry-my-best-friend sprinkled on top, and I complied. Had a lot of fun with it, too.

***

“Food poisoning.”

“Yes, I heard you the first seven times. I was actually the one who told you--”

“One time you go out of town on your own since last year, one time, and my husband winds up in the hospital with food poisoning!”

“Look, I tried to tell him that chorizo didn’t look all that great, but he was hungry and--”

“And so you just let him eat it while you steered well clear of it!”

“What, since when is it my responsibility to watch what he eats?” Ernesto huffs, throwing up his arms with dramatic flair. A guy sitting on the other end of the waiting room blinks blearily at him, clearly hungover. “Am I my brother's keeper?”

Imelda rolls her eyes, but her lips curl upwards for the briefest moment, and Ernesto mentally marks it as a victory. “I’m not sure what made you think quoting Cain would come off as perfectly innocent.”

“All right, you got me. I tried to poison him. My plan was to leave him in a ditch and run off with his iPad and all the songs in it. So I could make it big, be a star, never think of him again.”

“Very funny.” A pause. “... Do you have it? The iPad? Because the last thing Héctor is gonna need is getting out of here to find out it’s gone.”

“Yes, yes, I have it. And the guitar. All in the car. Which might have a couple of new bumps...”

“What?”

“He was all green in the face, I panicked that he’d throw up again and hurried to the hospital.”

“Like cleaning our car would have been your problem.”

“No, but if he’d thrown up then I would have thrown up and probably crashed.”

“... Fair,” Imelda condedes with a sigh, and leans back on her seat. Ernesto leans back on his own, reaching up to fix his hair with a hand, turning to glance at the mute TV screen in the corner - anything to avoid looking at her.

It’s better this way.

***

When he and Imelda met, Ernesto took slightly less than two minutes and a half to decide she was a dumb girl and he didn’t like her.

To be fair, at age twelve he still found all girls to be dumb girls he didn’t like. That would partly change in the next several years - some girls were dumb, he’d declare then, but not in their face he did like them very much - but right there and then, there was nothing about Imelda he liked. And that was, he’d insist, in no way related to the fact she’d shown up out of nowhere, three years younger, and shattered his record by making a rock skip across the stream sixteen times.

The look of pure wonder Héctor had given her, the one that was usually reserved to him when he pulled out something, had been the last straw. Ernesto had immediately declared her a dumb girl and made sure Héctor promised not to talk to her, ever, lest he wanted to catch dumb girl cooties. His friend, who was eight and not especially bright - Ernesto would deny thinking that later on - had seemed a bit saddened, but he hadn’t argued, because he never argued with him.

And, at least officially, he’d kept his word for a few years, until they were all older and even Ernesto had to grudgingly concede that it was a stupid promise and dumb girls cooties were not a thing. In truth, he’d actually been talking with her without him knowing, because he found her amazing for some reason Ernesto couldn’t comprehend.

By the time he could, it was too late.

***

“Ay, Imelda, mi amor, mi vida. Come close to hear my last words--”

“Your next words had better be ‘sorry for being that idiota who gets food poisoning a week before the wedding, I will be back on my feet by then’.”

On the hospital bed, his skin still a rather unhealthy ashen shade, Héctor grins like a boy caught with his fingers in the cookie jar. “I’ll marry on my deathbed if I must.”

A roll of her eyes, a smile she can barely hide. “Ay, you’re so dramatic.”

“Ernesto’s fault,” Héctor’s declares, causing Ernesto, still standing in the doorway - he let Imelda have the chair beside the bed, ever the gentleman - to protest.

“Wait, what?”

“You rubbed off me!” Héctor declares, dramatically.

Ernesto throws up his arms. Dramatically. “Oh, sure. Blame me for everything, why don’t you,” he huffs. “Maybe I’m too dramatic to be your best man, too.”

Héctor laughs. “Ah, never. There is no one else I’d ever pick to be my best man at the wedding.”

Lucky me.

The thought is bitter as bile and maybe something shows on his face; Héctor’s expression doesn’t change, but Imelda’s does. She doesn’t quite scowl, but her gaze is more attentive, and it is enough to make Ernesto feel like he’s under a spotlight… and not the kind he enjoys.

“... I’ll go get a drink,” he mutters, leaving quickly and realizing just a bit too late that a hospital is not the right place to go looking for alcohol. At least, not the kind you’re supposed to drink.

All right then, coffee. Coffee it is.

There is a café at least, and the coffee is halfway decent. He sits, takes out his phone, checks his emails and notifications-- ah, looks like a few people showed interest in his profile across a couple of dating apps. Three women, one man. Not bad at all when what you need is a boost to your ego. Two are nothing to write home about, the other two are… worth considering. Maybe later, after the end of next week once the wedding is done, Héctor and Imelda will be off to their honeymoon in Guatemala, and he will probably need some pleasurable company. And alcohol.

Large amounts of it.

***

“I really don’t get what you see in her.”

Ernesto’s grumble was met with a dreamy smile, a slow strum of a guitar’s strings. “Well, first of all, she-- hey!” he yelped when a tangerine smacked against his forehead and then fell back down on the floor with a sound that was more like a splat then a thud.

“That wasn’t a real question, cabrón,” Ernesto grumbled again. He sat back against an empty crate, watching as the vendors began to dismantle around them, another market day over. Soon enough the plaza would be mostly empty, before it filled again with people after dark. “And anyway, she’s not your type.”

“She is exactly my type!”

“And what is, pray tell, your type?”

The question caused Héctor to turn deep red and stammer, as though entirely out of words despite the fact he could always find all the right ones when sitting alone in a quiet room, a blank piece of paper in front of him. “W-well… she is smart, and… and beautiful…”

“That’s everyone’s type,” Ernesto snorted. “No one likes women dumb and ugly. Just dumb, maybe, but not ugly, unless you’re really that desperate and the lights are out...”

“That’s not-- ugh. If Sofía could hear you, she’d smack you over the head and you’d deserve it.”

“I’m just telling it how it is.”

“She’s… not like other girls!”

Ernesto made a face. “That line, really? Now you’re the one who’d be getting a smacking while being asked what’s wrong with other girls.”

Héctor’s face flushed crimson. “That’s not what I meant! I-- all right, that was-- not what I meant,” he repeated lamely. “She’s not like… anyone else. To me.”

“Oh?”

“She has this thing, like a… a spark, like--”

“Drive,” Ernesto muttered, without thinking. His fingers went to better tune his guitar, while Héctor nodded, brightening up.

“Yes, exactly! She wants to accomplish something - start her own business someday - and she’s ready to work for it, and--”

And she won’t let anyone tell her she can’t do it.

“-- and I’m sure she can do anything she wants to do, she’s just like that, you know?”

“... Guess I know someone a bit like that,” Ernesto conceded, and tuned out any further gushing from Héctor’s part. All right, so maybe he could sort of see Héctor’s point with Imelda; she had ambition and drive and wouldn’t let anybody dictate what she could or could not do, and he could admire that. Plus she had turned out beautiful, which in his not-so-humble opinion helped.

There was hardly any pretty girl in Santa Cecilia Ernesto hadn’t hit on, often with some success, but not her. He had the uncomfortable feeling it would result in rejection; while he’d been rejected before, it was never a big deal because to each their own and some just have no taste.

With Imelda, he suspected it might be different. He suspected it might actually hurt, and maybe it would be best to just… not find out whether or not it would be the case.

It was just stupid. He would make a point to ignore her until it went away, that was all. Not that Héctor behaving like a crushing puppy helped, but that would pass, too; she was not his type. He’d either let go of his crush, or be burned, whine a little, and then move on. Simple as that.

Héctor couldn’t possibly be her type.

***

“What’s eating you?”

“Gah!”

Ernesto recoils, the phone flying out of his hands. It slides across the table, and Imelda catches it before it falls off. Ernesto has precisely half a second to hope she didn’t get a look at the screen before she hands it back to him, an eyebrow raised.

“Who’s María del Carmen?”

“A potential date,” Ernesto mutters, snatching the phone from her hand. He hopes Imelda isn’t going to press the matter, but of course she does.

“You can invite her to the wedding. You can still pick a guest to come with you.”

Yes, great first date idea. Sitting there with a stranger to watch you marry my best friend.

The thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, but Ernesto manages to fake a laugh convincingly enough. “Hah! Not my idea of a first date,” he says, swiping left as discreetly as possible before he locks the screen. “How’s Héctor?”

“Better, I think. Contrite enough. They’re keeping him under observation for the night.”

“Ugh. Here goes the plan to drive back this evening.” Ernesto makes a face. “How did you get here, anyway? We had the car.”

“I got a taxi.”

“How much did it cost--”

“Don’t ask. I’m doing my best not to think of that,” Imelda says, and they both chuckle.

“Heh. Fair,” Ernesto concedes. “There is a motel right by. I’ll pay for two rooms. Before we go, can I offer you a--” he pauses, and turns to glance at what the small café has to offer. He makes a face. “... A coke, I guess?”

“I’d like that. With ice and lemon, thanks,” Imelda says, then leans forward. “Are you all right? You looked odd back there. Not food poisoning odd, but--”

“I’m fine,” Ernesto says, waving his hand dismissively. “Worried about the idiota I got myself as my best friend, I guess. I’ll get you that coke, and then we go get some sleep.”

They drink their cokes under the franky depressing neon lights of the hospital’s café, making small talk about the weather and music and whatnot; to Ernesto’s relief, no mention is made of the upcoming wedding. They drive-- well, Imelda drives them to the motel, all without incident.

Then, of course, the universe just has to make a big fat joke at his expense.

“Only one room left, I’m afraid.”

Ah, for fuck’s sake.

“I’ll take that for her. I’ll go sleep in the car,” he adds, holding out his hand for the key. She hesitates, glancing at guy behind the desk.

“No other rooms at all?”

“I’m afraid not. But it does have twin beds, if that suits you…?”

“Absolutely not,” Ernesto snaps at him. “The keys. I’ll sleep on the backseat, plenty of space.”

“It’s two separate beds, I think I can put up with it for a few hour--”

Well, I can’t. Not for one minute.

“Share a room with the future bride of my best friend?” Ernesto tries to grin like he finds the thought funny. “No can do, señorita. That’s a recipe for disaster.”

“Oh, come on,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “You’ve seen too many movies. Héctor wouldn’t think for a second anything unbecoming happened.”

I know. That makes it worse.

“I’d really rather sleep in the car,” Ernesto insists. “Good form, no?”

A sigh, but she eventually relents and hands him the keys. “If you insist. But I won’t sit through endless complaints about your aching back during the drive back to Santa Cecilia, am I clear?”

“Crystal,” Ernesto says; somehow he manages to keep up the smile. He puts his card down to pay for the room and after a quick ‘goodnight’ he heads outside, breathing in the cool night air.

There is a bottle of beer beneath the passenger seat, much too warm to be really enjoyable, but he opens it and gulps it all down anyway, sprawled on the backseat of Héctor’s car. Within a week, the car will take the bride to church - bumps and scrapes and all - and then drive off the newlyweds towards their honeymoon, leaving him behind to watch them go. They will be back, eventually, but they will be man and wife and Ernesto will need to live with that.

They’ve been an item for years. He ought to be used to it. It shouldn’t keep him awake.

We would never work, he thinks, we'd drive each other insane within months.

That's probably true, he knows, and thinking like that usually helps. Not tonight.

He wishes he had another beer or two or twenty at hand.

***

“Are you drunk?”

“Drunk with happiness, yes!”

“A date, you.”

“Yes!”

“With Imelda.”

“Yes!!”

Ignoring the sting of what he refused to identify as jealousy, Ernesto frowned. “You’re joking.”

“I would never!” Héctor laughed and did a half-twirl that almost ended in a tumble. “On Saturday! There is this movie that came out on Día de los Muertos, according to the critics Hollywood didn’t butcher the whole thing too much, and she wants to see it and I want to see it and so--”

“I wanted to see it too! You said we’d--” Ernesto tried to protest, despite the fact no such thing was discussed and he wasn’t very interested in the movie anyway. But this time, maybe for the very first time, Héctor entirely ignored Ernesto’s words.

In the end, Ernesto just zoned out, telling himself it would be their only date, anyway. It would not last. It couldn’t last, and Ernesto would just let it run his course, only showing up at the end to help Héctor with his heartbreak, as any good amigo would do.

It was not their only date. Many more dates followed, then a relationship that, despite all the ups and downs, never caused the heartbreak Ernesto had expected. When Héctor decided to propose, his advice to wait fell to deaf ears; when he returned with a smile from ear to ear to let him know she had said yes, his words of congratulations and jabs about marriage being the end of carefree life sounded dull to his own ears.

But he said them anyway and, when Héctor asked him to be his best man, he immediately accepted. He had to.

It was what any good amigo would do.

***

“I think I’ll write a song about the past two days.”

“Oh?”

“El Chorizo Envenenado!”

“It doesn’t sound especially promising.”

Sitting on the couch with a book in his hands while Ernesto stays sprawled on the armchair - his back is killing him and he’s exhausted after barely sleeping, so he’ll take some time to recover at Héctor’s place before he goes home - Héctor pouts.

“And that is why I’m the songwriter,” he mutters, gaining himself a scoff and little else. Ernesto is half-considering a nap when the door opens and Imelda walks in, fresh out of the shower, wet hair covered with a towel and wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe that is too large to belong to anyone but Héctor. It should be the most unflattering attire imaginable, but she looks beautiful in it because of course she does.

It would be a good time to leave, but Ernesto finds he cannot tear his eyes away as she sits next to his best friend - the love of her life, he can see it so clearly now, in the soft look she gives him and the way she rests her head on his shoulder.

“What are you reading?”

“Marriage for dummies,” Héctor replies, and she laughs softly, a sound Ernesto cannot quite recall hearing before. Héctor must have heard it many times, will hear it many more times.

This is meant to last, he can tell it now. His best friend, and the woman he finds himself loving against all good judgment. And he’ll keep a smile on, be his best man and toast to their union, because that’s what a good amigo does and the show must go on even if something in his chest hurts so much he fears it might break. But he stays, pretending to be snoozing, watching them through eyelids barely cracked open, an intruder trying to get a glimpse of that beauty, to hear more of that secret laugh.

Maybe he should have tried, Ernesto thinks, seized his moment and asked her out first - but a voice in the back of his mind, much more practical, reminds him it would have made no difference; that even if he’d tried, the almost certain outcome would have been a no. There was never a moment to seize, and he isn’t sure whether that is supposed to make him feel better or hurt worse.

Somehow, it cuts both ways.

#pixar coco #ernesto de la cruz #imelda rivera #hector rivera #coco

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big-low-t · 4 years

Text

The Drive

He just wanted to get home. Not his real home, that was an hour and a half back down the highway. And maybe that wasn't even his real home anymore, he wasn't sure. He meant his family's home, his birthplace, his home state. The hills and valleys that always held him close and made him feel comfort he couldn't feel anywhere else. The rivers and streams sustained him, made him feel whole like no other place could.

He had crossed the state border about a half hour before. Going over the river always seemed to be a cleansing moment for him. He knew it was just psychological, but somehow crossing that state line usually made him feel instantly better, no matter what was going on in his insane life.

This time was different. He shed some tears when he crossed the line. When he saw that “Welcome to West Virginia” sign in the middle of the bridge. His face was still a bit moist.

Shut up. We all cry sometimes, don't we?

He tried not to think about the things that led him to be here, on this road, at two o'clock in the morning. But the last year seemed to be playing on repeat in his mind. The depression, the denial, the desire to die, her betrayal, the cheating, the lying. He often wondered why he hadn't just hung himself that night when he first learned how to make a noose with an extension cord. One of those big thick outdoor cords that could hold his weight. He figured you gotta do it right if you are going to go through with it. But he didn't.

He tried again to fight back the thoughts and the tears by turning up the car stereo. The songs playing were all mellow, by design, to try to keep him calm on this drive. Damn it though, it was really foggy this morning.

This part of the trip was usually fun, even if it brought some tension. The road was just two-lanes and it constantly went up and down and around curves. This area was all trees, mountains and the occasional farm on one side or the other. Prime country to see a deer, or worse yet, run into one with a vehicle. But damn he loved the feeling of going around those curves, seeing the trees buzzing by on the left and the right side. Hardly another vehicle in sight at this time of night, just the odd semi truck hauling goods across the country.

Another rise, another farm off to the left, he almost felt like the car lifted off the ground at the top of the hill before he went back down and then around another swerving part of the highway. The fog was getting even thicker and he was having trouble just seeing the trees along the side of the roadway.

The next curve he was certain the car ascended off the ground a bit. Was he really floating? What was happening? He strained to follow the road lines he could barely just see with the help of the car's headlights.

He wondered if it wouldn't be so bad to just drive up and float away at this point. Leaving everything behind him. The hurt. The pain. He didn't want to make the hard choices that needed to be made. He didn't feel he had the strength to take on the challenges that those choices would present him.

Damn it I just want to go home. See my family. See my friends. Breathe the mountain air. This would help heal him, right?

The next hill he went over the car stayed aloft and airborne longer than before. He felt a thump when the car came back down and the wheels hit the pavement. Holy shit, he thought, what the hell was that? Did he smell something burning?

The next hill was coming up, the fog was so thick he momentarily lost sight of the road lines. Once again the car rose up and the wheels shot up off the blacktop. He was really flying? He faintly heard his stereo playing as he looked up through the fog as the car went aloft higher and higher. Man, he thought, I really love that song.

He tried the steering wheel, it made the car veer to the right or the left when he turned it. How was this working? He floated onward and upwards to the point he didn't even think about it anymore.

He just went with it. Rising higher. He could see the treetops below him peeking out above the fog. Everything looked so peaceful from up here. He liked that, a lot. He smiled, maybe for the first time in what, maybe a week now, or two? A long time anyway.

Onward further until he could see the stars in the night sky. Glittering and gleaming up here above the fog, above the clouds. The night sky looked like one of those pictures he had always loved, with the Milky Way cutting across the heavens. He wanted to take a picture like that someday. He steered to the right and saw the moon glowing off in the distance.

For what seemed like hours he kept moving up through the sky and into outer space. The part of him that knew this was impossible had stopped working in his brain. All he felt now was a muddied bliss. His mind felt a bit hazy but it didn't matter now, wasn't that Mars up ahead of him? His car stereo still played on, another great song. This was the trip of a lifetime.

A loud bang against the side of his car shook him slightly from his gaze at the red planet. An asteroid? I hit an asteroid? He saw several more space rocks coming at him and swerved quickly to avoid them. He sped away from Mars and towards Jupiter.

He could see the eye of the big planet, that ever swirling storm. How many years did the scientists say that storm had raged? He wondered why his life was so similar to that big chaotic mass of nature's wrath on the planet below. Why would his storm never end? Maybe the rings of Saturn hold my salvation, he thought and flew ever-onward through the darkness.

He was startled again, not by asteroids this time, but by flashing lights in the distance. Aliens? This can't be real, can it? What was that crackling sound he heard? Was there voices? He felt his body lifting away from his car and a blurry darkness was taking away his sight...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“...right over here Officer,” said the truck driver. “I saw the skid marks on the highway and the headlights down into that ditch.”

“Thanks for calling it in, I've got to try to get down there and see how bad it is, if you can stay up here and make sure the guys in the ambulance know where to go,” said the highway patrolman.

“Will do Sir,” said the trucker nervously as he glanced down at the officer as he slowly worked his way down the embankment towards the car.

Down in the ditch the crumpled vehicle was smoking slightly, the smell of antifreeze and oil hung in the air. The tail lights were still on, one of the headlights was out. The stereo was still playing music. Right now it was playing the song “Never Lose That Feeling” by the band Swervedriver, but the patrolman didn't know that and frankly did not care, he was a country music fan, and he was more concerned about the broken windshield, the blood and the shards of glass everywhere....

Oh, and the broken and lifeless body that was sprawled upon the hood.

His radio cracked to life “...unit is on the way, ETA about ten minutes...”

He replied “tell them to take their time in this fog, there is no hurry now” as he checked for a non-existent pulse.

“You're home now,” said the officer to the body as he took his hat off and bowed his head.

He would never know how right he was when he said it.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Somewhere in the night sky he traveled onward. His mind now clear. His heart healed. The path ahead of him open for anything and everything he ever wanted. He was free. The stars were his playground. The planets his family. Music was playing on the journey... and every song... was the best song he had ever heard.

“So deceiving Never lose that feeling So revealing Never lose that feeling So far reaching Never lose that feeling So deceiving Never lose that feeling... Feeling Past believing Never lose that feeling So revealing Never lose that feeling”

Lyrics quoted from Swervedriver - “Never Lose That Feeling”

#big-low-t #story #the drive

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phantoms-lair · 5 years

Text

Based on this by @cirilee

None of them really had any time to process what happened. It seemed one moment they were trying to figure out why Shaggy and Scooby never showed up at school, the next a strange wizard named Vincent had appeared, been blatantly supernatural, apparently because he didn’t have time to convince them gently, then teleported them to a creepy old house in the Himalayas.

Any thought of protest died when they saw Shaggy in a wheelchair, looking like he was a half step away from the grave.

“Like, sorry guys,” Shaggy said with a weak smile.

“Sorry for what?” Daphne asked, running to his side.

“For not getting help the moment he realized there was a problem.” Vincent had his arms crossed and was looking annoyed.

Shaggy shrugged. “Like who could I ask? Last couple of times you didn’t exist or were an actor.”

Vincent didn’t budge. “And you had eighteen years this iteration.”

“Yeah, that’s on me.” Shaggy admitted. “But this is usually the best part and I was hoping to get through it.”

“The best part of what?’ Fred asked, confused.

“Of us, man. Of life. Of having the freedom to go out and explore before responsibility pulls us down.”

Vincent put a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Perhaps you should let me explain. I gave you a lot to process.” “I know, and, like, I think I understood a third of it. But I should at least tell them what I did know. I should have done it before. Just didn’t know how.” He shifted a bit uncomfortably. “This...isn’t the first time we’ve done this.”

“I am fairly certain this is the first time a wizard kidnapped us.” Velma pointed out, wondering what was happening to her friend.

“No. Well, first time this go round. That’s the thing. All of this, being friends, growing up, solving mysteries, we’ve done it so often.” He shuddered and Scooby curled up to him, whining softly.

“This isn’t important. We need to get you to a hospital.” Velma insisted. Strange impossible stories could wait.

“A hospital can’t help, Velms. Only thing that would happen is freaking out the staff.”

“This is magic? A curse?” Daphne surprised, trying not to think of what would traumatize a hospital staff.

“That’s what I thought, but this is beyond magic. So, like I said, we’ve done this before. Became friends, grew up, solved mysteries, and then I died.”

Scooby crawled into his lap and his friends were rendered speechless.

“I didn’t stay dead,” Shaggy quickly added. “I just remember wanting to stay with you guys more and...everything started again. We were kids, we grew up, we solved mysteries. Things were a little different though. Our families, the world itself. And it happened again and again. It was like reincarnation, only across different versions of Earth and we were always together. Some were pretty great others...not so much. You never remembered, but it was okay. We were together. Then,” He looked down. “Like two or three lifetimes ago I starting feeling not so great. And things seemed to be getting weird, like the world was more malleable or something. But I didn’t really have anyone to go to, not till this lifetime. I figured I’d track down Vincent after graduation, but I ran out of time.” He looked at the wizard, as if passing the story off to him. “While I disapprove of Shaggy waiting this long to get help, as he apparently met other magical versions of me and said nothing, I was able to determine what had happened. And it’s very unprecedented.” Vincent took over. “Shaggy mentioned the worlds you were reincarnated were different. From what I surmise, you’ve been reincarnating across the multiverse, and the multiverse itself is key to what been going on.”

“Go on,” said Velma in a tense tone.

“The multiverse is truly infinite, new worlds are brought into existence, with their own magics and physics. And each time a new world comes into existence a new deity is created with it. In order for said deity to truly understand their purpose they’re incarnated as a mortal to live out a life in another reality before ascending and taking their place. It has happened countless times before and will happen countless times again. But only once has said deity lived their mortal life and, instead of ascending, forced himself into reincarnation, dragging four mortal souls along with him.”

“Wait.” Fred interrupted. “Wait wait wait wait. You’re telling us that Shaggy is a...a god?”

“A nascent one, like a chick in an egg.” Vincent confirmed. “Albeit one that has put off hatching for what would seem to amount to centuries. While over time his power has grown, spilling out around him, the shell -so to speak- has not gotten any smaller.”

“I believe your exact words were ‘My power has become too vast for this flesh vessel to contain’.” Shaggy quoted.

“And you had no idea what I meant when I said it, so I was trying to be more clear.” Vincent shot back. “But the long and short of it is: Shaggy’s power is killing him. He doesn’t have much time left.”

“But you said he’s a god! If he’s immortal how can he die?” Fred asked, distraught. He needed to fix this, how could he fix this?

“His body isn’t.” Velma said in realization. “God soul, mortal body. The chick has gotten too big and it’s breaking through the egg. It’s going to-” She cut off as she realized what was happening. What always happened when too much pressure was put in a vessel unable to contain it. No wonder he said the hospital would be traumatized; he wasn’t just going to die -he was going to explode.

“Still, we’re not going to let you die that easily, Norville!” Daphne sounded close to snapping. “If the problems that you have too much energy, then let us share your power. We’ve been together over several lifetimes and we’re not leaving you now.”

“Apparently you’d all need to, like, marry me intergalactically.” Vincent had tried to explain it to his a number of times before they’d settled on that.

“Heck yes!” “Yeah, sure.” “Alright”

Shaggy blinked in surprise, a blush spreading over his cheeks. There had been no hesitation, even joy. “Really?”

“Honestly, even if your life didn’t depend on it, it feels good. It feels right.” Fred shrugged.

“I don’t remember the past lives we lived together, but when we met in this one I knew on sight that you guys were the most important people I would even meet and that I belonged with you.” Daphne explained.

“I don’t like this business with magic, past lives, and god souls, but honestly same.” Velma shrugged a bit uncomfortably. “All of you are so important to me. I don’t understand how a wedding is going to save you, but I’d be happy to marry you, all of you, even without such a need.”

“You guys...you can’t…” Shaggy shook his head. “I stole your souls from your home reality because I was too selfish to let you go.” Sure he didn’t understand what he was doing, but he had done it. “You guys were totally supposed to go to heaven, get the whole eternal reward thing and I just kept dragging you away. If you do this, there’s no afterlife ever. No reunion with lost loved ones. Just eternity as an immortal. This is, like, really really permanent. I can’t take that from you again.”

“This is not a simple wedding. It is a joining of selves, allowing his divinity to spill into your soul.” Vincent explained. “It will allow him to survive to the natural end of this lifetime, but either way this is the end of the cycles. Whether it is today or many years down the line, Shaggy can no longer put off his ascension. He’s only managed this long because his bond with Scooby Doo had already acted as a siphon. But if you accept, the divinity will change you, even in this lifetime. You’ll be different, and when you die you’ll ascend with him, forever separated from this and every other world you’ve ever called home. A ‘divorce’, so to speak, would shred both of your souls. Hera would have ditched Zeus ages ago otherwise.”

“TODAY!!!” Daphne shrieked. “Shaggy’s going to die today?!?!”

“Shaggy is not going to die, because we are going to marry him and live out our lives here before going to do God stuff.” Fred crossed his arms as if daring Shaggy or Vincent to argue. “You can’t,” Shaggy said weakly. “I stole you. It’s not right.”

“Shaggy, would you say we deserve to be happy?” Velma asked.

“Like, of course!” How could she think otherwise?

“We’ll, you’re my happiness, along with Fred and Daphne, so I’ve got two words for you.” She looked him in the eye. “I do.” Velma leaned down and gave him a long deep kiss.

There was a sudden flare of near blinding blue light that seemed to emanate from Shaggy before it flowed through the kiss into Velma. She broke the kiss, laughing almost giddily. “Oh wow. That is a feeling.”

Shaggy seemed to be struggling to catch his breath, but on the whole, looked healthier than he’d been since they got here. “Like, yeah.” was all he could add, dumbstruck.

Fred and Daphne shared a look and nodded. Fred leaned over the wheelchair while Daphne scooped Velma up in her arms. “I do,” they both said together, giving their loved ones the same kiss Velma had before.The blue light flaring in both Shaggy and Velma and spreading to the other two. They then switched partners, and then came together, affirming and reaffirming their love.

“Raggy?” Scooby asked, looking up at his best friend.

Shaggy always knew what Scooby meant. He hadn’t said anything, after all. Scooby was asking if he accepted it. Accepted his dearest ones’ love and promise to be with him, to even give up being human for him. And it was selfish, but…

“I do! I do! I do!” Shaggy leapt from the wheelchair, no longer needing its aid. He grabbed the three of them, his dearest friends, now and forever his spouses. He had only wanted a chance to explain and say goodbye. But they had stayed with him. They had saved him and even loved him.

The blue divine light flowed freely from all of them, even Scooby. It wasn’t a flare of power, but a manifestation of pure happiness.

Wherever they were in the multiverse, as long as they were together, it was home.

#Scooby Doo #Cirilee #PolyUltra Gang #Is this okay?

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roseyserpents · 5 years

Text

Back To You

Pairing: Scott Reed x reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, fighting, alcohol

Characters: Scott Reed, Sheri Holland, Montgomery De La Cruz, Bryce Walker, Zach Dempsey

Word count: 1,757

Summary: You and Scott take a break but you find yourself wanting him back

A/N: this is based off the song Back To You by Selena Gomez! This is also the first 13rw fic and fic on this account I'm posting!

Took you like a shot

Thought I could chase you with a cold evening

Let a couple years water down how I feel about you

It was bad. Sure, throughout your year and a half relationship you'd had fights with Scott, but none had been this bad or ended this messy. He'd gotten mad at you for tutoring Bryce and Zach when they'd asked for your help because you were in AP classes, and you'd countered with your anger about him being gone to much and ditching you in the recent month. They were small problems but that was all that took for the stress that'd been building up to boil over. This put to much strain on your relationship so you decided to take a break. The week following the breakup and still more after you'd spent at parties getting drunk to keep your mind off of your feelings even though you knew it wasn't good for you. You were mad. You were so mad at Scott for everything he'd done to you and for making you cry over him.

And every time we talk

Every single word builds up to this moment

And I gotta convince myself I don't want it

Even though I do

"Y/n!" An all to familiar voice calls out from the other end of the hall. You quickly close your locker ignoring the fact you'd left your folder for your next class and try to get away from the situation you'd been avoiding. But, against your attempt to run, someones hand lands on your upper arm, gently turning you to face them as you let out a heavy sigh. Scott stands in front of you, your heart dropping to your feet as you catch his eyes for the first time in more than a month.

"Hey," He breathes with a faint small as if he'd forgotten what he was going to say. "I was wondering if you'd want to go to Monet's to, um, catch up sometime?"

You wanted to say yes. Your heart yearned for his touch again, to spend time with him and see the very smile he had plastered on his face now everyday. But your brain was telling you that he'd hurt you, so what's to stop him from doing it again if you went back to him?

"No." Your brain answers despite your heart trying to yell over it. Before you can think you walk away with a small strut in your step towards you next class leaving a hurt Scott behind as other students move around him like water around a stone.

We never got it right

Playing and replaying old conversations

Overthinking every word and I hate it

'Cause it's not me

You and Scott lie on the hood of his car next to the lake, watching the waves gently lapping up onto shore with milkshakes in your hands.

"Do you love me?" You ask suddenly, turning to look at the blonde. He suddenly coughs, choking on the milkshake in his mouth as he sits up and spits it into the grass. You sit up, supporting your weight with your hand as he turns back to you.

"What?" He asks after recovering, meeting your amused gaze.

"Do you love me?" You repeat, more nervousness in your words than the first time.

A smile spreads on Scott's face as he leans closer to you. "I," He says, pecking the end of your nose. "Love," He places a kiss to your cheek. "You." Finally his lips land on yours before he pulls away, still leaning over you with the goofy grin you'd grown to love-

"It's not my fault I wanted to be around someone after you keep skipping out on our dates!" You yell at Scott, a finger jabbing at his chest.

"You could've gone to Sheri or Chloe!" Scott counters, looming over you using his height as an advantage. "You didn't need to go to my friends!"

"Well your friends are a lot better at being around than you are!" Your face was turning red and your throat going scratchy from yelling so much. You were surprised nobody had come over asking if someone was being murdered.

"I'm your boyfriend! Not Bryce and Zach!"

"They'd probably make a better boyfriend than you are!" The second the words left your mouth you couldn't believe them, and apparently neither could Scott because his face falls and it's silent for a moment, both of you trying to process your next actions.

"Fine. If you'd rather be with one of them than me, go ahead." He says in a normal volume but hurt, anger, and venom laced deep in each syllable. "We need to take a break." He grabs his jacket off of your couch and walks towards your door, emotions radiating off of him as you follow him out of your house.

"Good!" You yell from your doorway as he walks towards his car. "I don't need you or your fucking relationship!" With that you slam the door shut before turning and sliding down it. The emotions spill over inside of you as tears streak your face and you curl up against the door, crying into your knees for the rest of the night.

"Y/n?" Sheri asks, pulling you out of your own head.

"Huh?" You reply, pulling your hand away from your face to face her.

"I said, are you okay? You look... Out of it." She asks, concern plastered on her face.

No. "Yeah I'm good, just didn't get a lot of sleep." You lie.

And what's the point in hiding?

Everybody knows we got unfinished business

And I'll regret it if I didn't say

This isn't what it could be

"Sure." She says, sitting down next to you. "Tell me what's up. Is this about Scott?"

You sigh, giving a nod before resting your chin on your desk.

"Practically the whole school knows about your break." She continues, putting air quotes around the word "break". You wanted to tell her how much you missed him, how much you wanted him back or to atleast heal things, but you don't.

"I'm just mad at him. I can't handle seeing him." You lie again. You don't know why you weren't confiding in Sheri for once. You knew this situation could be different, but part of your heart and part of your brain wouldn't let you so easily go back to Scott.

She gives you a look as if she could see right through your lie but walks away to her seat across the room leaving you back to your thoughts. How could you say that to him? How could you tell the person you loved and needed the most that you didn't need them? You hated that he had this effect on you now, turning you into a person you didn't know. He'd said it, you needed a break. He agreed it wasn't working.

You needed to find something to get him off your mind - or someone.

I wanna hold you when I'm not supposed to

When I'm lying close to someone else

You're stuck in my head and I can't get you out of it

You'd gone to one of Bryce's parties the following night, gotten drunk out of your mind, and woken up around four A.M. in a bed with Montgomery De La Cruz passed out next to you.

A groan falls from your lips as you stand up, wrapping the sheet from the bed around yourself as you slowly wipe a hand across your face. You pull his hand off of your waist before sitting up, Montgomery stirring by you but not waking up.

You found yourself wanting it to be Scott lying next to you and not someone you hardly knew. You wanted to wake up in his arms again instead of with a hangover from trying to forget him. But, no matter what you did he was stuck in your head. He kept coming up again and again no matter how much you didn't want him too.

If I could do it all again

I know I'd go back to you

You'd made a decision that Sunday night. You knew you could turn everything around, you just needed the confidence to do so. It'd taken a lot of time for you to bring yourself to your decision, but you couldn't push down the need to go back to Scott anymore.

"Hey, Scott!" You yell out as soon as you set foot into school, finding him at his locker before he could run away.

He closes his locker before tightening his jaw and turning to you. "What." He says, more of a statement than a question.

What was there wasn't sure

But I'd go back to you

I know I'd go back to you

"I'm sorry. For everything." You sigh, looking to your feet. "We ended things badly. The last month before the fight was bad and nothing seemed sure about it. But, I miss you. I know I pushed you away before but I shouldn't have."

Scotts expression softens slightly as he looks at you with questioning eyes.

You can break my heart in two

But when it heals, it beats for you

I know it's forward, but it's true

"And I'm not gonna lie, what you said hurt me, it broke my heart. But when I got over it I found myself wanting to be around you again. I know that sounds stupid and bold or whatever, but it's the truth." You continue. "It's fine if you just wanna be friends or acquaintances, but I need you in my life again it's been so horr-"

"Y/n." Scott cuts you off. You look up and his scowl from before has been replaced by his smile that lights up the entire room. "I would love to get back together with you." As he talks he'd slowly stepped closer to you, his hands going to your waist. You grin as you snake your arms around his neck pulling you both closer to each other.

"I'm sorry for being such an idiot." You sigh, your hands laced in the hair at the nape of his neck.

"You might be an idiot, but you're my idiot." Scott says before leaning down, connecting his lips with yours. Electricity sparks as warmth spreads through you, all the negative thoughts from the last two months disappear and are replaced with one one simple thought:

You were back with Scott and that was all that mattered.

#scott reed x reader #scott reed #13 reasons why season two #13 reasons why moodboard #13 reasons imagine #13 rw #13 reasons why #13 reasons why fanfiction #13rw fanfic #bryce walker #zach dempsey #sheri holland #monty de la cruz #go back to you by selena gomez

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blessed-but-distressed · 5 years

Text

#FindEmmaSwanAFriend

Feeling left behind by her more successful, settled friends, Emma Swan moves to Scotland on a whim. Sure, she’s winning at Instagram, but something is still missing from her new life. Fortunately, her friends back home are on it. #FindEmmaSwanAFriend goes viral. Enter Killian Jones, reluctant columnist, who is on the hunt for his newest subject, and may just have found her. CS AU

***

also on ff.net and ao3

***

Tagging: @katie-dub , @wholockgal , @kat2609 , @whovianlunatic, @optomisticgirl, @ladyciaramiggles, @the-lady-of-misthaven, @emmaswanchoosesyou, @ilovemesomekillianjones, @biancaros3, @cigarettes-and-scotch-whisky, @ms-babs-gordon @ab-normality, @andiirivera, @fangirl-till-it-hurts, @onceuponaprincessworld , @natascha-remi-ronin, @kiwistreetswan and whoever else asks me.

***

A/N: Part 2 of 2. Hope you packed your crash helmets. This is a bumpy ride. Eternal thanks to @fraddit for holding my hand as I put this together. Maybe it’s not ready yet, but it’s spent enough time living rent-free in my head.

***

Killian

August W. Booth. Killian would never admit it, but he knew the name, even before Emma Swan had tumbled into his life. He’d remembered seeing it grace the spine of a book on the shelf of his old flat, back in London. He’d remembered asking Milah about it, and he remembered her non-committal response.

“It’s alright,” she’d said, flopping down onto the bed beside him. “If you’re into Americans who read too much Kafka travelling the world to ‘find themselves’.” She’d even done the air quotes, and he’d smiled at her honesty.

And in the months after she was gone, and he was left with nothing but her meagre possessions, he’d picked it up and read it cover to cover, in an effort to be closer to her.

But it really was just a book.

Killian didn’t want to ‘find himself’ on a Thai beach. Or follow in the footsteps of obscure European authors. Or even consume a questionable amount of hallucinogens. He had just wanted to wake up in a world where Milah still slept soundly beside him.

He’d donated the book to a charity shop on Camden High Street, along with most of Milah’s clothes.

He’d never imagined he’d meet the author. Or that he’d kind of hate him.

How to describe that first moment with August W. Booth? At first, Emma had been beside him, her hand held tight to his sleeve as they waded into the party throng. And then, with something that sounded like a choked sob, she was gone.

It was only when the crowd parted that he saw the spectacle for himself. Emma Swan, laughing. Damn near hysterical laughing, having launched herself at this bearded bloke in cable knit jumper. He’d barely caught her, but he had, even if he’d knocked over his beer in the process.

“Emma Swan, as I live and breathe!” The man, August, had declared, lifting her off her feet. “Have you gained weight?”

She smacked him on the shoulder, but her smile was still beatific, even as he set her back down. Killian had never seen that smile. Not once.

“Lost it, actually. Didn’t you hear? I run now. Like, habitually.”

“Now I come to think of it, Ruby did say something about that. But I assumed she was joking.”

Another smack. Another round of smiles as they talked over each other, trying to make up for lost time.

Killian was not a wallflower by nature, but something about the ready intimacy of their chatter kept him on the periphery, hovering awkwardly by a potted palm he highly suspected to be fake. He was just reaching out his hand to check when he felt a tug on his prosthetic.

She was dressed like Hilary Clinton, her blonde wig drunkenly askew. “Why’s your hand made of plastic?” she asked with all the tact of someone six vodka cranberries deep. “It is real? That’s sooo weird. Did you have some, like, terrible accident?”

Her accent was American, but much more the bubbly Southern Californian version than the one he was used to. He didn’t find it endearing.

“Hilary!” he greeted her with a forced smile, snatching his prosthetic back from her grasp. “Long time no see. How’s Bill? Still a complete cad?”

Her face was a picture of confusion. “My name is Hadley?” She looked down at her pantsuit, and then it seemed to dawn on her. “This is just a costume,” she explained slowly. “You know, for the party?”

“You don’t say! My apologies, Hadley. I mistook you for a woman of substance.”

It was not the most gentlemanly brushoff, but it did the trick.

Hadley squinted up at him for a few long moments, before tipping the rest of her drink down his front. “You’re a real jerk, you know that?”

He was, and he did. And thanks to her dramatics, the rest of the room were fast becoming aware of the fact too, even as her (seventh?) vodka cranberry seeped miserably into his shirt. He looked up just in time to catch Emma’s raised eyebrows as she approached, August following in her wake.

“Uh, do I want to know what you said to Hilary to piss her off?” she asked.

“Nothing she hadn’t already heard on the campaign trail,” Killian muttered, fanning his shirt away from where it was sticking fast to his chest. “I don’t know what it is about this party, Swan, but it doesn’t much approve of our outfits.”

Emma opened her mouth to retort, when a hand suddenly appeared in front of Killian’s face, attached to a weaselly-looking novelist.

“August Booth. You must be the Graham Humbert I’ve heard so much about?”

And he thought having a drink thrown over him would be the most aggrieving event of the evening.

“Killian Jones,” he corrected, delivering a slightly firmer handshake than necessary. “And I’m leaving.”

***

I feel like that could’ve gone better. ES

Are you okay? ES

Jones? ES

I’ve had worse things thrown at me than a girly cocktail, Swan. I dare say I’ll survive. KJ

Probably. But that’s not what I meant. ES

You should probably get back to your surprise visitor. He came a long way to see you. KJ

August is big boy. He can handle himself for a few minutes. Are you at home? ES

No. KJ

So you’re walking around at large with a huge purple stain down your shirt? ES

Apparently so. KJ

That’s not weird at all. ES

How fortuitous then, that I’m not your problem. KJ

Wow. Okay. I guess you’re not. Fuck you very much. ES

***

It was a foolish idea. He had reminders set on his phone that pinged at regular intervals to remind him of exactly how foolish an idea it was. And yet, there he was anyway. Half a bottle of Captain Morgan later, standing outside Tink’s building in Newington, leaning on the buzzer.

The intercom chirruped into life. “If you don’t have a pizza, I don’t know you.”

He grinned, and leaned close to the speaker. “Margherita Cheese, extra olives.”

There was a pregnant pause. And then the front door buzzed open.

It wasn’t terribly late, by their usual standards. Barely past sunset, now they weren’t long past the solstice. And yet when Tink opened the door she was definitely wearing pyjamas. The kind one actually slept in, rather than entertained in.

Not that she seemed to care either way, tearing the pizza box from his hands with barely more than a nod in his direction. He followed her in anyway, and sat in her kitchen as she devoured half of it before coming up for air.

“Hungry?” he teased.

“My flatmate has us all on the Keto diet,” she shrugged by way of explanation. “It’s been hell. You know how many Greggs franchises I have to walk past on my way to work? It was only a matter of time until I cracked. But I’m glad it was you,” she crooned to the last of her pizza. “You were worth the wait.”

“I can’t decide if this is pathetic or adorable,” Killian mused.

“Definitely pathetic,” Tink declared, closing the box at last. “But you’re one to talk. You look rough as guts. And what did you get all over your shirt?”

He knew he should’ve stopped home to change first.

“Vodka cranberry, I believe.”

“Ooh,” she said, folding her hands under her chin. “The plot thickens. A deliberate attack?”

“It... may have been.”

She snorted. “You always know how to charm a lady, Jones. Until you don’t.”

“You never seemed to mind,” he reminded her, with a sly smile in her direction.

“Yeah, well,” she shrugged, before hooking a thumb in her direction. “Pathetic, remember?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he said silky, letting his hand come to rest on hers. “In fact, I seem to recall a rather impressive list of talents…”

Tink slid her hand out from under his, to slap herself in the forehead. “So that’s what you’re doing here! It all makes sense now. You’ve had a shit night, and now you thought you’d show up, and what? I’d take you into my bedroom and help you forget all about it?”

“No, I just-”

“Just thought I was your standby girl. And I get it. I really do. Lord knows, I played the part enough times. But, honestly, Killian, wouldn’t you rather be with someone you’re actually crazy about? Like, oh, I don’t know...” She tapped her chin meaningfully, “...Emma?”

Something inside of him constricted at the sound of her name on Tink’s lips, and he didn’t like it. Didn’t want to think about her, or any of it. To hell with them.

“Who’s Emma?” he replied, leaning in again. “All I see is you.”

He saw the slap coming, but his reactions weren’t what they were.

“Hey, you know we’re friends, right?” she said, her words a direct contradiction to the stinging of his cheek. “I know we made a mess of things, but I thought we could still talk to each other. What’s going on? Because you’re not here because you find me completely irresistible.”

“Don’t I, love?”

It was a last ditch effort, but she wasn’t buying it.

“No, you don’t.” She sounded a little sad when she said it. “So start talking, or your drunken arse is getting an Uber. And you can start with what happened with Emma.”

“Nothing happened with Emma,” Killian muttered, looking around her kitchen for a possible source of alcohol. Any alcohol. So consumed was he by the search he didn’t catch Tink spiriting his phone from his pocket until she was already back in her chair again, scouring through his latest messages.

He really should’ve changed his passcode months ago.

“Oh, yeah, sure, I stand corrected,” she said, sliding it back across the table towards him with a roll of her eyes. “Nothing happened at all.”

Anger flaring, he snatched it back. “That’s really none of your business, love.”

“It is when you’re sitting in my kitchen, smelling like a distillery, and looking to use my body to distract you from your problems.”

God, he really was an arsehole. No wonder everyone he knew despised him. At last his eyes alighted on a stoppered bottle of brown liquid tucked away on top of the fridge. He stood up to retrieve it, and removed the stopper with his teeth.

He ducked down to take a whiff. Brandy. Perfect.

He found a pair of relatively clean glasses in the dish rack, and poured a generous measure into each.

“Peace offering?” he asked, slinging one of them in Tink’s direction.

Her glower didn’t abate any, but she accepted the glass anyway, wincing as her first sip hit her tongue.

“Needs water,” she said, handing it back with a cough.

Killian dutifully filled it up from the tap, and returned to his old place at the table. Just his performing this small act seemed to soften her somewhat, because the anger faded from her eyes.

“Look, maybe I’m wrong, but I’m trying a new thing. It’s called: ‘I only sleep with guys who are actually into me.’ And you know what? It’s going pretty good. I don’t wake up feeling like shit all the time.”

There was a novel concept.

“I’ve been an arsehole,” Killian summed up.

“Sometimes,” Tink agreed, with a comforting pat to his shoulder. “But I knew what your deal was. You get into bed with a guy with a missing hand and another girl’s name tattooed on his arm, you don’t really expect it’ll work out long-term.”

Now it was his turn to snort. “Aye, I suppose I deserved that.”

“You did,” she said, with an unapologetic grin. “But it’s okay. We were both just biding our time. Me until I grew some self-esteem, and you until your heart healed over a little.”

He wondered if it had. The wounds had been there so long, cut so deep, he rarely pressed them anymore. Rarely tested the strength of the scar tissue that had grown in their place.

“Well then,” he said, raising his glass. “To your self-esteem.”

Their glasses clinked, and he took his first sip. The brandy was thick across his tongue, but warming. A little burst of liquid courage to ask the question he’d been turning over and over in his mind since he’d glanced into Emma’s eyes on that settee, and felt things start to shift.

“You ever feel like there’s some things you just can’t get away from, no matter how hard you try?” he asked.

“My parents named me Tinker Bell. What do you think?” she replied, deadpan.

“Fair point,” he conceded, suddenly wishing he’d never opened his fool bloody mouth.

Unfortunately, Tink was not a mind reader and she didn’t let it go. “Are you talking about Milah?”

It had been so long since anyone had said her name aloud, he couldn’t entirely stop himself from flinching.

“Yes. No.” He shook his head. “Not entirely. I just… I’m not sure there’s ever really any overcoming the fundamental truths of our past.”

“Fundamental truths?” she asked, confused. “Like what?”

“Like, for example,” he began, wetting his lips with another syrupy slug of Brandy. “Everything my brother has ever done in his life has been to distance himself from our father. He’s got the upstanding, family man bit down. He’s a card-carrying member of the bourgeoisie. But when push comes to shove, they still made the exact same mistakes.”

She cocked her head to the side, considering this. “I mean, there’s a genetic component to addiction. And idiocy, arguably. But I don’t believe in that ‘sins of the father’ bullshit. You are who you make yourself into. I’m not saying it’s easy to break the pattern, but it’s doable.”

Killian wanted to believe that. But he wasn’t so sure he did.

“I couldn’t,” he pointed out. “When I lost Milah, I-” The rum in his stomach roiled, and he wondered if he was going to throw up. He wondered how long it would take for Tink to throw him out after. But after a moment, the feeling passed, and he realised she was still waiting for him to finish his thought. “I… I was no different,” he finished, feeling foolish.

“So you lost someone who mattered to you, and you handled it badly?” She shook her head. “That doesn’t make you your Dad. It makes you a person with a heartbeat.”

Killian stretched his prosthetic out on the table in front of him, considering the shiny piece of hardware. His most expensive souvenir from the shortest trip he’d ever taken.

“It’s not a liability, you know,” Tink said gently, nudging his prosthesis with her glass. “The hand. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

It was. And it wasn’t. Drunken Hilary’s ill-timed comments had certainly hit their mark, but it wasn’t just the hand. It was what it represented. The very permanent reminder that he was no longer entirely whole.

Most days, he was fine with that. It was much the same as his tattoo. He liked having that proof. However tenuous. However painful. It was a tether to a time he’d been truly happy, and it was a comfort to him, to know he hadn’t imagined it.

Lately, he’d begun to wonder if he’d held on too long.

Tink had said so herself, they’d never stood a chance. That hadn’t bothered him so much before, because he hadn’t really been looking for one. At least, not with Tink.

“I think I fucked up with Emma,” he blurted out.

“Oh, you think?” Tink sneered, downing the last of her glass.

“I… definitely fucked up with Emma,” he agreed, tipping his head back to finish his own drink. It burned, and he let it. He deserved it.

This time it was Tink who reached for the bottle, pouring them another measure each. She didn’t top this one off with water

“To bitchy texts,” she declared, holding her glass aloft. “Ruining everything.”

Killian drank to that.

“So, are we past the denial portion of the evening? You like her, right?” Tink had that twinkle in her eye again. The same one she’d had when she realised the stain on his shirt hadn’t been an accident. Dirt. That was all she wanted.

“I… sometimes.”

Tink rolled her eyes. “Way to commit”

“She’s attractive,” Killian shrugged. “And I find myself... attracted.”

Tink blew a raspberry. “Oh, c’mon. I read your column. You are not subtle. You might as well start drawing ‘KJ 4 ES’ hearts all over your homework.”

“They aren’t that bad,” Killian scoffed.

“Really? Have you read the comment section lately? People ship it!”

“People are little old ladies with too much time to spend on Facebook between soap operas,” Killian responded blithely. “I’m not overly concerned with their opinions.”

“How about mine? I saw you two sing an Elton John medley together, remember? That wasn’t attraction. That was fireworks.”

“It was stage theatrics,” he corrected. “Besides, it doesn’t matter now. She’s not the forgiving type. I’m not getting back in her good graces.”

“So why screw everything up in the first place? Jealousy?”

Yes.

Killian sighed. “A friend of hers is in town.”

“Like a special friend?”

“Like an old friend. Her oldest. She’s different with him. Happier. I’ve never seen her smile so much. I didn’t even know she could.”

“And you wish that was you? Making her happy?”

Yes.

Killian snorted. “She doesn’t want me.”

“How do you know? Did you ask her?”

As if that was something he could casually slip in a conversation somewhere. ‘Here’s your pint.. Oh, by the way, I quite fancy you and I was wondering if you fancy me back?’

“I think you’re forgetting she has already has a suitor.”

“Who? That Grant guy? They’ve been on what? Two dates? Two dates is not a relationship. Even I’ve spent more time with her than that.”

“Her friend certainly seemed to know all about him..” Killian swallowed back the bile in his throat at the thought.

Tink looked skeptical. “I doubt there’s much to know.”

“And I’ll remind you that this is all for naught, since we’ve established that I made a complete tit of myself, and she’s never speaking to me again.”

They both went silent at the thought. Tink refreshed their drinks.

“Well, then,” she said, offering up her glass for another impromptu toast. “Here’s to learning how to grovel.”

***

I’m sorry. I’m a complete arse. KJ

Yep. ES

***

Killian awoke in a strange room, his mouth dry and his virtue intact. It took him a moment of watching the dust motes dance in the shaft of morning light above his head to figure out exactly where he was.

Tink’s flat. It looked different by day. Shabbier. More lived in. He’d ended up on the sofa somehow, alone, twisted up in a crochet blanket into a strange configuration that would give him hell later. He was still wearing all of his clothes. Even the shirt with the cranberry stain down the front.

He could hear a radio somewhere nearby, giving a bleak update on the state of traffic on the City Bypass. Pipes shuddered, and soft feminine whispers punctuated the spaces between. The smell of burnt coffee grounds wafting up from the cafe downstairs, as the city woke to a new day.

He lay his head back down, and scrubbed at his face with his hand.

How many drinks had it been, all told? Eighty? Too many, he admitted to himself, as he surfed an accompanying wave of nausea. It was time to find a new crutch. He wasn’t a student anymore.

“Hey, you’re up.” Tink’s voice was fuel to his headache, but her tone was friendly. He sat up to see her standing in the doorway, holding a giant steaming mug in her hands. The underlying tension of their usual morning after routine was gone. She looked comfortable, in a way he’d rarely seen.

“That for me?” he asked, hopefully.

“It is. Thought it might help with the, ah, sore head.”

It did. From the very first sip, Killian felt the fog in his head clearing, and life returning to his limbs. “Thanks, love.”

She nodded, and stepped back. “I was going to let you sleep, but uh, well… your sister-in-law is here.”

Killian nearly dropped the mug. “Elsa’s here?”

“In the kitchen. She showed up about ten minutes ago. You want me to send her in?”

Elsa. In Tink’s kitchen. Like his life hadn’t been strange enough lately.

“What is she-?”

“She didn’t say. But she-” Tink hesitated. “She looks rough. Kind of upset, you know?”

No, he didn’t know. Elsa was the queen of poise. She rarely let her feelings show, least of all to practical strangers. Was it Liam? The boys? Dammit, where was his phone? Had something happened?

He was already on his feet when Elsa rounded the doorway. And even with the warning, it was still a shock to see her. She did, indeed, look rough. Her eyes were red-rimmed and glassy, her face noticeably puffy. She’d forgone the implacable facade she carried with her into the outside world.

“I’ll just… leave you two alone,” Tink said, backing out of the room.

He took a few steps towards Elsa, and then hesitated. “Is everyone-”

“Everyone’s fine. Alive. Healthy. I promise.” She tried for a reassuring smile, but it did nothing of the sort. “Robin told me you might be here. And I’m really sorry to intrude-”

“Elsa,” he said firmly, grasping her by the shoulders. “You’re never intruding. What’s happened?”

She bit her lip, but a single tear still managed to escape, unbidden, trailing down her fair cheek. “You know, I was beginning to think he was cheating on me?” She rolled her eyes heavenward, like that might stem the tide.

Oh god.

“He’d never.” Coming to Liam’s defence was automatic at this point. A reflex.

“No,” she agreed. “He’ll lie, and he’ll steal, and he’ll gamble, but he won’t cheat.” The sound might’ve been a laugh, if it wasn’t so bitter. So hard. “I know everything. About the money. Weaver. He called me at work, asked after the children. He knew their names. Where they go to school. He even knew the colour of Lachie’s scooter!”

Fear slid into his abdomen like a blade, sharp and cold. “He wouldn’t-”

“He won’t!” Elsa’s eyes flashed defiantly. “I paid him his money. I did everything he asked. Malcolm Weaver has no reason to come near any of us, ever again.”

It was a curious mixture of relief and anxiety, all muddled together, making Killian’s head swim. And somewhere in the mix, guilt. A sense of culpability. “I should’ve told-”

“No,” she said, eyes shining with renewed anger. “My husband should’ve told me. He should’ve trusted me, like I thought I trusted him. And he never should’ve put you in the position of having to lie for him. Or lie to your family. And your eye-”

Her tears were flowing freely now, and Killian’s grip on her arms tightened. “He’s an idiot. And he’s too proud for his own good. But you know he never wanted to hurt you, or disappoint you. You or the boys.”

“I know,” Elsa hiccuped. “But he did. Not because he made a mistake-” She physically swatted the idea away. “We all do that. But because he couldn’t be honest with me. That’s not the marriage I thought I had.”

“Had?” The way she’s said it, it sounded so… final.

Elsa swiped a sleeve across her cheeks, mopping up her tears. “I love him, Killian. You know I love him. But I can’t look at him right now. Anna asked me to stay. I’ll take the boys to New York for the summer. I don’t need them getting caught up in all this.”

“But you are coming back?” The lump in Killian’s throat had nearly doubled. As much as he’d resented being the black sheep in a flock of prize Merinos, he couldn’t quite imagine a life now without them.

Elsa smiled a dim smile. “This is home. And you Jones Boys, you’re home too,” she said, gathering him into a fierce hug. “And you’re always going to be a part of this family, with or without Liam. You know that, don’t you?”

It was an oft-repeated phrase of hers. Always trying to include him. Always trying to set him at ease. But it had never really rung true, before. He’d never been wholly convinced. They were a family, and he was an interloper. A squatter. He’d come to terms with that.

It wasn’t until he found himself crushed under the weight of Elsa’s furious embrace that he finally let himself see it. It wasn’t just Elsa’s bird bones that had a hold on him. It was her affection for him. Her love. The well ran deep, the force more formidable than he would have imagined. A sister’s love.

“Aye,” he said, letting his chin rest atop her shoulder. “I know that.”

They separated a bit, and she smiled her first real smile. “Took you long enough.”

“I’m a Jones,” he shrugged wryly. “We’re not the smartest.”

“No,” Elsa agreed, sweeping his hair from his forehead like he’d watched her do for Lachie and Callum a thousand times. A protective, nurturing gesture. Automatic as breathing. “And what did you do to your shirt?”

***

I am your problem. That is, I wish to be your problem. KJ

I confess: I was an almighty dickhead the other night. And if you don’t forgive me for that, I would understand. KJ

I made you feel as if you weren’t important to me, but that isn’t true. We’re friends. Good friends, I hope. I was angry at so many people that night, but none of them were you. You just got caught in the crossfire, and I can only apologise for that. I would like to do so in person, if you’d permit me. KJ

You give good apology, Killian Jones. But I know how good you are with words. ES

Not good enough, apparently. KJ

You know you made me feel like an idiot, right? For thinking we were friends? ES

We are friends. I’m just a spectacularly bad one, sometimes. I could blame the drink, or the stress of Liam’s secret, or Hilary’s tactless comments about my hand, or August not having a clue who I was, or even how fucking raw I was after sitting on that settee with you. But the truth is, sometimes I’m not quite the man I want to be. KJ

Maybe you don’t want to be friends with someone like that. I wouldn’t blame you. But I also think you understand, perhaps better than anyone, why we push people away without really meaning to. KJ

A little fucked up. A little scared. KJ

I understand. ES

I mean, I’m still kind of pissed. ES

But I get it. ES

Pint? KJ

Busy. I’m babysitting a novelist, remember? They’re very high maintenance. ES

Bring him along. Don’t you think it’s about time he learned of the wonder that is Open Mic Night? They moved it to Friday this week. KJ

Oh no. That can only end in heartbreak. ES

Heartbreak Hotel ;-) KJ.

Maybe next time, Jones. ES

I look forward to it, Swan. KJ

***

Emma and her novelist never made an appearance at Open Mic Night, though Killian spent half the night watching the door anyway. Not the entire night, mind. Robin was being far too entertaining for that.

His bereaved, beloved Robin, who’d taken the stage and was attempting a version of Wild Thing complete with a series of hip gyrations which made Eddie Vedder’s relationship with his microphone stand seem chaste.

A courtship display if Killian had ever seen one. All directed at the brunette in the front row, who looked decidedly more like the university administrator she was than Killian remembered last time he’d seen her. As Wonder Woman. Out of costume, she was better recognised as Regina Mills, University Vice-Chancellor.

Apparently they were dating now. And things were going well.

He could only confess to a little jealousy. Robin, more than anyone he knew, deserved a little happiness. Though when things started to get hot and heavy after Robin’s encore, Killian was only too happy to make his excuses.

***

Returning home to the big empty house in Merchiston brought mixed feelings. Killian still preferred his bed to the medieval torture device which was Tink’s sofa, but there was something unnerving about the place with the boys gone. Without laughter, or chaos, or the 60% chance of treading on a stray Lego brick with your bare feet at any given moment.

He was almost disappointed when he made it down the hallway unscathed in the dark. Right up until the moment he switched on his bedroom light, and found a dark clad figure standing directly before him.

His scream was not particularly masculine. Not as he stumbled backwards, and not as he picked up the nearest object and threw it with all of his might at his would-be attacker.

The boot caught the figure upside the head, hard enough to have him swearing. By the second string of curses, Killian realised his mistake.

“Bloody hell, Liam. Do you have a death wish?” he asked, dropping the second boot and coming to his brother’s side. “I thought I was about to meet my fucking maker.”

“My. Mistake,” Liam ground out through gritted teeth, hands still clutched to his head where Killian had struck his blow. Liam didn’t have to ask who he’d mistaken him for. Even after Elsa’s intervention, the spectre of Weaver’s goons loomed large in their imaginations.

And that’s when he saw it, lying on the rug where it had fallen during their altercation. The Galaxy bar.

Liam’s eyes followed his gaze, crinkling slightly despite his pain. “Happy St Killian’s Day, little brother.”

***

-KJ has sent you a document file-

What’s this? ES

I’m sure even you can recognise a Word document when you see one, Swan. KJ

I mean, why am I getting it? You’ve never sent me a copy of your column before it’s published before. ES

I’m trying something new. It’s called ‘consideration for other people’s feelings’. KJ

Huh. Seems kind of out of character for you. ES

I probably deserved that. KJ

You definitely did. ES

This column touches on some… more sensitive topics. I’d feel more comfortable having your approval before I took it to Liam. Would you please indulge me? KJ

Fiiiine. ES

... ES

Um. Wow. ES

Too personal. Understood. Consider it vanquished. KJ

No! I mean, yeah, it’s personal. But it’s… real. I never really… It’s good, Killian. And if Liam doesn’t have a problem with it, then I don’t have a problem with it. ES

You’re positive? Once I post this, there’s no taking it back. KJ

Positive. ES

As you wish. KJ

#findemmaswanafriend #cs au #cs ff #cs ff au #the long lost return #and a boatload of angst

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globrights · 5 years

Text

iasip s3 rated by macdennis content

The Gang Finds a Dumpster Baby: Dennis chides Mac for littering and not caring about the environment... Mac agrees to check out the global warming movie he watched bc Dennis kept talking about it even though everyone else was annoyed by it... they really are in love huh. 5.5/10

The Gang Gets Invincible: Mac and Dennis decide to try out for the Eagles because they want to figure out who’s the better football player. “Lincoln Field, baby!” This should be a generic ‘Two Bros Compete Over Sports Thing’ plot but Mac and Dennis are like... really gay about it. They mock Dee together for wanting to try out too and they’re being very misogynistic but the way they laugh at her is so cute. Mac leans in very closely to Dennis’ face when talking about how Dee could embarrass them in terms of running stamina. Mac and Dennis have a whole conversation with their dicks out as they stand over the Lincoln Field and Mac looks at... he looks at Dennis’ dick and asks him if he’s done peeing. And Dennis says no because Mac standing next to him and talking to him makes him nervous,,, okay,,, Mac and Dennis bicker over Mac’s makeup skills and Dennis’ cheekbones. Mac and Dennis sit together on the bus. They’re cutely excited about getting to see Donovan McNabb (even though they don’t) and they’re both... so bad at running. We stan unfit losers who cant even run for ten minutes!! “I liked your form on that, and I liked how you went before the whistle.” “Goddamn right!” “Nice!” Jesus Christ do these two even remember they’re supposed to be competing? Dennis essentially verbally sucked Mac’s dick for tackling his sister and told him he liked his FORM I know I quoted that but like... y’all seeing this... Also can we talk about how Dennis had this running monologue going on while he was running in the field to catch a football was this: “I’m going to make Mac look so bad. My form is perfect–“ like why is Mac always his first thought like it came before his narcissistic thoughts AND his throwaway comp het thought... sigh... 9/10

Dennis and Dee’s Mom is Dead: Mac and Dennis not realizing how gay they are is so fucking funny... Mac banging everyone’s sister but also calling them gross? Comp het rights! Dennis talking to men trying to invite them over to their party is literal actual flirting and he is so stupid for it. “Bro, aw, I just had the most perfect blonde guy slip right through my fingers. I mean, I had him in the palm of my hand and then... he was gone, you know what I mean? I mean, this guy would have been perfect for you. What’s up with this beefcake? Is he coming to the party, or what?” I can’t believe Dennis told Mac this. This sounds literally like they’re gays trying to find love in this world. Give me a break maybe!! Mac and Dennis having no idea that they were waving around a dick flyer that they literally cut themselves is peak metaphor for how in denial about their sexualities they were. Mac and Dennis get up to PEAK gay activity during their party because of how excessively Dennis touches Mac, he literally says “oh yeah, baby, nice one!” when Mac punches a glass frame, breaking it, and taking a random apple and biting into it. He’s so proud of Mac for the dumbest of shit. “You’re gonna tell everybody how we’re like those guys from Jackass, how we like to smash stuff and shove shit up our asses.” “That’s right! You’re gonna get so much shit shoved up your ass tonight!” Oh my god? Oh my god! Nothing says love like throwing knives at college students and basically putting them through emotional and physical torture! That’s just how it is! The symbolism and just everything in this episode pushes this up to a shocking 8.5/10

The Gang Gets Held Hostage: “Come here, come here, come here! I think I got a plan to get us out of this, but I need you to do the destroying thing. Can you?” “I’m a great destroyer.” “Are you kidding me, dude? You’re a born smasher.” “Yes! I’m a born smasher.” “I’m gonna work a different angle with the girl.” “Work those pecs.” “Yeah, exactly.” “Bump it.” “All right.” “Dennis.” “What?” “I love you.” 9/10

The Aluminum Monster Vs. Fatty McGoo: The whole “Dennis has an announcement!” scene is so cute and so funny. Other than that though, Mac and Dennis don’t get up to much, but Dennis does lie to him about dress orders which pushes Mac into Frank’s arms where he learns how to run a sweatshop. 4/10

The Gang Solves the North Korea Situation: Dennis wearing Mac’s duster with no shirt and the way Mac was staring at him? Good shit! 7/10

The Gang Sells Out: Mac and Dennis both somehow managed to get each half of Charlie’s shares in the bar. Charlie gets confused between ‘wood’ and ‘wooed’ and when Dennis tries to explain it to him Mac gives him a little “Dennis, just...” and Dennis goes “It’s a waste of time?” and like. That’s just really domestic of them actually. 6/10

Frank Sets Sweet Dee On Fire: Nothing v specific here but Mac calls Dennis a ‘club kid’ which is cute. 2/10

Sweet Dee’s Dating A Person: “You do have a great voice. You have, you know what man? You have an excellent voice.” The look of absolute BETRAYAL Dennis gives Mac when he doesn’t let him be in his band... wow. “We need a new front man.” “Right. You want someone with a good voice.” “Yes.” “Who’s attractive.” “Yes.” “Someone with charisma.” “Yes.” Somehow they both bottomed in this scene and Dennis wearing glasses is so fucking stupid. This episode would’ve gotten a perfect score if Mac didn’t kick Dennis out of the band for having slutty hips. Mac, those slutty hips are everything you’ve ever wanted in life. Wake up. 9.5/10

Mac is a Serial Killer: Dennis seems to REALLY take notice when it comes to Mac’s comings and goings from the apartment... His reactions to Mac getting laid seems like fake enthusiasm to me :/ 3/10

Dennis Looks Like a Registered Sex Offender: “Listen, I need your help, okay? You’re part owner of the bar, and you’re probably the only person that Mac listens to, and I need you to talk to him.” God Dee really out here knowing the truth huh. She really out here knowing everything, huh? 7/10

The Gang Gets Whacked Part 1: Mac and Dennis the cute little work couple who tries to fix the electricity and both having differing but wrong opinions about how to do it! Mac and Dennis the cute little work couple who ditch work to sit outside their bar in lawn chairs and drink beer together! Mac and Dennis the dumbass work couple who can’t understand the things people say to them because they drink a lot! 9/10

The Gang Gets Whacked Part 2: Mac slaps Dennis and rescues him from his life of prostitution. Wow that’s like a line straight from a very weird mafia AU. 7/10

Bums Making a Mess All Over the City: The way Dennis looks at Mac when he says “In fact, Special Agent Bauer and I plan to take care of a few things today...” Mm... Conspiring with your boyfriend and twin sister while holding your cat as you plan to take down your dad truly is the life huh. 5/10 because it was a great fucking look

The Gang Dances Their Asses Off: One of the most ridiculous things in this episode is the fact that Frank ranked Dennis and Mac second and third best after himself. Some other ridiculous things? Mac and Charlie’s talk about Mac’s... cream... which led to Mac saying this golden line “I’m always putting my cream all over his face.” Mac and Dennis have a dance off where Mac mimes himself sucking Dennis off. Repressed rights! It’s a crime that we didn’t get to see Mac and Dennis slow dance this episode, but still I’m gonna give it a 10/10, especially because Dennis and Mac had 25 pound kegs hanging off their chests and Dennis said “Come on, man! Give me some of that liquid hydraulic shit!” it sounds dirty somehow, anyway, Dennis wrapped his arms around Mac and they both fell to the ground. Very sexy.

#text #iasip #macdennis #its always sunny in philadelphia #rated

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virmillion · 5 years

Text

Ibytm - T minus 37 seconds

Masterpost - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - ao3

Words: 4,849

In the few days since Virgil walked out (on Logan, on the planning, on everything ), Logan has accomplished next to nothing. There were complications that kept the office closed a few days longer, all of which Logan spent pacing the apartment and sending countless unanswered texts to Virgil.

To get technical, Logan spent the first hour or so sitting at the table, motionless and staring at the papers. Next came a couple hours’ worth of punching the air, punching pillows, punching pretty much anything insignificant enough that it wouldn’t cause concern upon being punched. Following that little rage fest, Logan realized maybe he should try to talk to the runaway would-be groom. It started with one text every few hours, then once an hour, every half hour, and ultimately Logan threw his phone in a rage at (a carefully selected soft spot on) the couch and stormed into the bedroom to sulk.

Cut to now, where Logan is hunched over on the recliner and staring at his silent phone. Not one answer. Not even a read receipt. Nothing so small as social media activity, like a relationship status change from ‘engaged’ to ‘moving on and better for it.’ Logan briefly considers posting wanted signs around the building, but ultimately decides against it—mostly because his printer is broken. Finally, he snatches up his phone and does something he never would’ve expected of himself.

He calls Virgil.

This is an incredibly desperate last ditch effort, since Logan knows how much Virgil hates talking over the phone, but he’s desperate. The phone rings softly in his ear. One ring, two, three, four—

Someone picks up.

“Virgil, oh my gosh, I’m so glad I reached you, I didn’t mean any of it when I—”

The voice that interrupts him does not belong to Virgil. “Hey, Logan, this is Patton.”

“Patton? What—where’s Virgil? Why do you have his phone? Is Virgil okay? Is he hurt?”

“He—he’s fine, Logan. He’s perfectly alright, but he wanted me to ask you to, um, to stop texting him. And I guess to stop calling now, too. Please. Sorry.”

“Can you at least tell him—”

“No, I really—I don’t think that’s my place, really, to share whatever it is you want to tell him. I think you need to tell him yourself, and only when he’s ready to see you. On his terms.”

“Patton, I can’t exactly do that if I don’t know where he is.” There’s a kind of stilted silence, where only the muffled mumbles of Patton’s voice make it over the receiver. Logan can just barely hear the faintest s and t sounds, but that’s it.

A soft inhale makes it across and Logan’s breath catches in his throat, but his hopes immediately falter when Patton’s voice is the one to return. “He doesn’t want to talk right now.”

“But I need to talk to him about—”

“He doesn’t want to hear it. I’m sorry, Logan, but I really have to stick with what Virgil wants here. I think you need to hang up now.”

“Patton, wait, please, I need to talk to Virgil, I need him to hear—” Click.

Logan is pretty sure that’s the sound of his heart splintering into pieces. He glances at the list of recent calls, almost none of them outgoing. Micah, Cassidy, Micah, Joy, the main office line, Micah, Micah, Micah, Cadmium. Micah likes to call him with updates about the local restaurant scene. Logan holds back tears as he switches over to his recent texts, all to Virgil. He slumps on the couch, reaching out a hand to steady himself with every passing Cadmium, Cadmium, Cadmium, a never-ending list chronicling three years that he threw away in a few seconds because he didn’t agree with Virgil’s career choices and drove away the only person who seems to actually like talking to him or tolerate—

Logan switches to his contacts list. It’s not terribly long, and it matches his incoming calls almost point for point. The only additions are his parents and Roman. Alex refuses to give out their phone number when they can just borrow signal from whoever’s nearby. Saving minutes, to put it in their own words. Tough to save what you never had in the first place, but Logan is hardly one to talk.

He quickly rules out most of the people from the office as well as the building itself, as he doesn’t need to bother his coworkers on their day off. His parents certainly don’t need to worry themselves with something so trivial as this, and Cadmium is out for obvious reasons. He could probably bug the newer interns, but he’s felt awkward talking to them ever since the main huddle with Roman, Micah, Alex, Joy, and Cassidy fizzled out. A few years’ work together, all down the drain. He tries Joy first, given that they have that candy bar nickname deal going—or they did, though it’s been a while since they last did that pas de deux—but she doesn’t answer.

“I guess I do talk to Roman sometimes,” Logan reasons to himself. “Nowhere to go but up, right? Rock bottom Roman, don’t wear it out. Already talking to myself, so jot that down, surely I should mark this as being my lowest of lows. Don’t call yourself Shirley.”

He keys in Roman’s number. There’s a ring, another, too many rings, way too many, and just as Logan is convinced he should hang up and sulk in silence some more, someone answers. Hopefully the person he actually called this time, and not a messenger middleman intent on crumbling his soul like a Nature Valley granola bar. Hopefully, even if it is another messenger, it’s not one of Roman’s rotating one night stands or something.

Logan really doesn’t know all that much about Roman.

“Go for Roman, what’s pop-rockin’?”

“Hello, this is Logan Walders, and did you steal that turn of phrase from Micah?”

“Ha! Please, Micah stole it from me. I’m the originator, he’s just a petty copycat.”

“Yes, great, very good, so the reason I called you—”

“Hey, can you believe the office is closed again? I mean, come on, right? Great news, yeah? I’ve been putting off this major project for, like, ever, and it’s not like I’m actually gonna use this free time, but hey, day off, you know? Hope we still get full pay.”

“Roman—”

“Plus, I know you’ve got those huge reports due up soon, and weren’t you trying to submit those forms for the training program before the early admission deadline?”

“Yes, but I wanted to ask you—”

“Or no, you already had the forms submitted, didn’t you? You were just waiting for Katie-Lee to give you the go-ahead, weren’t you?”

“ Miss Katie-Lee, and yes, but that isn’t why I—”

“Right, her, isn’t she great? Still can’t believe she gave me that promotion right after you, makes me think there was some kind of nepotism involved, since it came right after your triple boost up, y’know?”

“Roman!”

“What’s pop-rockin,’ my good man?”

“Roman, Virgil left.”

A beat of silence.

Another.

“Virgil did what?”

“Virgil—he—I said some stupid stuff about how he doesn’t work a quote unquote real job , and he walked out, and I don’t know what to do, and I can’t—”

“I’m on my way.”

“Wait, Roman, don’t just—” Click. Logan wonders whether he’ll ever be able to get through a phone call without having to hear that infernal noise against his will. Probably not any time soon, if ever.

So he sits. And he sulks. And he waits for the world to stop turning. And he sits. And he sits. And he sits and he sits and he sits and he sits and maybe a tiny little tear leaks out of his eye as he sits and he sulks and he wishes he could have Virgil beside him to make it all just go away. Like he did a couple days ago.

Eventually, there’s a knock on the door, and Logan just about leaps out of his skin before he realizes that Virgil wouldn’t be knocking, since he has his own key. Logan is not as fast in getting to the door as he could be once he realizes this.

Seeing Roman on the other side is more jarring than one might expect, until it’s considered what Roman has elected to wear on his day off.

An off the shoulder, deep ruby top, paired with a pale pink scarf, a plaid red jacket tied around his waist, and torn up dark grey leggings. To be honest, the high heeled white ankle boots just pull the whole look together. So maybe you can imagine Logan’s surprise when this is the first outfit he’s seen besides his own in days.

“Roman, what are you—how did you even know where my new address was?”

“Wow, you live like this?” Roman steps past Logan into the apartment, glancing around and ignoring Logan’s protests.

“I don’t—how did you get this address?”

“I make it my business to know where my coworkers live for impromptu surprise parties as well as emergencies, so there’s never time wasted trying to deal with travel apps and messages, y’know?”

“I never gave you clearance to see—”

“And I never asked, which was obviously the right move, as I’m here right now, when you so obviously need me.” Roman stops in front of the couch and turns to face Logan, holding his arms out to the side. Looking for a hug, apparently.

“What are you doing.”

“You need to hug it out.”

“I do not need to hug it out. What are you doing in my home.”

“Hug it out. I’m not leaving until you do.”

Logan throws his hands in the air and huffs, toeing the door shut and trudging his way into Roman’s boa constrictor hug. He freezes, melts into it for a split second, and pushes himself away. He also pushes away the urge to run back to the comfort of Roman’s arms, but we’re not talking about that right now. “So tell me how you got into my secure personal file without my permission or written consent.”

“Not important.”

“I really think it is, though.”

“Okay, but, like, it isn’t, though. What’s important here is what’s going on between you and Virgil.” Logan blinks, unaccustomed to Roman being the one to steer the conversation in the right direction. “So tell me what happened. Start with why you decided it wasn’t important that I hear about you getting engaged sooner, then skip ahead to why I’m here. Leave out the part about me accidentally-on-purpose stealing your address.”

Logan lowers himself to the couch again and lets it all out at once, trying not to notice how awful each word sounds as he hears it fall from his own mouth. “It’s stupid, isn’t it? It’s not like I can judge the jobs he chose to have, can I? I mean, he’s had these jobs longer than he’s known me, let alone how long we’ve been together. It’s all so stupid.”

“That’s not—it’s more complicated than that, and clearly you know it, or you wouldn’t have called me in the first place.”

“But I still shouldn’t have—”

“But you did, and you can’t take it back, and that’s okay, isn’t it? Because you would’ve had to talk about it sooner or later. You got it out of the way, and that’s all that really matters, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know. I just feel like the worst person in the world right now.”

“Low bar, but okay. You had the discussion—”

“More of a yelling match.”

“—and now you have to deal with the fallout. Do you know where he is right now?”

“Probably hating me and every word that’s ever had the misfortune of leaving my mouth.”

“Not a valid or accurate answer, my guy. You need to talk this out with him, and the longer you wait, the worse it’ll hurt when it heals.”

Logan cocks his head to the side and gives Roman a long look. “Since when were you allowed to be smart about this kind of thing?”

“Since it’s in my name. Roman-tic.”

“More like your name is in the word, I would say.”

“Well, anyway, you need to talk to him. Do you have an actual, legitimate idea of where he might be?”

“Somewhere with Patton, probably, since Patton picked up the last time I called Virgil’s phone.”

Roman jumps to his feet and bolts for the door, leaving a very confused Logan alone on the couch. “What’re you waiting for? Let’s go!”

“Go where?”

“Patton’s been my best friend since, like, diapers, basically. He doesn’t like to be on the phone when he’s on shift at the museum, so he’s probably at home. I think tonight’s his night with his kid, actually, but Ariel might be there, too. I’m over there, like, every third day. You should know that by now, I mean, we’ve had coffee together, like, so many times. Come on, man.”

Logan nods absently, his mind prompting him with a vague memory of when he saw Roman hanging out at the museum on that first real date with Virgil. Maybe he’s just a little too hysterical at the moment to keep track of the people he’s been friends with for over two years. It’s not as if Roman didn’t already mention Patton constantly before Logan even met Virgil. Logan just wasn’t listening back then.

He barely remembers to grab a jacket from the coat rack as he follows Roman out the door, shouldering it on as they thunder down the stairs. His new cardigan. How appropriate.

“My car’s right over there, you can hop in the passenger seat. It’s maybe a ten minute drive, tops, but you have to listen to my music. I’ve got a good rhythm going with this playlist right now.”

Logan complies, and most of the trip is just a blur as he runs over the possible scenarios that might play out here. Virgil hates him and dumps him and flees the country. Virgil hates him and dumps him and starts dating Patton. Virgil hates him and dumps him and starts dating Roman. Virgil hates him and dumps him and steals Miss Katie-Lee’s job to hold a sadistic kind of power over him. Virgil hates him and dumps him and that’s just how it’s going to be, and there’s nothing Logan can do about it.

It is not a very fun car ride.

Logan vaguely registers Roman shifting the car into park, but he’s too focused on the lines of cookie cutter houses to react to it. A bunch of prim little gardens along prim little buildings that probably hold prim little families that have never had prim little fights because their prim little parents hate their prim little husband’s prim little jobs.

He traces his eyes down the sidewalk, watching a squirrel chase an imaginary acorn. Maybe he’s actually watching the imaginary acorn roll up the tree looming over the road. Maybe the squirrel isn’t chasing anything at all. Who’s to say? Certainly not him.

“Logan?” Logan offers a vague grunt of acknowledgement. “Logan.”

“Yeah, buddy.”

“We’re here.”

“We are.”

“So you need to get out of the car now.”

“I do not need to do that.”

“You do.”

He does.

He takes his sweet time unbuckling and getting out, closing the car door as softly as possible behind him. “Whoops, ha, didn’t quite close all the way, let me just—”

“Logan,” Roman says firmly. He leans across the seat to close the door himself. “Go.”

Logan blows out a big breath with his cheeks puffed up, turning to face the prim little house—or is this one a little prim house? You know, the one with a cute little set of bright blue flowers around the personalized address sign to match the boxes of plumbagos and hydrangeas.

His feet, apparently more impatient than Roman, carry his body to the front door without his permission, and his finger lifts to the doorbell long before he notices how high his hopes have risen. He wonders whether someone could see them floating over his head if they looked close enough. The bell chimes a bright, lilting melody that rings in his ears, still echoing through the house when the door swings open to reveal Patton in pajama pants and bunny slippers.

“Hey, Logan.” There’s no cheer in his voice, and Logan thinks falling straight to the center of the earth sounds pretty good right about now. “What’re you doing here?”

“I, uh, Roman brought me.” Logan angles his chin toward the car, where Roman is sticking his head out the window.

“Hi, Patton!” he yells, waving his hand excitedly.

Patton waves back, then returns his focus to Logan, his demeanor shifting from cold to cheerful and back in an instant. “Virgil explicitly said he didn’t want you coming around. D’you remember that?”

“I know, I know, but just—can you give him a message for me?”

Patton folds his arms and clicks his tongue, running his eyes along the top of the doorframe. “I guess I could, but I can’t promise he’ll want to hear it.”

“I—I know that.” Logan hesitates, unsure how to say what he needs to say when he knows it’ll have to filter through Patton’s head, through Patton’s voice. Yeah, he trusts the guy, he’s gone out for coffee with him quite a few times before, but personal things are personal for a reason. He swallows. “I know he won’t want to hear it, but I still need to say it.”

“Might want to be quick about it. Think your ride’s getting kind of impatient.” Patton nods at the car, where Roman is enthusiastically dancing to a song Logan doesn’t recognize.

“Just—just tell him I’m really sorry, okay? I know that’s lame, and cheap, and doesn’t even begin to describe how awful and gross and terrible I feel about what I said—well, more how I said it, because I do think it’s a conversation we need to have eventually—but anyway, I need him to know I feel like complete crap for what I said and how I said it.

“I shouldn’t have been so harsh out of nowhere when he’s made it clear before that it’s not a conversation he’s ready to have yet, and I should’ve been more accepting of his terms, and I should’ve just accepted that I was having a rough day, and I unfairly took it out on him, and I shouldn't have blamed him, and I messed up so, so bad, and I know that, and I just really, really, really need him to know that I get that I made a mistake, and I was in the wrong, and I just need to talk to him again, even if it’s for him to yell and scream at me and tell me how awful I am because obviously that’s what I deserve, or I wouldn’t be here.” Logan exhales, a big, loud, broken noise, and shakes his head, and stares at his shoes, and wishes he were on Neptune right about now.

He glances to the side when he feels something soft and heavy come to rest on his shoulder. Patton’s hand. He follows the line up to Patton’s shoulder, his chin, his eyes, and pretends not to notice the water swimming there. Or wait, no, maybe that’s not Patton’s eyes welling up. Maybe it’s Logan’s. Neptune is only about twelve earth years away.

“It’ll be okay,” Patton murmurs, pulling Logan into a careful hug. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.” Logan tries to stay stiff, to not accept the embrace from the person keeping him from the only guy in the world he wants to see right now, but he can’t really help himself. He buries his nose in Patton’s hair and sniffs and furrows his brow and tries to hold in the soft sobs as he chokes for air.

“Logan?” Logan is pretty sure his heart stops beating right about then.

He looks up and over Patton’s shoulder to see Virgil standing around the corner, arms wrapped around himself as if to keep warm. “Virgil, I—”

“Don’t, not yet,” Patton murmurs, pushing Logan away. He glances back at Virgil, his gaze a silent question, and Virgil lifts his chin ever so slightly. Patton looks to Logan. “I’ll be out here, give you some privacy.” His voice up until now, save for the initial coldness, has been relatively soft, but his grip on Logan’s arm is suddenly unbearably tight as he yanks him closer. Logan tries not to shudder at the feeling of Patton hissing a warning directly into his ear. “If I hear so much as a peep of distress from Virgil, I will not hesitate to have you thrown to the curb in ten seconds flat, so don’t you dare try me.”

Logan’s eyes go wide and he nods, flattening himself against the wall as Patton strides out. Logan glances at Virgil and is pretty sure he can feel his heart literally imploding. “Hey, Cad—Virgil.”

“Hey.” It’s all Logan can do not to sprint to Virgil and wrap him in a hug, but he manages to restrain himself. For now, at least. “You can come in, I guess.” Virgil turns on his heel and shuffles deeper into the house—presumably to the living room, where Logan follows silently.

In a big room with vaulted ceiling and comfy furniture, Virgil slumps on one of the larger couches and stares blankly at Logan, who stays standing. “Well? Say your piece already so you can go. What do you want to talk about?”

“I—everything, I think. I wanted to apologize.”

“Great. Do that and go.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Underwhelming. Great to see you again. Bye bye.”

“Wait, I didn’t—that’s not how I wanted this to go.”

“Then why don’t you tell me how you did want it to go, because so far, I’m not impressed.”

Logan forces a deep breath through his lungs and prays it’ll be enough to keep himself going. Somehow, he doubts it. “I was wrong to go off at you, and I get that, and I’m sorry. I still think it’s something we do need to talk about, but I shouldn’t have sprung it on you like I did, so I’m sorry for doing that to you.”

“Cool.” Virgil’s stiff response hurts worse than if he would just lash out or scream or something, and Logan kind of wants to scream himself.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“You don’t have anything you want to say to me?”

“Logan.” Logan hates how cold his voice is. “I’m not going to apologize for walking out on an attack on my life choices just because it would soothe your ego.”

“Well, no, I wouldn’t expect you to do that, but aren’t you mad at me? Don’t you have anything to get off your chest?”

“Why yes, Logan, I am mad. Thank you for asking, and for considering my perspective for once. I’ll make sure not to let it get to my head. Or did you just wear that cardigan to make me feel better? Aw, Logan, you shouldn’t have.”

“Okay, so you don’t want to yell at me? Get loud, blow up, start screaming?”

“Not really. I know you made the choice to be a jerk, so I’ve made the choice not to deal with it. Pretty simple, really. I’d expect a rocket scientist genius like you to be able to figure it out, even without doing any actual rocket science.”

Logan elects to ignore that little jab. “You don’t want to yell, to let it out? It’s not important enough to you that you vocalize your anger? It’s not important enough for you to fight over it?”

“No.”

“ I’m not important enough to you that you’d want to fight over it?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“That’s familiar, isn’t it? Because when we were twisting my words around, you sure didn’t care about the letter of the language, did you?” Logan can feel himself getting hysterical now, louder by the second, but he doesn’t care. “Does it bother you to have your words twisted around and thrown back at you like that?”

“Sure it does, but why should you care? Not like it’ll harm your precious little office job.” Virgil’s calm, steady voice is only that much more infuriating, and Logan wants to throw something.

“Don’t you want to scream? To yell, to tear me to pieces?”

“Why?”

“Come on!” Logan is desperate now, balling his hands into fists at his sides, working the muscles in his jaw and wishing Patton would follow through on his little threat right about now. “I’m being such an ass to you right now, why won’t you fight back? Yell, scream, tell me how awful I am to say all this shit to you, about you!”

“Do you want me to do that?”

“Stop being so damn calm and just tell me how much I suck, how awful I am, how hard I insulted you, how hard I am insulting you just by being here when you told me to stay away and why I’m in the wrong and you deserve so much better than a pompous perfectionist who can’t handle even the smallest thing going wrong in his perfect world without tearing the whole production to pieces because one single variable has the nerve to go against the arbitrary grain!”

Virgil doesn’t even blink, his expression painfully neutral. Fewer emotions on his features than there are ripples on a frozen pond on a windless day.

“Scream! Yell! Curse or break or something or anything, I don’t care, but give me some kind of reaction, tell me we jumped into this engagement thing too soon and too fast, tell me I was wrong to blow up at you like that and like this so we can just get it over with and you can dump me and tell me how much you hate me and we can both be done with this mistake of a relationship!”

A painful beat of silence. Logan relaxes his fists, breathing heavily and wishing his face weren’t as pink as he knows it is. It always gets so blotchy, so messy, so horrible on the rare occasions he gets all worked up crying like this, an irrational, ridiculous mockery of his usual put-together facade. There’s a reason he doesn’t let himself break down like this when he can help it.

Evidently, he couldn’t help it this time.

He can’t even bring himself to look at Virgil, just trying to focus on a fiber in the carpet and sniffling quietly.

“You think this relationship is a mistake?” Virgil’s voice is soft, gentle, hesitant, and it’s enough to bring Logan to his knees. He sinks to the ground, ducking his chin to his chest and just letting his shoulders shake in the weighted silence. “Logan, do you really think we’re a mistake?” He feels his whole body shudder when Virgil’s fingers graze under his chin. “Logan, look at me.”

“I can’t.”

“Logan, look at me.”

“I can’t.”

Virgil doesn’t seem to hear this, or if he does, he doesn’t care, as he presses his knuckles softly against Logan’s adam’s apple. Logan chokes back a sob. “You think that us being together is a mistake?”

“I—I don’t—I can’t—”

“Hey. Hey, Logan, look.” Virgil waves his other hand in front of Logan’s face, the glint of the light catching on the ring around his finger. “Look at this, look, look here, you see?” He pulls the ring to the tip of his finger, not quite removing it all the way as he holds it before Logan’s eyes to show off the inscription. “‘I’ll bring you the moon.’ Remember when you promised me that?”

Logan hiccoughs. “I—yeah, yeah, I do. I do.”

“So you remember that you haven’t followed through on that yet.”

“I do.”

“So you know that this is just one little road block on a long trip that we’ve agreed to take together, and you know that I don’t think this is a mistake.”

“I don’t—”

“Logan.” Virgil’s voice is soft but clipped, pleading. “I need you to tell me that you know we aren’t a mistake.”

“I know we aren’t a mistake,” Logan tells the floor.

“Tell it to me .”

“I know we aren’t a mistake,” Logan tells Virgil’s left ear.

“To me, Logan. Please?”

“I—” Logan hesitates, his voice catching when he sees that glimmer in Virgil’s eyes. “I know we’re not—I know we aren’t a mistake.”

“Good.” Virgil’s voice sounds about as broken as Logan feels, and he slides off the couch to join Logan on the floor, wrapping him in a loose hug.

It’s not as extravagant as Roman’s, not as steadying as Patton’s, but it feels like home, and there on the floor in Virgil’s arms, Logan exhales.

#labhwrites #mine #i'll bring you the moon #ibytm

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edenplays · 5 years

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We Were On A Break

FF | AO3

Bonkai AU: Sometimes couples need to take a break. Sometimes couples just need some space. Bonnie and Kai? They're not that kind of couple.

This is an extremely AU Season 1 One-Shot, suggested by Scorpio-Karma. It started with a single quote and then, lo and behold, it gave birth to this story. Rolling things back a bit and skewing timelines to the extreme. Kai is a senior at Mystic Falls High and Bonnie is a junior. They've been together for almost a year now and she is well aware of her magic in part to being with Kai.

I blame @scorpio-karma for this entire fic. Love you like I love good food, booboo!

"Get up!" Bonnie threw Kai's jeans at him after watching him hit the snooze button for the fourth time that morning. "You're not getting breakfast if you don't come on!"

He groaned, sitting up with the covers bunching up in his lap. Bonnie both loved and hated how hot his bed head was. But she would never admit it verbally. Kai's ego was already borderline ridiculous.

"Oh no," he croaked, voice dripping with sarcasm, "no Eggos. What ever will I do?"

"Starve."

He grinned at her. "I could always have something else for breakfast."

Kai gave his trademark brow wiggle and she scoffed, making her way toward her vanity and scooping up her cheer sneakers.

"No." He pouted and she rolled her eyes to primp her hair. "Now hurry up. I don't want Caroline breathing down my back because I was late for practice." She glared at his reflection in the mirror. "Because of you."

She was already fully dressed in her cheerleading uniform. Today was the school's pep rally and Caroline was demanding that they all get there early to go over their routine. Her phone vibrated on the table. It was probably another text from Caroline. The twelfth one and counting.

"Whatever." Kai grunted, throwing the covers off of him. He grabbed the towel that Bonnie had set aside for him and wrapped it around his waist. "Blondie needs to get laid so she can stop being such a-"

"Don't." Bonnie's warning was clear. Her eyes narrowed at him as she was applying lip gloss. "Don't start."

He shrugged, leaning down to kiss her cheek before leaving to hit the shower down the hall. Bonnie waited until the door clicked before letting out a sigh she'd been holding back. Her eyes fell to her phone and she saw a text from her dad amidst all the spam that was left by Caroline. Apparently, he wasn't going to be able to come home that weekend. In fact, he would be gone for the most of next week.

This shouldn't have hurt her. It was normal. Especially since that was the reason Kai was able to stay over at her house for days on end when her father was gone and when she wasn't being pestered by her Grams to come stay with her so she wasn't left fending for herself.

Even so, she'd been looking forward to him coming home in time for the game.

"Wait, what?"

Kai tried not to wince at the barb in Bonnie's voice. He had been hoping to avoid this conversation until the very last minute. How was he supposed to know that she'd bring it up as soon as they pulled into the school parking lot?

"What do you mean you're not going to be able to make it to the game?" Bonnie was burning holes into his face. He could feel it. Kai kept his eyes leveled on the dash for as long as possible. "Why?! You never said anything!"

Sighing, he finally faced her and saw that angry vein ticking at her temple. If he wasn't risking death, he would have kissed her face. "I have to work, Bonster."

"Since when? You told me you weren't working tonight."

"Brandon called in." Kai shrugged. "I can't help it."

It was true. He did find it weird that Bonnie had been adamant about him coming to this particular game, but he just shrugged it off to her being overzealous. It wasn't the first game he'd missed so he didn't see the big deal.

After a semi-long stretch of silence, Bonnie grabbed up her backpack and started to get out of the car. He grabbed her by her arm to keep her from leaving. She pulled harder to get free but he held fast.

"Hey, don't be mad."

"Screw off, Kai," she snipped, yanking her arm free.

Kai was already out of the car by the time she slammed the passenger door shut. "What the hell's your problem?" He watched Bonnie adjust the straps on her backpack and started walking away. "Hey!"

"You are!" she yelled over her shoulder.

He growled, extending his hand and halting her steps. Kai watched her struggle against the magical hold he had on her. When she stopped and glared at him, her green eyes cold and hot at the same instance, Kai faltered for half a second.

Because it was at that moment that he knew he fucked up.

The pain hit him faster than he could counter. Kai's yell was clipped as he smashed his fist into the roof of his car, the magical agony Bonnie was inducing exploding behind his eyeballs. He crumbled to his knees, ignoring the strange looks from other students as he pulled the driver's side door open and clambered inside of the car.

Bonnie's assault ceased when he closed the door and Kai was able to get his vision right long enough to see the hurt and anger etched clearly on her face before watching her stalk off toward the practice field.

"-onnie? Bonnie!"

Snapping out of her daze, Bonnie took a step back when she saw Caroline practically nose to nose with her. "W-What is it, Caro?"

Caroline clapped her hands, causing Bonnie to shut her eyes from the noise before a slow exhale spilled out from her. "Earth to Bonnie!" The blonde sighed, her hands resting at her hips. "Seriously, what's going on with you? You've been out of it since practice started."

Elena sidled up beside the two of them, giving a gentle rub to Bonnie's lower back in reassurance. "Were you and Kai fighting again?" Bonnie gave her a look and she watched her brows furrow in apology. "There was some talk about you both yelling at each other in the parking lot?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes and scoffed. This school was too damn small. Instead of answering, she shrugged and started kicking the toe of her shoe into the grass.

A sigh issued from Caroline before she folded her arms across her chest. "Well, are you going to be able to get it together for the rally and the game?" Bonnie's shoulders sagged slightly which caused Caroline to sigh again. "You were super hyped about your solo routine tonight. We all are!"

"I know," was all the witch could offer. "I just… I'm irritated, is all."

"What's the matter?"

"I just found out that both my dad and Kai aren't going to be able to make it to the game tonight." She looked between both of her childhood friends and shook her head. "I know, it's a stupid reason to get upset. I'm just pissed off with it all."

She wasn't about to get into the whole thing with Kai. Because they wouldn't understand. They weren't witches like Kai and her. And Kai broke the rule they made between each other. Which meant that he was teetering on the verge of being shoved out of her life for longer than just a few days.

"Look," cut in Elena, pulling both Caroline and Bonnie into an affectionate hug, "let's just get through practice as best we can and then we can ditch 7th period to work on the routine. Just the three of us."

Bonnie and Caroline both nodded in agreement. She really needed to get her head together. Screw her stupid boyfriend and his stupid job. They probably needed a break anyway. They'd been spending way too much time together these days.

Kai had decided to give Bonnie some breathing room. He figured she was taking roundabouts to get to class because she wasn't by her locker after first and second period like she normally was. Which meant that she was avoiding him.

He lingered by her locker for a few more minutes before resigning himself when the first warning bell sounded for everyone to be in their next class. Pulling out his phone, he slipped into his Trigonometry class and took his seat at the back of the classroom.

Kai: Bon. Talk to me.

Their teacher, Mrs. Halpern, quickly took attendance and asked for everyone to pass their homework up. When he handed his off, his phone vibrated on the desk and he immediately pulled it into his lap. He played off like nothing happened as Mrs. Halpern glanced suspiciously around the room before beginning her lecture.

Glancing down, he felt a small tug at the corner of his mouth when he saw Bonnie's name on the screen. He quickly opened it up and that smile instantly morphed into a frown.

Bonnie: No.

Kai: Wtf? Are you seriously that pissed off that I can't make it to the game tonight?

Bonnie: Don't play dumb, Kai. You know what you did.

Kai had really been hoping that Bonnie would have treated it like an honest mistake. Which it was. It was practically the only rule they had with each other and he'd gone and fucking broke it.

But she was walking away! What did she expect him to do? They rarely got into it like that in public - choosing to fight behind closed doors. Mostly because their magic usually got out of control, but still…

Kai: C'mon, Bonnie… It was a mistake. You know I didn't mean it.

He was barely paying attention to the lesson. Kai didn't think Bonnie was ever going to text him back. Was she waiting on him to keep going? Maybe suggest a solution?

Kai: ...do we need to take a break?

Still nothing.

Please say "no". Please say "no".

The phone buzzed.

Bonnie: Yes.

"NO!" Kai jumped from his chair, nearly knocking over his desk.

The entire class jumped, issuing a mixture of surprised looks and glares. He didn't give a damn. Mrs. Halpern cleared her throat loudly to get his attention. "What seems to be the problem, Kai?"

Kai was already gathering his books. "Sorry," he muttered before bee-lining for the door. "Gotta go."

And before his teacher could protest, he was slamming the door behind him and heading toward Bonnie's History class.

Bonnie silenced her phone so she wouldn't get anymore messages from Kai. Or anyone. Even though he had been the one to suggest it, it was what she wanted. At least for a little while, anyway.

She also knew he threw the option out there because he was secretly hoping she would say no. If he'd done anything but what he'd done, she would have given in to him like she always did. He had a certain...way of persuading her.

Well, not today.

Not even fifteen minutes into the lecture, Bonnie felt a presence that she was all too familiar with. She glanced toward the door and her eyes widened when she saw Kai's face in the window. Sitting up, Bonnie almost bolted from her chair but forced herself to stay rooted. Instead, she glared at him and focused back on the lecture.

It wasn't until she felt the flare up of magic that her head turned back to the door and she saw Kai lifting his hand up to the glass. It was covered in flames. She gasped and flew herself from her desk while gathering her things simultaneously. Mr. Saltzman looked at Bonnie curiously and she gave an apologetic bow before zipping from the classroom.

She closed the door sharply behind her, clutching her books to her chest as she glared up at Kai. "Are you crazy?! What are you-"

Her words were cut off as Kai sealed his lips over hers, drawing a sharp intake of breath. He was pulling her against a nearby row of lockers and pushing her into the cold metal of the doors. She almost dropped her books, clutching them with one arm and barely managing to shove Kai off of her.

"Stop!" Bonnie's voice was thick with need and she cleared her throat loudly to get rid of it. She didn't want Kai to have the satisfaction of knowing how hungry she was for his kisses, even when she was angry with him.

He smiled at her - eyes with want and she had to resist the urge she had to toss him across the hall with her magic. Just because he broke the rule didn't mean she had to put herself on his level. That's what he wanted. Bonnie knew that much about him. Because if she broke the rule too, then that meant she had no reason to be angry with him.

Bonnie turned to walk away from him, but he was already in her path and crowding her space. Green eyes narrowed angrily at him. "Get out of my way, Kai."

Kai shook his head, his smirk filled with deviancy. "Why don't you make me, Bonster?"

"Fat chance," she snapped, knocking her shoulder into his chest to shove him back a measure. "Now get the hell out of my way!" She shoved him again, gasping when his hands gripped her shoulders before being shoved up against the lockers.

His lips fell on her roughly, forcing her mouth open so that she had no choice but to give his tongue entrance as it laved across her own. A low groan of pleasure and annoyance rippled from her as he continued to press against her. There was heat radiating between them and she almost felt herself giving in when his hand moved to stroke over her hip. The cold bite of his rings ghosted along her bare thigh and the moan Bonnie had been suppressing transformed into a full-on whine.

"Hey!" a voice boomed down the hall.

They separated immediately, seeing one of the office staff approaching them. Bonnie aimed a kick for Kai's shin and tore off down the hall. She was able to hear him yell out in pain before she felt a ripple of magic cascading behind her. He most likely had thrown up some kind of spell to keep the staff member from pursuing but she didn't care. Her sneakers ate up the linoleum before she burst through the glass double doors and raced to the parking lot.

Bonnie's eyes scanned the various cars and she kicked herself for letting Kai drive them to school that morning. She should have just left him sleeping in the bed so he could get in trouble. Her whole day was going to shit and it was all his fault, the bastard.

"Bon-Bon, is that you?"

Pivoting on her heels, she looked over and saw Damon Salvatore pulling up in his Camaro. Caroline was apparently dating this piece of work and while Elena was inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt, Bonnie had no reason to offer up the same courtesy. As far as she was concerned, he was scummy.

But scummy was an escape she was willing to take.

"What's up?" He flashed his wolfish grin at her and it took everything she had not to screw her face up in disgust. "I never would have pegged you for the ditching type." His sapphire eyes roved over her body and she rolled her eyes. "Need a ride?"

Not bothering to answer, Bonnie clambered into the passenger seat and slammed the door. At least she could calm down and think long enough before possibly obliterating her boyfriend. If Damon could keep quiet long enough to give her that peace of mind.

"So, where to?"

Wishful thinking. She should have known better.

Cutting her eyes to him, Bonnie folded her arms across her chest and sank back into the seat cushion. "Nowhere. I just need to think."

"Something happen?" He slid the car into park and killed the engine. "Caroline mentioned something about you and your boyfriend fighting?" Bonnie's eyes narrowed at him harshly and he held his hands up in surrender. "Hey, I'm just repeating what I was told. Did you two break up or something?"

Bonnie sighed. "Taking a break."

There was a shift in movement and Bonnie turned in time to see Damon leaning closer toward her from across the gear shift. "Then take a break here."

She raised her brows slightly. "Do I look like I want to get murdered today?"

Caroline was the crazy jealous type and she was not about to hop on that cruise anytime soon. Her best friend aside, if Kai were to get wind of this…

"Scratch that. You'd be getting murdered."

Damon leaned in closer, his smirk ever present. "I doubt you and I have anything to worry-"

A sickening crack issued as she watched Damon's neck suddenly bend in a way that it shouldn't have. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fell limp across the console and gear shifts. Bonnie let out a small shriek before the passenger side door is thrown open and she's being yanked out of the car. Whirling around, she was face to face with an enraged Kai and for a moment, Bonnie forgot how to speak.

But only for a moment.

"Wha-"

He pulled her against his chest, their noses barely touching. "Break's over."

Magic blanketed them and Bonnie didn't have to question if they were cloaked. It was his specialty and she was too stunned to fight back. Not until they were behind the football field bleachers. Again, she was pushed against metal and refusing to use magic to fight him off. His hands lifted her arms above her head and he bucked his hips into her.

Lips captured hers once more in a desperate, ravenous kiss and Bonnie then felt his hands gliding over her thighs. It took one tug for her feet to move from the grass to locking around his back as her hips straddled his waist. Kai slipped his hands beneath her cheerleading skirt, grasped the hem of her bloomers and ripped them completely from her body.

Bonnie broke the kiss. "Hey!"

"I'll fix them later," he murmured into her skin as she felt teeth sinking into her collar. "Now shut-up and let me make it up to you for being a fucking idiot."

Her fingers carded through his hair, gripping a fistful at the roots so she could tug his face back. "You broke the rule!"

"I know, fuck! I know! I shouldn't have used my magic on you." His brows furrowed in remorse. Genuine remorse. It took her by slight surprise. "Forgive me?" Kai had ceased undoing his pants, waiting for her permission before continuing.

Bonnie sighed. "And you still can't make it to the game tonight?"

"I'll see what I can do, Bonster, I promise." He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers. "Matt told me you had a solo dance. Why didn't you tell me?"

"It was supposed to be a surprise!"

She pouted but Kai attempted to kiss it away. "You still should have told me. Then I would have called Brandon and told him to take his sorry ass to work or I'd set fire to his car."

Despite how serious his face was, Bonnie couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled from her. Kai kissed the corner of her mouth and then her jaw before lavishing his affection along her neck once more. He pulled away from her long enough to look back into her eyes.

"Now, can I please fuck you silly so you can forgive me already?"

Instead of giving him an answer, her hands moved with a quickness at the front of his pants - unhooking the clasp and pulling the belt free. She threw it off to the side as if it were nothing. It meant nothing. All the while, she maintained her gaze on his and slowly slid the zipper down so that the sound of the teeth coming loose were reminiscent of a torturous scream in the dead of night. Bonnie took a moment to dip her hands below the waistband of his underwear and stroked him - feeling his heat in her palms.

But then she stopped, her smirk widening across her features. "I dunno," Bonnie whispered hotly against his mouth, leaning up so that their lips could touch in a swift kiss as her tongue swept over the lower swell of his mouth. "You have been pretty naughty." Her hand continued to stroke, not pulling him free but spurning his need forward. Another swift kiss to his mouth, dipping her tongue between his lips to stroke along his. "I shouldn't be forgiving you so easily."

She rolled her hips up to dangerously press against both his heat and her hand, a soft laugh spilling from her. "But since you asked so nicely…"

Launching herself up, both hands moved to grasp at the material near his waist and she hurriedly pulled them down, freeing him from his confines before she moved to press her lips against his neck, nails digging deeply into the 'v' line of his hips. When she reached his collar, Bonnie's lips puckered and pressed, leaving a quiet and faint mark there - making her presence known.

He wasn't the only one allowed to leave tell-tale hickeys and get away with it.

Kai chuckled and felt the rumble of his body against her lips. Bonnie pulled back with a soft smack and he grasped at her wrist with one hand so he could pull her own away from the hold she had on his length. Once freed, he teased at her folds for a few seconds and plunged into her without abandon - feeling himself burying into her all the way to the hilt.

His teeth snapped and dug into each other, a groan of satisfaction vibrating in his chest as Bonnie gasped and moaned softly against his neck. Slowly, oh so slowly, he pushed and pulled and rocked into her hips. Bonnie's legs tightened around his waist - silently urging him to move faster and so he did. Thrusting into her until the metal bleachers whined in protest against their motions.

Her nails dug into his shoulders and even through his jacket he could feel the pain that came with it. It only fueled his excitement further and his pace quickened with every new puff of air that pushed from Bonnie. The last tethers he had were snatched from him completely when she moaned his name into the shell of his ear, causing him to turn and quickly silence that sound with his lips over hers.

They climaxed together, the vice-like grip she had on him squeezing everything from Kai and then some.

For a moment, all they did was hold each other and Kai mentally whipped himself to keep his legs from trembling as she held onto him for dear life. Her thigh muscles finally relaxed, and she unlocked her legs from around him. He continued to hold Bonnie as she tried to get her bearings and stop her own legs from shaking. He only let go of her when he was sure she could stand on her own.

As promised, he picked up her bloomers and chanted a spell to repair them. Bonnie snatched them from him and shimmied into them. Kai kissed her on the cheek and she smiled. He'd been forgiven.

The bell for the end of third period sounded.

"We should get to class," Bonnie said softly while tucking some of her hair behind her ear.

"Yeah," he said while crowding her space some more. "I'll see you at lunch?"

"Mmm," she offered, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips before ducking under his arm and running off back to the main building.

Kai watched her go and sighed, pulling out his phone and dialing Brandon's number. After two rings, he heard the gruff sound of the college student finally answering. "Hey, fuck your call in. You're working tonight." There was a semblance of protest issued on the other line. "Tell James you're coming in tonight or I'm posting nudes of you all over campus." A devious grin spread over Kai's face. "So unless you don't care if everyone knows how small your dick is, you're working. Not me. Got it? ...good. Later."

Slipping the phone back into his jacket, Kai ran his fingers through his hair and scooped up his bag he'd tossed off to the wayside on the way to the field. Like hell he'd miss Bonnie's solo. Besides, he was done with "breaks".

Completely.

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