#its been bouncing around in my head like a ping-pong ball for weeks now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kireijae · 3 years

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i.o.u- l.dh

summary: a late night adventure with Haechan, your older brother’s best friend, leads you to confront your feelings for him.

genre: non idol au, fluff, tiny bit of angst if you squint, technically a college au as well, also kind of comedy but i’m not very funny

word count: 4,029

warnings: swearing and there’s a slightly steamy makeout scene, also like the implied use of weed but it’s a v small one i promise.

a/n: eee my first hyuckie imagine! i worked really hard on this so i hope you all like iittt! please leave feedback if you can! also this was edited at 10:55pm and i’m exhausted so there are probably mistakes-

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Your eyes scanned the street from your place on the sidewalk. The streets glistened under the streetlights with the rainwater that had fallen earlier. The cool breeze was refreshing against your skin, unlike the musty air you’d been swamped with in the party upstairs. The smoke and the presence of so many strangers had nearly left you gasping for air.

You checked your phone for any messages from your brother, eager to get as far away from the party as possible, but as soon as your phone unlocked you heard a honk from the street, which pulled your head up.

There was a black car pulled up right ahead, your heart picked up its pace when the tinted window sunk down low enough to reveal Haechan. His hair was a light brown, somehow still shiny even though you’d seen him with at least three different hair colours in the past two months. His skin was glowing too- even under the subpar car light.

“Y/n!” he had to yell to be heard over the scraping sound of the cars, “Taeil sent me to pick you up!”

You dropped your shoulders from their tensed position, pushing down your feelings and stepping forward to open the car door and get inside. The car smelled like Haechan: men’s shower gel and a faint woodsy scent.

“Where’s my brother?” you turned to him, genuine confusion curved into your brows.

“What? Am I not good enough?” Haechan asked, placing a hand on his chest and feigning offence.

You shook your head at him, used to his antics by now. He’d been best friends with your brother since preschool, always there at family gatherings and lazing around your house on most weekends.

“Well, when I asked my brother to come pick me up I sort of expected him to pick me up,” you said it slowly, matching his teasing with your own. Things with him always fell into a rhythm like this, after the initial anxiety of being around someone you had feelings for left, snarky comments bounced back and forth like a ping pong ball between the two of you.

“Okay, fair point,” he said, starting the car, “He’s still busy with that essay. Apparently it’s due in like twenty minutes or something. So, since I’m such a good friend I offered to pick you up.”

“Haechan, before I left you were the reason he wasn’t doing any work,” you scoffed, refusing to let his ego inflate- even for a minute.

“That’s not true! He was on a break!” he whined, eyes wide at the accusation but his gaze still directed towards the road.

“For three hours?”

“Yes,” he said, matter of factly with a nod of his head, “Rest is important.”

“Whatever,” you said, “Just take me home.”

“I actually have to do something else for Taeil, too,” he didn’t take his eyes off the road, they were glinting from the neon signs that lined the buildings on the street outside. The streetlights made the skin of his hands glow in passing, creating a hypnotic rhythm of light and dark over his skin.

“Can you not drop me off first?” you knew the answer even before you asked- he was going to make you go with him. And you were going to give in.

“Please?!” he whined again, plush bottom lip drooping in a pout, “It’s pretty far and I hate being alone!”

Sighing, you asked, “Where is it?”

“Johnny’s house…” He trailed off, expecting an outburst to come from you at the distance you’d have to drive.

You couldn’t believe you were considering this. Johnny’s house was on the other side of the city and you were already tired out from the party you’d spent only half an hour at. But, something in you wanted to stay. The thought of spending some time with someone outside your friend group seemed refreshing and the fact that it was Haechan was even more enticing.

You turned your head to look out the tinted window at the buildings passing by you in a blur, “Fine,” you sighed, “but you owe me.”

He grinned, his full cheeks jutting out further, and made a sharp turn in the opposite direction of your apartment. Your body swayed at the sudden change in direction and you held onto the side of the seat instinctually. Haechan was a good driver- but a slightly wreckless one at that.

After a few moments he turned on the radio, tossing you his phone, “Put some music on.”

Looking through his phone, you weren’t surprised at the extensive collection of music he had on his Spotify- most of the songs were new ones you hadn’t heard of before. Others were old throwback songs from the 2000’s and your mouth turned up into a smile at the sight of Shinee’s ‘Replay.’

You pressed play and leaned back in your seat, grin even bigger now. You waited for his reaction, which came in the form of a wave of laughter.

“Oh, fuck,” he said, barely able to speak from laughter, “Remember when Lucas danced to this at your sleepover party?”

“Of course I remember that, he ruined the song for me forever,” you laughed along with him.

Your smile turned into a grimace at his next question though, “What ever happened to Lucas- actually to that whole group of friends? I never see them anymore.”

“Drifted apart,” you mumbled. You truly wished there was more to say than that. You wished you could say you tried to stay in touch when you went to university but couldn’t; or that something huge had happened that couldn’t be fixed. That wasn’t the truth, though. You hadn’t done anything- nothing that made them leave and nothing that made them stay.

Haechan sensed the tension around the topic and let the conversation fade, hoping the sense of unease would dissipate with it.

When the next song was over, Haechan came to a stop at a gas station, “Want anything?” he asked, pulling up the handbrake and taking the keys out of the ignition. The car practically fell down to the road beneath it as the power was turned off.

“I don’t have any money on me,” you raised your empty hands.

“So you don’t want any of those gross gummy bears you like? Or a soda?” he raised his perfectly shaped eyebrow at you, “I’ll buy them for you.”

“I’ll take the gummy bears if they have any,” you said gratefully, and he got out of the car and went into the shop.

You thought about your earlier conversation with Haechan- about how much you missed your friends. The way they’d joke around with you and tease you lightheartedly about anything and everything. A year ago you would have nearly exploded at the idea of being alone with Haechan at all- let alone for this long- and they would have teased you about it for weeks. Somehow though, those friendships faded. You went to a different university to them, you paid attention to your studies and spent more time at home than you ever had. The only contact you had with other people being with fellow students between lectures and at home with your brother and his friends.

“I got you the biggest packet they had,” came Haechan’s voice through the open window, “and the peach soda you like.”

You smiled at him, thankful that he’d brought you out of your thoughts and thankful for the snacks, “I could kiss you.”

“Mm? Then by all means please do,” his signature shit eating grin was plastered on his face.

Your cheeks heated up visibly at that, though you hoped the poor lighting in the car hid the fact. You hit him in the chest with the back of your hand and he doubled over in fake agony, the canned coffee he bought falling to the ground.

“Awh,” he groaned, continuing his act.

“Oh please,” you said, rolling your eyes, “Just start the car, Hyuck.”

“I can’t. My pride- it’s bruised,” he held onto his stomach and shook his head, eyes screwed shut.

Before you could stop yourself you leaned over and pressed your lips to his cold cheek in a hasty kiss.

“There,” you tried your hardest not to show your surprise at your own actions, “Better?”

He perked up, back pin straight, eyes wide and a huge smile on his face, “Very much so, yes.”

Before you could do anything, he started the car. A smirk struggled its way onto his face despite his efforts to stop it and his cheeks became a beautiful pink colour. His sudden shyness made yours deflate slightly and you felt your heart and cheeks warm at the thought of your effect on him.

“Hey,” he said suddenly after a few moments, “Hand me one of those gummies.”

He held out his hand, the skin pulled tightly over his slender, outstretched fingers. When you didn’t make a move to place one of the sweets in his hand, he made a grabbing motion with his fingers. That brought you out of your weird staring stupor and prompted you to grab a few gummy bears from the packet to place in his hand, hoping he hadn’t noticed your weird hand staring moment.

He shoved all six of the sweets into his mouth at once, face scrunching up in disgust, “These really are terrible,” his words distorted by the gummies in his mouth.

“Then why’d you ask for them?” you looked over to him, your mouth pulled into a smile and your brows furrowed at his actions. Your cheeks were starting to hurt- they always did after spending so much time with him.

“I forgot they were that bad,” when he came to a stop at a red light he shook his body as if it would rid his mouth of the flavour.

The rest of the drive to Johnny’s house was filled with more laughter and sneaky comments thrown back and forth. There were fewer cars on the road the longer you drove and the movement of the car seemed to calm you.

In the driveway of Johnny’s parents’ house, Haechan turned to you once again, “Are you gonna come in?”

You nodded and got out with him, you’d never actually been in Johnny’s house- since most of them still lived with their parents, Taeil’s friends usually came over to your shared apartment.

Johnny opened the door even before you got to it and ushered both of you inside, you assumed Haechan and texted him when you stopped.

“You guys have to be quiet,” he said, without even a ‘hello’, “My mom and dad are sleeping and they were in a shitty mood earlier.”

“Hey,” you asked quietly, grabbing Johnny’s attention, “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Right through that door,” he pointed behind you and you went in.

You went to the sink to wash your hands, they were sticky from the sweets you’d had in the car. Along with the sound of the water spilling into the sink, you heard Johnny and Haechan’s voices through the thin walls- so much for being quiet.

“You two finally together or something?”

“Huh? No. Listen-”

“Dude, you’ve had a crush on them since forever, how have neither of you said anything?”

Your eyes widened at those words and you felt the blood in your face sink down to your heart. You turned off the tap and put your cold hands on your neck, before wiping them on a towel.

“Listen,” his voice was as stern as it could be, though it broke a bit at the end of the word, “Did you find Taeil’s textbook: yes or no?”

You heard a chuckle that had to be Johnny’s, “Alright I’ll go get it- by the way-”

His sentence was interrupted by you coming out of the bathroom.

“Did I interrupt something?” you asked in a tone that you hoped came off as joking.

“I need a favour,” Johnny said, ignoring your words and leaving the room for a few seconds to find the textbook Haechan had been so adamant about getting. He came back, textbook in one hand along and a dark piece of material in the other, “Jaehyun left his hoodie here, can you get it to him, please?”

You yawned, taking the textbook when he handed it to you, “Why can’t you do it?”

“My parents won’t let me use the car after I locked the keys inside it last week,” he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment as he said it, words falling pathetically to the carpeted floor.

“And why can’t Jaehyun come get his own damn-” you were cut off by Haechan.

“Okay we’ll do it, but-” he took the black hoodie from Johnny, who was looking up at Haechan with his head still bowed. He pointed a finger at him, “-you owe me,” then pointed the same finger at you, “And I owe you.”

“Twice!” you said as he pulled you by the hand towards the front door. You both said your goodbyes to a smiling Johnny and got back in Hyuck’s car. Little raindrops had appeared on the windscreen since you’d gone inside.

“I swear after this I’ll take you home,” you smiled at him at that, letting him know it didn’t bother you.

The car began moving again, 90’s RnB playing softly in the background and soon the rain got heavier, bulbous drops hitting the car. Jaehyun’s apartment was only a few minutes away from Johnny’s, in a highrise building lined with silver, glittering windows.

“His parents are loaded,” said Haechan when he noticed your eyes trying to see the top of the building through the rain clouds above.

“Please tell me he’s not on the top floor,” you whined as Haechan parked the car.

He got out before you and you heard a satisfied sigh echo through the undercover parking.

“I’m so fucking good at this,” he said, hands on his hips, standing behind the car.

You got out and shut the door, walking over skeptically to see what he was talking about.

“Perfect,” he said, gesturing to his car in the parking space.

He was right- the car was perfectly in the centre of the two white lines. You huffed out a laugh at him and his ego, handing him the hoodie he’d apparently forgotten about, “Alright, I get it , you can park a car. Can we go inside now?”

“Hey, you’re lucky you get to witness a master operating that vehicle! Maybe observing me will help you actually pass next time,” he leaned his head over to you while he was walking, his tone was cocky and he had a sly smile on his face.

You flicked him on the forehead between the fluffy strands of hair that lay there and he yelped while you said, “Fuck off that test is rigged.”

“First of all- not true. Second- why the fuck did you flick me?!” he yelled before you came to the automated glass door of the lobby.

In front of you stood two marble pillars in the middle of the room that twisted all the way up to the ceiling. Beyond them was a chandelier, jewels dangling over a seating area, where lush white couches stood. They looked as if no one had ever laid a hand on them on them and the plants that littered the room looked so real you had to touch one to be sure of the material.

“You were being an ass,” you answered simply after taking in the room.

You followed Hyuck over to the elevator, the sound of your footsteps seemed to have a mind of their own, you swore you could hear them walking up the walls and across the ceiling.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, a group of people around the same age as you stampeded into the lobby and then the elevator. All of them dressed in glittering clothes and bright, shining makeup. One of them had eyelids full of pastel glitter and another had a coat made out of fluffy white feathers.

You all crowded into the elevator, you and Haechan unfortunately squeezed right into the back corner of the metal box.

“What floor are you two headed to?” asked a man who was in the highest heels you’d ever seen in your life.

“The top floor!” Haechan basically had to throw his voice over the glittering heads of the other people.

You groaned at his words and felt the elevator start moving. When you’d asked to get picked up from a party you hadn’t expected to be shoved between Haechan and a girl with rhinestones on every inch of her dress instead. You’d left the party to get away from people, not to get pressed up against them.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned to the girl. “You two dating?” she asked, blue eyes lingering on Haechan’s face.

“Uh n-” you began, but Hyuck spoke over you.

“Not yet- I’m working on that,” he said smoothly and winked at you, which made your heart begin to push against your chest rather violently.

“Too bad,” she said as the doors to the elevator slide open to the fourth floor, “you’re cute.” She winked at you and walked out with the rest of the group, their heels and accessories clinking down the hallway.

You stood in shock from having been flirted with twice in the span of thirty seconds, not realising that you were still pressed against Haechan.

“Y/n~” he said in a sing-song voice, dragging your eyes away from the spot you’d been staring at.

“Sorry!” you said a bit too loudly, moving to dart off him. Hyuck, however, held you to his side, only stepping forward to press the button for the top floor again with his index finger, holding Jaehyun’s now crinkled hoodie with his other fingers.

“Just needed to press the button again- it resets sometimes,” he said, stepping back into his place, “You okay?”

“Were you being serious? About ‘working on’ dating me?” the words came out quickly. Your voice was smaller than you thought it would be and it carried an air of surprise- which it shouldn’t have, since you’d heard him and Johnny talking earlier, but it felt more real now.

His brown eyes glided across your face, he seemed to be exploring every option he could in his mind. Lips pulled close to his teeth and eyes wide, before he leaned in and kissed you.

He tasted like the canned coffee he’d had and mint and the second you tasted that combination on his lips you couldn’t pull away. He placed his hands on your waist and pulled you flush against him, your arms flung over his shoulders. The kiss heated up fast, his hands gripping at you to try to pull you even closer, your fingers threading through his hair, shaky sighs and satisfied hums filling the elevator.

Just as you both pulled away for air, the doors opened on the floor seven levels down from where Jaehyun’s apartment was. An old couple appeared immediately and stepped into the elevator. You took a step to the side to get away from Hyuck, but stood on the hoodie Haechan had apparently dropped. You picked it up, holding it in front of you with both hands.

“I told you it was the wrong floor,” said the woman, closing her eyes in annoyance.

You tried your best to look presentable as they bickered, straightening your shirt and wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand. Hyuck did the same, combing his hands through his hair and adjusting his jeans. Once the reality of the situation sunk in for the both of you, it became hard to even look at each other without laughing. You had to pretend to yawn in order to hide your smile and Haechan pulled his lips between his teeth to literally bite his own smile back.

Once the couple got out on their floor (still one below the top), you and Hyuck fell into laughter, with him literally falling to the floor on hands and knees. You leaned against the mirrored wall of the elevator and laughed in silent breaths and funny hiccoughing sounds. Soon, the door opened and you gathered yourself as much as you could before you helped Haechan up off the floor. Halfway down the rows of apartment doors you and Haechan had calmed down, the mix of embarrassment, tension and perhaps a bit of tiredness having died down.

The hallway was carpeted and filled with the muffled sound of music coming from one of the residents on the floor. Your heart nearly dropped when Haechan stopped in front of the door from which you were sure the music was coming.

He pulled out his phone and, not letting go of your hand which he had been holding onto since you helped him up, texted Jaehyun. A few seconds later, the door opened to Jaehyun, who seemed half asleep as he leaned on the doorframe. You were glad the mood of the apartment seemed to be the opposite of a houseparty.

“Yeah?” he blinked slowly, eyes slightly red.

Haechan snorted at Jaehyun’s state- because he was most definitely in one- “Johnny asked us to bring you this,” he pointed to the hoodie- which was now completely crinkled and had a dirt mark on it- which you held out to him.

Jaehyun took the hoodie, not even looking at it. He looked between the two of you, his gaze falling down to your intertwined hands, “Fuck you, Haechan,” he said, head tilting back in annoyance, “Now I owe Johnny ₩10,000.”

“What?!” Haechan’s jaw dropped

“I have a bet with Johnny,” he said, yawning halfway through and leaning his head on the doorframe, “And I just lost.”

“How long have you had this bet?!” Haechan sounded genuinely betrayed.

“About 15 minutes,” he said nonchalantly, moving his hair out of his face, only for it to fall right back where it was.

That had you confused, “What was the bet?”

“That you two would get your shit together by the time you got here,” Hyuck scoffed and looked away in disbelief, tongue in his cheek, “Oh and I think Taeil owes Taeyong money now, too.”

Right then, your phone chimed with a message from the gambling brother in question and you opened it while the two boys argued about Hyuck himself not being in on any of the bets.

the youngest: hey, can u guys bring milk? its finished :/

you: sighs alright

you: btw apparently you owe taeyong money now xx :)

You locked your phone before you could see his reaction and slid it back into your pocket. You turned to Hyuck again and sighed, “Taeil needs milk,” you stated incredulously.

He raised his eyebrows, “Okay now he owes both of us. And this isn’t over- next time there’s a bet I want in,” he said frowning at the older boy like a little kid.

The two of you said goodbye to Jaehyun, who kicked the door closed behind him, and returned to the car once again.

“Were we both really that obvious?” you asked as you clipped in your seatbelt.

“I don’t know about you but I was really good at hiding it,” his smug- and obviously sarcastic- tone made you cackle.

“Yeah that’s why Johnny knew you’ve liked me ‘since forever,’” you said, quoting the words you’d heard through the bathroom wall.

His eyes widened so much you thought they’d come tumbling out of their sockets, “You heard that?” his gaze was switching rapidly between you and the road now.

You smirked at him and nodded simply.

“By the way,” Haechan’s voice was a bit croaky now, after all it was nearing 3am, “You will go out with me right? Like tomorrow night?”

“Of course,you owe me two actually,” you didn’t have the energy to tease him further, your eyelids were practically dragging themselves across your eyes.

The last thing you saw before you fell asleep was Haechan’s flushed cheeks and the giant smile on his face.

i just remembered you asked for a tag o-O @infnteen sorry for the late one!

if anyone else wants to be tagged in my works please lmk!:)

if you enjoyed this, buy me a ko-fi!

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avengerscompound · 4 years

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Until the End of the World - 10

Until the End of the World: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 1801

Rating: E

Warnings: pregnancy

Synopsis: Four years after Steve and Bucky got to the bottom of the HYDRA conspiracy that had led to you and your son being hunted for the first three years of his life, you, Bucky, and Steve have carved out a nice life together. Things are calm and you feel like a family unit. When Geo starts calling Bucky and Steve ‘dad’, a decision is made to try and add to your family.

Things aren’t as calm as they seem. When your pregnancy hits the papers, HYDRA rears its head once again, and Steve and Bucky need to track you down to protect the family they had created.

Chapter 10

The tabloid sites all latched on to the story of you being pregnant very quickly. Due to the fact you were often seen out with either Bucky or Steve or both, there had been speculation about who exactly you were. Theories went from dating one and cheating on them with the other. Being a ‘close family friend’. Dating one and the other being a close friend. Bouncing between them both like a ping-pong ball. Many fans speculated that they were polyamorous. Bucky had even made the mistake of going deep into the ‘Avengers fandom’ and discovered people doing what they called ‘shipping’ the three of you together. Not just the three of you but him and Steve with all kinds of people. He’d stopped looking when he saw people writing stories about him and Tony together. It turned out there were things he was better off not knowing.

None of the tabloids ever assumed polyamory though, and neither he nor Steve was going to confirm it for them. That made your pregnancy the subject of a lot of speculation. Whose baby was it? The most loved version of the story was that it was Bucky’s love child conceived while you were cheating on Steve with him.

It was a little stressful, but Bucky had heard worse. There was still a vocal majority that considered him a threat that should have been tried for his crimes years ago. Bucky had learned a long time ago not to google himself unless he was feeling particularly self-destructive. You, on the other hand, were still learning, so it took some reassuring that this matter was no one else's business.

Besides the ever-present gossip mill, things were going well. Every doctor's appointment showed that the baby was developing well. All the tests you had were coming back fine. You seemed to be full of energy and Geo was starting to get excited about the idea of having a little brother or sister. The new place was nearly finished. Bucky hadn’t been sent on a mission for a long time. He felt happy - and that was a feeling he liked to experience as fully as he could because he knew from experience how fleeting it could be.

The three of you had decided to take Geo along to the ultrasound where you’d be finding out the sex. He had only seen pictures of the baby so far and you’d thought he might like to see them moving around and find out if he was having a brother or a sister. According to you, the baby was kicking a lot at the moment, so you weren't worried about bad news being delivered.

Geo sat on Bucky’s lap while Steve sat beside you, holding your hand as the technician squeeze the gel onto your stomach. “Have they been kicking much?” Brown asked as she began to move the wand around on your stomach. Bucky looked up at the screen, waiting for the baby to come into view.

You smiled and nodded. “So much. The little nugget is going to be a fighter.”

Brown smiled. “Just like it’s dads, huh?” She said. “Has anyone else felt the kicks?”

“Not yet,” Steve answered. “I can’t wait though.”

The baby came into view on the screen. You’d been getting pretty regular ultrasounds with your checkups and Bucky liked how the little blob was getting bigger and looking more like a baby every time. “It shouldn’t be too much longer. I’d bet by the end of the week you get a little flutter against your hand.”

Steve looked at Bucky and grinned and Bucky couldn’t help but lean over and peck his lips. Geo didn’t seem that happy with the action and he wriggled in Bucky’s lap. Bucky chuckled and pulled back. “Can you see the baby, G?” He asked, pointing at the screen.

Geo nodded. “The machine is really cool how it works. It’s using sound to make the shape of the baby inside mom.”

“That’s right,” Brown said. “You’re a smart kid.”

Geo looked up at Bucky and grinned obviously very proud of himself. Bucky smiled and ruffled his hair.

“If you see here,” Brown said. “This is the baby's head, and their spine. They have hands and feet and you can even see their toes and fingers…”

Geo watched on fascinated by the digital image of his new sibling. Not just because that was his new sibling, but because he had a scientific fascination with where it was developmentally and how the machines could show what they show. He asked lots of questions about whether it could hear or see and how it absorbed food. Bucky couldn’t really remember what kids were like, and so he had no idea if this was advance thinking for a seven-year-old or not. He felt like it was advanced though, and he made a mental note to ask you later.

“Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?” Geo asked.

“I can find out,” the tech said. “Is that okay, Captain Rogers?”

Steve chuckled. “It’s not just my decision to make.”

Brown hid her face behind her hands for a moment and shook her head. “I’m so sorry, that is such a default reaction.”

“It’s fine,” Steve said. “Please just relax. We’re just patients. And yes, we already decided we wanted to find out.”

She moved the wand around to get it into position. “Well, bud,” Brown said. “Did you have a preference?”

“I dunno,” Geo said. “I don’t have either.”

“Well you don’t have a brother,” Brown said. “You’re going to have a little sister.”

“It’s a girl?” Bucky asked, looking over at you and Steve to see your reactions. Steve looked like he’d been lit up from the inside, and tears had pricked your eyes.

“That’s right. It’s a girl,” Brown confirmed.

“A little girl,” Steve said, softly.

“Now we have one of each,” Bucky said, and Geo turned around on Bucky’s lap and hugged him. Bucky closed his arms around the boy, hugging him tightly. “You’re gonna be such a good big brother,” Bucky whispered as he hugged the boy.

“Do you want any pictures this time?” Brown asked.

“Yes, please,” you said, quickly.

Brown cleaned off the paddle and pressed the button to print out the photos of the baby. You grabbed some kleenex from the counter and cleaned the gel off your stomach. “You think Morgan will be excited there’s going to be another little girl around?” Steve asked Geo.

“Probably,” Geo said. “As long as she likes robots too. Umm… you think the baby will be able to talk to the computers like I can?”

Steve furrowed his brow as he helped you up. Bucky shook his head to clear it. It was strange, despite the fact that Geo had powers that he’d clearly gotten from you, and the fact both he and Steve had the Super Serum, the thought of a super-powered baby had never really crossed their minds. It was like all that was just such a normal part of their lives now, they didn’t really think about how it impacted things. You didn’t have powers and it was possible the only reason Geo did was that both you and his father had been through experimentation so close to his conception. It could be that those drugs were now completely out of your system, but no one had thought to look into that first.

“You know what?” Steve said eventually. “I don’t know.”

“Probably should have considered that before we dived in with both feet, huh?” You said.

“You could ask your obstetrician about doing an amniocentesis,” Brown suggested. “Then they could do a genetic workup. Check for abnormalities.”

“Don’t they have risks involved?” You asked.

“Sure, but normally it’s one of those things where there are risks involved either way, and you decide which outcome is worse,” Brown explained.

You furrowed your brow and nodded and Bucky wondered what you were thinking. “Thank you, Miss Brown,” Steve said. “We’ll see you next time.”

“Of course,” she said, brightly. “See you.”

The four of you walked out into the ward and headed to the elevator. “I’m sorry if I upset you,” Geo said as the doors opened.

“You didn’t, G. Don’t worry,” you assured him, kissing the top of his head. “It’s just not something we thought about when we probably should have. Because you got your powers from me and your birth dad, but Bucky and Steve have their own powers.”

“Well, we’re enhanced,” Steve corrected them. “Not the same as what you have.”

“I think…” Bucky said slowly, aware that this was not a discussion that should be held in front of Geo, but also knowing that the boy needed to be reassured that his powers were not a negative, nor would he be losing the sister he really only just met. “I think it might be too late to worry about. I mean… what if they do find out the baby is enhanced? It’s not like we would love them any less, or not want them. They’d just be special, like Geo.”

“Of course,” you said quickly. “We would have done this either way I think.”

“So… let’s just wait and see. We don’t want to risk anything bad happening,” Bucky said. “The baby looks normal, so we know it’s not a tentacle beast.”

Geo started laughing. “That would be so cool.”

“She might not be able to talk to computers even if she does have powers though, G,” you said, stifling your own laugh. “When I had powers I could hear people’s thoughts. And your dad, he could run really fast.”

“Wow,” Geo said. “I hope she can fly.”

“Oh my goodness,” you said. “I don’t.”

“Yeah, imagine having to change a diaper on a baby and it’s zooming around over your head,” Bucky said, making Geo breakdown into fits of giggles.

“Alright, Geo,” Steve said. “You go wash up and we’ll have some lunch. Do you want to see if Morgan can come to play and you can tell her all about your sister?”

“Yeah, alright,” Geo said, running off to the bathroom.

Steve turned to you and Bucky and took your hands. “It’s going to be fine,” he said. “We can face whatever happens, I know we can.”

“Let’s just hope they can’t fly,” you joked.

“We’ll handle that too,” Steve said.

“Yeah, we’ll put a little harness on them, and weigh them down with rocks,” Bucky joked and you burst out laughing.

Steve wrapped his arms around you and pulled Bucky in close so that all three of you were holding each other. Bucky closed his eyes and breathed you both in, confident that together, you could all handle whatever powers she may or may not have.

// NEXT

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #pregnancy #until the end of the world

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delaber · 3 years

Text

Just Friends (Part 12)

Story Summary: After moving to America for a 3-month long internship, you meet two interesting characters on a boring night out.

Word Count: 4.6K

Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol, minor drug use, smut, angst, slight dom!Rafa, swearing, and loads of British references (sorry not sorry lol)

Chapter Note: Okay so I probably should’ve tagged this story with angst. Whoops. Sorry guys

Tag List: lonelydance mysearchforgratification ramp-it-up blndspotting summerofsnowflakes exrthangel honeysucklechocolatedrippin captaintightpants58

Other Parts: See Masterlist

On Friday at 11 pm, you practically ran out the door of the lab, happy that you had managed to get so much work done within the past week. You needed some well-deserved time off and you could not wait to see Rafa and party with him and his friends all night. You had changed into the green dress that Samantha had picked out for you and was careful not to get it all sweaty as you fast-paced to the closest metro-line, hopping on the first train, eager to party.

As you arrived outside the guys' house, you could tell that it was already packed with people as laughter and rap music was booming out of the open windows in the kitchen. With a significant bounce in your step, you walked to the front door and stepped inside. The music was almost unbearably loud inside the house as you took a look around the room.

With Diggs' birthday present in hand (a bottle of Scotch and some British toffees) you did a quick scan for either the birthday boy or Rafa but was interrupted by a voice coming from the kitchen, "are you looking for Daveed? ‘Cause he disappeared into the bathroom with a girl a couple of minutes ago," a beautiful woman smiled at you. You vaguely recognised her as the girl who'd played Rafa's girlfriend in Blindspotting.

"Glad to hear that he's enjoying his birthday," you laughed, "you wouldn't happen to know where I can find Rafael?"

The girl's eyes widened, "Ooh! You're the British chick that Rafa's been on and on about for months now!" she presented her hand to you, "I'm Jasmine."

You shook her hand but your mind was elsewhere, "Rafa's been on about me... for months?"

"Yeah! I first heard about you way back in November at our annual Thanksgiving-party. He didn't know how to woo you," Jasmine smiled warmly, "and when I saw him again on Christmas day, he was still talking about wooing you even though he hadn't seen you since."

"You're kidding me!" you laughed.

"Nope!" Jasmine joined you in laughing, "he was clearly wounded by how completely uninterested you were," she chuckled.

"Aw, that poor little famous man!"

"Yeah it does get to his head sometimes. So it's really great when someone like you finally shows up and forces him to take it down a notch."

"Always happy to kindly pick him apart," you joked.

"Oh, you did way more than that!" Jasmine smiled, "to this day he will not shut up about you," she groaned playfully, "what happened? Did he finally drop by your house as we all advised him to do?"

"Nope," you shook your head with a low chuckle, "we actually bumped into each other randomly at new years."

"Ugh, I knew he'd chicken out!" Jasmine sighed, "Well I'm glad to hear that it worked out anyway - even though I have to admit that it's slightly hurtful that he didn't take any of his friends' advice," she smiled, "especially since we all told him to do the same thing; just leave a damn note."

Although you were flattered that Rafa had been talking to his friends about you even before you'd bumped into him again on new years, you had to admit that it was mildly surprising too. You were slowly realising that Rafa may have downplayed exactly how much he had thought about you in the weeks between your first and second encounter.

Jasmine's voice brought you back to reality, "You got him good," she laughed, "I don't think he's had such a challenge in years! It clearly humbled him that you didn't throw yourself at him at the first chance you got. We all adore you for leaving him desperate for more on the curb."

"Glad to be of service!" You laughed as well, already fond of Jasmine. She seemed just as carefree and bubbly as Samantha.

"Why don't we go see if we can find him? I know he's been dying for you to get here, looking at his phone every two seconds," Jasmine smiled at you.

"Yeah, I've been looking forward to it too," you smiled.

"I think he's playing beer pong in the living room."

You put down Daveed's present on a small table and followed Jasmine to the next room where most of the party goers were either dancing, talking in clusters, or playing various drinking games. Just as Jasmine had predicted, Rafa was playing beer pong with a group of people looking excitedly at the game unfolding before them. Rafa was in a light shirt and black slacks, the golden bracelet he always wore swung loosely around his wrist. His hair was in its normal slight swoop, the stubble on his chin a bit longer than you'd seen it before. He looked damned good as he was laughing with his friends.

"Hey Casal!" Jasmine said and gained his attention.

Rafa looked up at her with an expectant look on his face, clearly waiting for her continue speaking. His gaze quickly flickered to you, and when your eyes finally met, he had the same reaction as the night you'd met on new years eve; eyes softening significantly, smile slowly cracking on his face until his mouth was spread as wide as it possibly could, a hand flying to his heart as he took in your appearance. Without breaking his eye contact with you, he padded his teammate on the back and mumbled something to him before he stepped over to you, immediately pulling you tight against his chest.

"Hi," he whispered softly against you, "fuck, you look amazing," he grumbled, "I love that dress," his hands slid over your back and came to a rest just above your hip bone.

"Thanks. You look very handsome," you threw your arms around his waist, and looked up at him, almost wishing you could kiss him.

"Is it the beard?" he smiled, a slight growl to his voice.

"Yeah, you look almost grown-up," you chuckled, "where's the snarky boy from the bar?"

"Oh, he's long gone," Rafa winked down at you before he let you go when his teammate shouted his name.

"Hey, why don't you go make yourself a drink and I'll join you shortly?" he smiled, and sent Jasmine a look that silently asked her to take care of you.

"Come," Jasmine tugged on your arm, "I could use a drink as well."

You reluctantly left Rafa to go back to his game of beer pong and followed Jasmine to the other end of the living room. You both mixed a piña colada from the self-service bar, and sat down in a vacant spot in the sofa.

You looked around at the rest of the people in the sofa area, eyes almost immediately interlocking with the man you had met in the living room as you had snuck out the door on January 1st. He looked at you playfully, "Oh hey! I almost didn't recognise you with your clothes on!"

"Oh god," you groaned and laughed in the hopes of shrugging off the embarrassment you felt at the thought, "Definitely not my finest moment!"

"You don't say," he laughed and filled Jasmine in on what had happened that morning. Apparently, they knew each other as well.

"You walked out on Rafa on new years day as well?" Jasmine chuckled, "No wonder he was so grumpy when I called and wished him and Diggs a happy new year."

"Oof, you should've seen him when he found out you'd snuck out the door," the man sent you an anxious smile, "he was not happy! ...But you made up I'm guessing," he said, still smiling widely, "seeing as you're here and all."

"We did," you nodded, slightly embarrassed by how all of his friends apparently were involved in your situation but you shrugged it off with a joke, "so he only uses his friends to unload when he's frustrated? He hasn't even gotten around to tell you all about the happy ending and our rekindling friendship," you smiled.

"Yeah, he's a dick," Jasmine chuckled.

Sofa-man laughed, "Nah, we can take it. We all know that he's just insanely private about the women he fall in love with."

"The women he fall in love with?!!?!" You shrieked but no one really seemed to hear neither your voice nor your heart that was beating like crazy in your chest.

Rafa was in love????

"Oh come on," Jasmine rolled her eyes at sofa-man, "He's not private at all! He just hasn't had anyone to tell us about for years! You know Rafa. He's a big softie posing as a tough guy."

"Yeah, well that's true," the man laughed, "It's actually quite nice to finally meet the woman who was able to tie that boy down."

You felt yourself going dizzy. This was a lot to take in. Did you already mean as much to Rafa as his friends were implying? You were aware of the fact that he was insanely sexually attracted to you and that he was fond of your company - and if you were completely honest with yourself, you also knew that Rafa had a major crush on you but by the way his friends were talking about it Rafa had fallen in lo-

"Heeeeey!" a man behind you broke your stream of thoughts as he put his hands on your shoulders, "you came!"

You looked up to a smiling Daveed who looked quite tipsy.

"Daveed!" you did your best to look excited as if the news that Jasmine and the other guy had broken to you a few seconds before hadn't toppled you, "happy birthday!"

"Aw thanks," he hugged you, "did you say hi to Rafa? He's right over there," he pointed to an overly-confident Rafa who was juggling two ping pong balls.

"Yeah, we just came from over there," Jasmine laughed from beside you.

"Oh Jas!" Daveed said excitedly as if he'd only just realised that she was there, "I see you've finally met Rafa's girl!"

Before Jasmine had even had the chance to think of an answer, you swooped around, "not his girl," you pointed at Daveed and said for what felt like the millionth time since you'd gotten to know him. "I'm not Rafa's girl," you looked back at Jasmine and the man from January 1st too. They both shot you weird looks.

"Oh, trust me. You're his girl," Daveed snickered, apparently not catching on to your tone.

"I assure you I'm not!" you smiled sweetly, "we're just friends. Please stop calling me his girl. We’re friends,” you were aware that your voice was sounding desperate and pleadingly.

The smile finally disappeared from Daveed's face when he heard your tone of voice, "Are you sure Rafa's aware of that?" he furrowed his eyebrows.

"He knows!" you nodded to convince him.

"Uh, that's not really the vibe he's been sending," sofa-man said quietly from behind you.

You looked between the three friends, all of them sending you concerned looks.

"Uuuuh.... I... I need to run to the bathroom real quick," you said suddenly and stood up from the sofa, grateful that your feet took you away from the conversation without you really having to steer them. They walked in the opposite direction of the bathroom, steering towards the pool area outside instead. Air! You needed air!

You quickly walked by Rafa and his group of friends playing beer pong, praying that he didn't see you, but luckily it seemed as if he was far too concerned with the last cup standing in front of the opposite team to notice anything else.

Quickly, you opened the door to the outside, snaked your way out and slid it soundlessly shut behind you. You sat down on a bench overlooking the pool thinking about what Rafa's friends had said. Was he really so smitten with you? You couldn't decide whether you felt happy or suffocated. You were going home in a week for crying out loud! If Rafa had fallen in love with you it would complicate things a bunch! You cursed yourself for having played along for so long when deep down you knew that it was bound to happen to at least one of you. You felt like a bloody idiot!

Although... if you were completely honest with yourself, you had to admit that Rafa wasn't the only one who was smitten; you had fallen for him pretty hard as well. You had tried to fight it relentlessly but in the end his sincere nature and sweet gestures had made cupid shoot heart-shaped arrows at you. You thought of the last couple of weeks and how hard it had been for Rafa to keep his hands to himself. It had been quite sweet how involuntary it had all been and how he had practically touched or kissed you at every chance he got. He just couldn't help himself. The thought alone of his helpless, wandering hands made the butterflies flutter awake in your stomach. And you realised that even though you had fought hard to avoid it, you were actually crazy in love with him too. It felt as if you were high as you finally let yourself indulge in the feeling of being in love with him. The feeling ended abruptly, however, as you realised that the two of you didn't have a happy ending. That you still had to go home. That everything was indeed screwed.

Your train of thoughts was interrupted by the sound of the door behind you sliding slightly open before it was closed again. Not two seconds later, you were joined by Daveed who sat down next to you.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked you as he put a reassuring hand on your arm.

"Yep!" you said a little too chipper to sound believable.

"Is it Rafa?"

You didn't know why you had felt the need to pretend in front of Daceed, so you immediately let down your guard, "how'd you guess," you sighed unenthusiastically.

"What'd the idiot do now?" he too sighed.

"He didn't do anything."

"What are you sitting out here all sad for then?"

"Because I just had an epiphany," you looked up at Daveed.

"An epiphany?" He sent you an amused smile, "sounds interesting. About what?"

"About Rafa," you squinted at him as if the sun was blinding you, "I think we're in love..."

Daveed's smile grew wide, "oh, great! So you finally admit it? He's going to be stoked!"

"It's not exactly great news..."

"Why not?" Daveed laughed, "when is being in love ever bad news?"

"It is when one part is leaving the country in a week," you shot him a pained expression.

"Oh. Yeah," Daveed said slowly, his sassiness visibly dropping to zero, "That part sucks, I know."

"Yep!"

"Which is why I don't understand why you aren't in there soaking up every last minute you have left with him."

"Ugh," you buried your face in your hands, a small desperate laugh escaping your lips, "because this is so complicated. I didn't mean for this to happen. I'm usually so in control!"

Daveed laughed, "well I for one know that Rafa has been desperate to get you to drop the act and just smooch him already."

"Oh my god," you laughed into your hands, "I can't believe he's even involved all of his friends. Jasmine and that guy you were hanging with on new years day knew exactly who I was. They told me that Rafa's been ready from the beginning because I was so dismissive towards him."

"Yeah, you spellbound him," Daveed laughed.

"Did I bring this upon myself?" You squinted up at Daveed.

"You're putting too much on your own shoulders. Rafa knew from the get-go that you had to go back to Europe after a couple of months - granted, at first, I think he just saw you as an interesting fuck, but he could've stepped out when he realised that he wanted to hold you tight and buy you hotdogs and what not," he elbowed you with a laugh.

"Yeah... yeah you're right. Do you think he'll handle it alright when I go fly back home?"

He smiled secretively, "he's probably gonna go full emo."

You looked up at Rafa's best friend who you knew would have his work cut out for him, "sorry..."

"Not your fault," Daveed laughed, "and I'm guessing that you'll still keep talking and maybe fly back and forth when you have the chance. I can handle emo-Rafa if you just handle happy-Rafa."

"Sounds like a fair distribution of roles," you laughed before going all serious, "what do I do now?"

"You tell him of course," Daveed smiled brightly, "and you two just enjoy the upcoming week. I'll find somewhere to stay so you can have crazy monkey sex all over the house without having to think about the cock-block of a roomie," he winked at you.

"You truly possess big 'best mate'-energy," you laughed.

"I do," he nodded.

You smiled at him for a second before the seriousness of the situation hit you again, "wow, I wish I wasn't so..." you couldn't find the right word.

"European?" Daveed finished.

"Yeah," you chuckled, "if I didn't live so fucking far away from here, it'd be a completely different situation."

"I know," Daveed said and hugged you, "cheer up. It's gonna suck for a while but you'll find a way."

"Thanks," you mumbled into his shoulder.

You were still hugging when you heard the door slide open behind you.

"I thought I saw you two out here," Rafa's voice called happily when he stepped outside.

Daveed slowly let go of you, allowing you to turn around and face Rafa who had a large grin plastered on his face.

"My best friend and my... other friend," he smiled drunkenly, "what a sight."

"I'll give you two some privacy," Daveed said with a wink before he went inside.

Rafa took Daveed's seat next to you, immediately pulling you close, "why were you and Diggs sitting out here all alone? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," you smiled up at him, "yeah, everything's good."

"So you don't know why Jasmine looked at me all worried just before?"

"I kind of ditched her," you sent him an apologetic look.

"Aw, you don't like Jas?"

"I do! I just had to get some air and clear my head," you smiled.

"Yeah? Long day at the office?"

"You have no idea!" You laughed, "I hope you had a better day than I did."

"Mmh, I'm having the best day," he buried his face in your neck, "It's Diggs' birthday and you're here with me and I'm just having a really, really great night."

"Alright," you laughed, "well, in connection with that, I have something to tell you that I hope will make it even better," you grinned while he nuzzled against your neck. He was being really cute and you couldn't help but laugh at him, "this is a big deal, could you not act like a lovesick puppy right now?"

"No," he kissed your collarbone, "what do you want to tell me," he chuckled drunkenly.

You took a deep breath, "Rafa -"

"Mmmh," he interrupted you with a growl as he licked his lips, "I love it when you say my name," he grinned up at you.

"Be serious for once!" You laughed, "I'm about to blow your mind over here!"

"Mmmh, can't wait," he smiled, lips inching closer and closer to yours, his eyes glistening in the dim light from the pool. He smelled of beer and whiskey and it made you feel both adventurous and safe at the same time. His right hand was warm against the back of your neck as he closed the distance between you, his lips moving slowly and sensually against yours while his left hand was stroaking your thigh. He was humming slightly as he moved his body closer to you, the hand he had on your neck travelling to the middle of your thoracic spine where he pushed slightly, bringing your torso even closer to his. Kissing Rafa and finally allowing yourself to do so without feeling bad about it felt more amazing than you had ever imagined, and you felt your heart explode in a heap of colours as you both poured yourself into the slow kiss. All the nervousness you'd felt only moments before was now gone, and you suddenly couldn't wait to tell him that you were in love with him. Slowly, you pulled your lips away from his, earning yourself a small whimper from him.

"Rafa," you tried once more.

"I know, I know. You don't have to say anything," he stated flatly with a smile, his words a bit slurred from the alcohol, "I already know what you're gonna say."

"You do?" Amused, you arched an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah," he smiled confidently, "you're gonna call me out for kissing you and for wanting to fuck your brains out, and you're gonna remind me of your code and the fact that you're leaving in 7 days and blablabla," he said cockily, "and because I care about you, I'll pretend that I care about your code, so I'll tell you sorry and that I'll be on my best behaviour, and you'll accept my apology and I'll patiently wait for the next opportunity and start all over again until you finally say to hell with it all and act like you really want to. And around it goes," he smirked, his lips suddenly close to yours again, "does that sound about right?"

You blinked a few times while his words settled in your brain. Did he just say what you think he did? "Wait what? Hold up Rafa. Back up a second; You patiently wait for opportunities to overstep the boundaries of the friendship that we both agreed on? You keep pushing until I say to hell with it and let you do whatever you want?" You repeated with closed eyes, wondering if you'd understood him correctly, "are you saying that you did all of those more-than-friendly touches, and hugs, and kisses on purpose? That you were in fact able to keep your hands to yourself but you pretended not to be so you could make me say 'to hell with it?'," you looked at him rather unimpressed.

"I wanted to win you over," he shrugged with a crooked smile, "did I manage? It feels like I managed," he snickered. He did not look as cute right now as he had done only seconds before, the smell of beer and whiskey suddenly a tad bit sickening.

"So what you're saying is that you lied and pretended to be interested in being friends with me when in reality, all you could think about was planning your next move so I'd let you screw me?"

"Aw, come on. You're making me sound like a villain," he groaned.

"Rafa, let me get straight with you," you said sternly, "Don't you understand that I made those rules so this wouldn't happen?"

He finally seemed to understand the severity of the situation, "so what wouldn't happen?" He spoke in an offended tone as he straightened up.

"So we wouldn't fall for each other! And now I find out that you had an elaborate scheme to get me to throw myself at you when I told you specifically that I was not interested in that? What kind of a sociopat does that?" You stood up from the bench, anger bubbling more and more in your veins as you slowly realised what he'd done, "what the fuck, Rafa?!"

"You think I did it completely for myself?" He asked calmly but with offence still staining his tone of voice, "you think I did it to somehow lure you into sleeping with me? You really don't see that I did it because I thought you deserved to listen to your instincts for once instead of doing what you think is the right thing to do?"

"You had no right!"

"Hey, don't you dare put all the blame on me!" His voice was raised slightly as he too stood up from the bench, "you were just as bad at keeping your hands to yourself as I was! Inviting me up for tea and fucking cuddling," he spat.

"I had one weak moment!" You held up your finger.

"Oh don't give me that shit! You had several! How about kissing me in the living room after the concert? And a few days ago in Diggs' car? Or masturbating in front of me - or even whipping out your tits in the bathroom when you know I'm crazy about you?"

"That's the problem, Rafa! I thought you were just sexually frustrated! Had I known you were bonkers about me this whole time, I wouldn't have allowed it to come this far!"

"Oh you wouldn't have allowed it?" He said in a wild tone of voice, "well I'm fucking sorry for having my own free will. As if I need your permission to fall for you."

"I can't believe that I got caught up in your web," you scoffed. Mostly to yourself, "I mean; I knew you were dangerous! I knew you'd have the ability to smooth talk your way into my heart - but never in my wildest imagination did I think that you'd screw me over and do all of this on purpose to get me to fall for you. What did you do it for? Did you do it to check off the girl who rejected you? Self gratification? Bragging rights to your mates? A couple of weeks of sex? What Rafa?"

"Oh fuck you," he spat, "don't give me that shit when you're clearly just as crazy about me as I am about you."

"I'm not sure I am anymore," you said rather childishly.

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that so you can fuck off back to England without ever having to think of me again," he panted, "is that what you want? Is that really what you think is realistic? If you think you can put me in a box labelled 'my PhD-trip to California' and never think of me again, then you're clearly not as clever as I thought you were. Do you really think that just because you've tried to stay abstinent, that you could leave every thought of me across the ocean?" His voice broke as he took a step closer to you.

"I don't know what I thought," you said calmly, eyes piercing through him, "clearly, it was a mistake to engage in anything with you."

He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down so he could be rational, "look, I'm sorry if I tricked you. It really wasn't my intention and I clearly made a mistake and you got hurt. I just need you to understand that I didn't do it on purpose; I just wanted to get you to act on your feelings instead of staying in your head. I just wanted you to enjoy your time here. With me."

"You ruined it, Rafa," you said slowly, "I don't care if you hurt me on purpose or not. You still did. You manipulated me."

"Baby come on," he croaked, his voice cracking.

"I'm not your baby," you whispered.

You looked at each other for a few seconds, his eyes drunk and hurt. "Is this is then?" He croaked with desperate hands gesturing to nothing in particular, "do you really think that my actions are so unforgivable that we can't see each other anymore?"

"No, it's not unforgivable. I just don't see the point in forgiving you when I leave in a bit anyway."

"You're breaking my heart," he said quietly.

"You broke mine first."

#rafael casal x reader #rafael casal #daveed diggs #blindspotting #rafael casal imagine #smut #rafael casal fanfiction #bay boys

55 notes · View notes

maybeimamuppet · 3 years

Text

dance with you

“Jan, calm down, you’ll think of something,” Damian comforts, patting her back gently as Janis lies face-down on her bed and lets out a groan.

“Damian, prom is in a month! And it has to be perfect, it’s our senior year,” Janis huffs into her pillow.

“You’ll think of something perfect. You could... fill her locker with ping pong balls that say ‘prom’ and then when she opens it and they all fall out say ‘I finally got the balls to ask you to prom’?” Damian suggests.

Janis chuckles at that, finally poking her head out. “Is that how Elijah asked you?”

“Maybe,” Damian mumbles. “I thought it would at least make you smile.”

“You got me, then,” Janis says. “Ugh, why is this so hard? I had an easier time with the ACT.”

“Feelings.”

“Gross. I don’t want ‘em anymore,” Janis sighs.

“Just think of stuff she’s into. Like animals or math. You can borrow Pippa if you need to.” Damian says as Janis leans against his shoulder.

“Animals... math... I can probably work with that,” Janis says, a hint of a plan forming in her mind.

“There‘s my Janjan. You go Janjan. Ask the girl you’re already dating to prom,” Damian teases.

“Shut up! You know Caddy loves those tacky promposal things you see on YouTube, I gotta do something dorky,” Janis says. Cady really does love them, she gets so excited every time someone at school gets promposed to, the tackier the better.

“And you’ll think of something perfectly sappy and gross. I have faith.”

“Thanks, D.”

————-

On Monday, Janis uses her study hall period to hunt down Kevin G. Cady is in English on the other side of the building, so unless she goes really out of her way to go to the bathroom there’s no chance of her finding out what Janis is up to.

She finds Kevin in the library, reading what appears to be a math textbook cover to cover. Janis puts on some fake confidence and marches her way up to his table, sliding into the chair across from him.

“Yo, Sarkisian, how ya been?” Kevin asks, closing the book and looking up at her.

“Um... fine. Listen, can you help me with something?” Janis says hastily.

“Depends,” Kevin responds. “What do you need and what do I get out of it?”

“I’m trying to think of a way to ask Caddy to prom, is there any sort of, like, equation or something that would spell out prom if she solved it or something? Something math related I could do?” Janis pleads. She had decided getting animals involved was a little more risky than she was willing to try.

“Oh. Uh, I don’t... actually know about that. I can check with Norbury and get back to you?” Kevin says.

“Sure. Just, would you be able to do it soon? Like, sometime this week? I wanna give her time to get everything prepared, and prom is less than a month away.”

“Sure thing, Sarks. Don’t stress, Africa never shuts up about you. She’ll say yes.”

“Thanks, Kevin. I really appreciate it.” Janis says, relieved.

“Anything for Heron. We’d be a fuckin’ wreck without her.”

—————

On Wednesday, Janis is sitting in art when none other than Kevin comes barreling through the door, making a beeline for her.

“Yo, Picasso, Norbury and I have somethin’ for ya,” He calls.

“Really?” Janis asks, tucking her paintbrush behind her ear.

“Yeah. Um, Norbury got really excited when I told her you were trying to think of a good way to ask Africa and did a lot of research. They have a strange relationship. Anyway. She found this dope series of equations that spells ‘prom’ once it’s graphed. Norbury said you can ask her during Mathletes practice on Friday using it, if you’re into that.” Kevin says.

“Oh, that’s perfect. I’ll talk to Ms. Norbury, I have a free next. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Janis says. “I owe you big time.”

“You wanna design a new logo for my DJ business?” He asks with a slightly creepy wink.

“Sure. Uh, how long do I have?” Janis asks, pulling out her sketchbook to get going.

“As long as you need, I... um. Don’t get many gigs. Also, don’t fuck it up with Heron, please.” Kevin begs.

“I’ll do my best,” Janis says, determined not to.

Janis heads to Ms. Norbury’s classroom next, knocking on the doorframe. This is her plan period, so there’s nobody else there.

“Oh, Janis, hello. Kevin told me you might come by,” She says once she looks up.

“Um, yeah. He said you found something I could use to ask Cady to prom?” Janis says nervously. Ms. Norbury is one of the sweetest teachers at their school, but Janis always gets anxious when she talks to adults.

“I do indeed,” Ms. Norbury says, pulling out a sheet of very complicated looking numbers and letters. “This looks like this, once it’s been graphed.” She flips the page over to reveal a graph with what looks like ‘prom ?’ in cursive.

“This is perfect. Can Caddy really solve this kind of stuff?” Janis asks, looking at the equations again.

“She can,” Ms. Norbury confirms. “She’s my MVP, so to speak. If you’d like, we have practice this Friday after school, we can squeeze this in at the end.”

“That would be great,” Janis breathes with relief.

They decide that Janis would drop by on Friday morning to drop off a few supplies, and then show up before Cady in the afternoon. She would hide in the classroom storage closet until Cady solved her graph, and then pop out with prom balloons and some flowers.

It’s just tacky enough for Cady to love, and not quite tacky enough for Janis to hate. It’s perfect.

———

Friday rolls around quicker than Janis is quite ready for. She wakes up two hours early to head to the party store and get the balloons, and then to the convenience store next door to grab a bouquet of pink roses, one of Cady’s favorite flowers.

Ms. Norbury looks rather startled when she comes barreling into the room in a frenzy, but shoots her a wink as she stuffs everything into the closet and dashes back out the door to meet Cady like normal.

She’s just barely gotten her breath back under control when Cady comes bouncing through the doors, auburn curls in a ponytail today. As always, she looks for Janis by her locker, smiling as she spies her and comes up for a hug.

“Hi, Jayjay,” She says, wrapping Janis up tightly.

“Hi Peanut,” Janis says back, kissing her forehead. “Did you take your medicines today?”

“Mmhmm! Did you take yours?” Cady answers. Cady almost always remembers, Janis almost always forgets.

“No,” Janis answers, looking around as she pulls the bottle from her backpack as if she’s committing a felony. She’s not, but they’re technically not allowed to carry their own medications. “Did you have breakfast?”

“No,” Cady mumbles. She struggles sometimes to recognize physical sensations, occasionally forgoing a meal or forgetting to stay hydrated, especially if she’s sucked into an activity or a routine.

“Eat one of your Kälteens, then,” Janis says once her pills are down and the bottle hidden away in her bag again. Cady does, offering one to her too. “Thanks, babe.”

“Are you okay, mpenzi? You look nervous,” Cady says worriedly. Shit.

“Yeah I’m fine, everything’s fine! All good,” Janis says rapidly, shoving a large bite of her bar into her mouth and grinning at her like a chipmunk.

“Okay...” Cady says, clearly not believing her even slightly but also recognizing it’s not something Janis wants to talk about.

The warning bell rings then, Cady pouting as she hugs Janis goodbye. “Bye, Butterfly. Have a good day,” Janis says, pecking her lips gently.

“Bye, Bluejay. I love you,” Cady says, blowing her another kiss as she walks away.

“I love you too!” Janis calls after her. And that makes this afternoon much easier, she thinks to herself.

Janis is almost relieved when school finally ends, the nerves having been building inside her as the day went on. Luckily Janis has study hall in the science wing directly above the math wing, allowing her to rush down and get to Ms. Norbury’s room before anyone else. Cady has English on the other side of the building, so she’s commonly the last one to arrive at practice.

She opens the cupboard where she’ll be spending the next hour or so, luckily spotting an outlet so she can charge her phone to keep herself busy. Ms. Norbury agreed to film for her, so she has that covered. She makes sure no light shines out and sits on the ground, peeking under the doorframe as Cady enters, calling a hello to everyone else.

They all mill around and chat for a while before Ms. Norbury enters again with their practice problems for the day. Sometimes they practice competition style and other days they just make sure their problem solving skills are still up to snuff. Today is the latter. Cady greets Ms. Norbury as well, asking about her day and complimenting her blouse.

The boys all sit down first, having been informed of the plan, leaving Cady the seat with the best view of the cabinet Janis is in so she’ll be able to see the reveal right away.

Janis watches her work for a while, having to hold on a chuckle as Cady’s brows furrow in concentration and she taps away furiously on her calculator. She’s so cute. She finishes first, taking the time to double check her work before going to Ms. Norbury for the answer key.

“You finished, Cady?” Ms. Norbury asks, taking her worksheet to check over it.

“Yeah, I’m not sure about number eight though,” Cady says, rubbing her sleeve against her lips nervously.

“You got it correct, Cady. We’ve talked about this. Confidence,” their teacher chides gently. “I have some bonus things for you to work on now, we need to work on graphing practice more. Here you go.”

Janis perks up at that, standing quietly and grabbing hold of her balloons and flowers. There’s just a big enough gap between the door and its frame that she can still peek and see what Cady’s up to.

Cady taps away on her calculator again, plotting all the points down with her pencil carefully. Her brow gets progressively lower with her confusion as she goes, starting to realize something might be up here.

Her head snaps up when she finishes connecting all the points and sees what it spells, Janis taking that as her cue to step out of the closet. That’s a hell of a metaphor, she thinks, bracing herself for Cady’s reaction.

Cady gives an excited gasp when she sees her, scrambling out of her chair and rushing to leap into her arms. Janis drops the balloons and flowers to catch her, glad she had the foresight to go for a balloon weight. “Cady Heron, will you go to prom with me?”

“Of course I will, goofy,” Cady says, sounding a little choked up. “This was perfect.”

“Good,” Janis says, setting her down gently and pressing their lips together. She forgets they’re not alone until the other Mathletes start whistling and cheering, and Ms. Norbury gives an audible coo. They both break apart, blushing violently. “I love you.”

“I love you too. How long were you in there?” Cady asks, pointing to the cupboard as she bends over to pick up the abandoned roses.

“I dunno. About ten minutes before you got here, I think. I wasn’t paying attention to the time.”

“You hid in a closet for an hour just to ask me to prom?” Cady asks, hugging her tightly again.

“Apparently I did, yes.”

“You’re such a dork, I love you. I’m so excited! We get to match this year,” Cady squeals, bouncing up and down.

“Treat that one right, Africa! She’s committed,” Kevin hollers from behind them.

“Oh, I absolutely will,” Cady purrs, leaning in for another sweet kiss.

————-

Damian insists on taking them both shopping, individually of course, so as not to ruin the reveal. Cady gets to go first, since she didn’t get to pick an outfit for Spring Fling last year. Cady would decide the color scheme, and Damian would pass that information to Janis when it was her turn.

“This is fun!” Cady cheers, lugging him around the mall happily.

“We haven’t even gotten to the store yet, Cads,” Damian says, huffing slightly. For how small she is, Cady moves very quickly. He can’t tell if it’s the autism, the bisexuality, or some leftover instinct from Kenya, but he’s exhausted.

“I know, but I like hanging out with you! You’re fun,” Cady says as she swings their arms back and forth happily.

“Aww. You’re fun too, Cads.” Damian responds, touched. “So, do you have any ideas of what kind of dress you want? Wait, do you even want a dress?”

“I want a dress, yes,” Cady giggles. “I think a suit could be fun, but I didn’t get to wear a dress last year. I think I want a long one? But I don’t like when they have long sleeves, they’re usually lace and it’s too itchy.” She looks at him questioningly, as if asking his approval for her opinions.

“Okay, we can work with that,” Damian says as they enter.

“Whoa,” Cady blurts, immediately slightly overwhelmed by all the colors and big poofy skirts.

“Yeah, it’s a lot,” Damian chuckles. “Do you wanna split up and look or stick together?”

“Stick together,” Cady says hastily, pressing closer. “I trust your fashion sense more than my own anyway.”

Damian thinks that’s probably a fair assessment. “Okay, I think your sizes are over here.” He starts flicking through a rack, and she roots through the one next to it. They have to be a bit more particular due to Cady’s sensitivity to certain fabrics, but they get several good options.

“Oh, this is great,” Cady says as Damian hands her a gown. “My cousin had some Broadway star take her shopping for her prom last year and it didn’t go very well. Turns out a future Broadway star is much better.”

“Wait, your cousin had a Broadway actor take her prom shopping? How did she swing that?” Damian asks.

“Oh, her school turned their prom into some big civil rights thing, they wouldn’t let her go since she’s a lesbian and wanted to take her girlfriend. They came down from New York to bring attention to it and stuff, I think. Her name is Emma.” Cady says, grabbing another dress from the rack.

“Emma? Wait, does she live in Indiana?” Damian asks, excitement building.

“Yeah, why?”

“Emma Nolan is your cousin?! Janis and I each watched her video, like, fifty times. We donated to her campaign thing for the inclusive prom,” Damian says.

“Oh, really? That’s so sweet, I’ll tell her. She’d love to meet you guys. I’ve told her a lot about you,” Cady says, now weighed down by a mountain of heavy dresses.

“Oh my god, yes please, she’s such an icon. Anyway, give me these, I can’t even see your face anymore. Let’s go pick your dress!” And with that, the pile is transferred to Damian and they head towards the changing rooms.

The first dress she tries is an amethyst color, and mermaid style. She likes how it looks in the mirror, but it’s so tight around her legs that she almost falls flat on her face when she goes to show it off. Damian catches her and immediately turns her around to go try something else.

The second one is an emerald green, with a shorter skirt and long (but thankfully not itchy) sleeves. She’s more into the length than she thought she would be, and the color suits her. Damian takes a photo so they can compare it to her other options.

The third dress is a beautiful yellow color, and has a sweetheart neckline and thin straps. It reminds her of her costume from Beauty and the Beast. She absolutely loves it, but it turns out to be way too large and her whole chest is pretty much exposed. Oh well.

Her fourth option is a periwinkle two-piece contraption with a very complicated top piece and a long poofy skirt. She likes the color and the way it fits, but the neckline makes her feel like she’s choking and the material of the skirt is very itchy. Damian claps when he sees her in it, though, so she decides to keep it as an option.

The fifth time turns out to be the charm. It’s a royal blue gown, the bodice tight and embroidered with a large flower pattern, and a skirt that flares out at her waist. The short sleeves hang just off her shoulders, and it makes her feel like a princess. This might be the one.

Damian’s eyes go wide as he spies her coming from behind the curtain, gasping at the beauty of it. “This one this one this one,” he repeats excitedly, clapping his hands in between. “What do you think?”

“I really like it,” Cady says, turning to look at herself in another mirror. “The material is really nice. And the color is so pretty.”

“It makes your eyes pop. And it goes so well with your hair,” Damian says as he comes up behind her, laughing as she starts moving her hips to see how the skirt swishes.

“The swish is good,” Cady giggles. “Do you think Janis will like it?”

“She would love anything you feel good in, you know that,” Damian says. “But yes, I think we’ll be lucky if she doesn’t pass out when she sees you. You look gorgeous, Little Slice.”

“Thank you. Oh, wait, can you take a picture to show my mom? She wanted to come with us but she got stuck with a work thing,” Cady asks. “I think she said someone brought in a sick elephant and they had to decide what to do with it.”

“An eleph- okay, sure. Smile,” He responds, taking her phone and snapping a few photos. “There you go. Wanna go get some boba?”

“Ooh, yes!” Cady squeals.

————-

The week after is Janis’ turn, Damian taking her shopping along with both of their mothers and Juliana. It’s much easier shopping for suits. There’s less variety, so they don’t have to decide from as many options.

Damian goes first, he and his date Elijah having decided on an emerald color scheme for their outfits. He tries on two options, a slate grey suit with a green button up underneath, and a fully green suit with a black button up.

He looks great in both, but Julie in her typical brutally honest fashion says he looks rather like a tree in the full green one. Janis’ mom whacks her on the back of the head and tells her to be polite, but Damian just laughs and agrees with her, going with the grey ensemble.

Janis’ turn. Damian tells her that Cady’s dress is a royal blue, and that’s all the detail she gets. She grins, trying to imagine what her girlfriend will look like on the night, wondering what style of dress she chose. Janis does love Cady in blue.

Their group wanders aimlessly for a minute until Janis finds a black pantsuit in her size, Damian grabbing a soft blue crew neck t-shirt as an option to go under it, as well as a white button down and cobalt skinny tie as an alternate.

She heads to the changing room, tugging the curtain closed and staring at her pieces for a second. She decides to try the more traditional button down and tie first, fumbling with it for a second before giving up and heading out, asking her mom to tie it for her.

Janis looks in the mirror once her mom loops it around her neck correctly, grinning at what she sees. She looks hot. The thin legs of the pants make her look even taller than she already is. They’re a little long, so she’ll have to get it tailored a bit, but the fit other than that is perfect. The dark blazer accentuates her shoulders, and the length of the sleeves makes her feel like a boss bitch.

She turns around to see what her little crew thinks, finding Julie already in Damian’s lap and wide grins on everyone’s faces.

“You look beautiful, hon. Very sophisticated,” Ms. Hubbard says, her own mom sneakily wiping a tear away and nodding in agreement.

“Go see what you look like with the t-shirt instead,” her sister demands. She does, heading back to change before pulling the blazer back on. She looks in the mirror again. The t-shirt is a little less formal, but she still looks very dapper.

“Which do you like better, baby girl?” Her mom asks. She has to think for a moment. The shirt allows her to match more with Cady, and is more comfortable. But if she wore a tie, Cady could use it to pull her into kisses, which she’s always wanted to do.

She decides they’ll be doing plenty of kissing anyway, and goes with what she feels more comfortable in. “I like this. I think once I have my accessories and makeup on and stuff it’ll still be fancy enough.”

“I think so too,” Damian says, removing her sister from his lap to stand. He heads to change back into his so their moms can take pictures of them together.

Janis’ phone pings right as she’s about to hand it over for a photo. She pulls it back to check, grinning a little when she sees a message from Cady.

Caddy Cakes: Hi lovey!!!! 🥰📷 Did you pick an outfit yet??

Jellybean: hi baby

Jellybean: i just picked my suit, no you can’t see it yet

Caddy Cakes: D:

Caddy Cakes: Just kidding, I know. I have a request

Jellybean: 🤨

Caddy Cakes: Can I see you in heels????? Pleeeeeeaase?? Just for prom night and then I’ll never make you wear them again 🥺🥺

Caddy Cakes: Sent a picture: Pwease?

Jellybean: you gotta stop doing the puppy eyes

Jellybean: fine. i’ll talk to damian

Caddy Cakes: Oh yay!!! Ok I’ll let you go now. I love you!!!!! Mwah!

Jellybean: i love you too baby 📷📷

She clicks her phone off and stares at it for a second, realizing what she’s just gotten herself into.

“What happened?” Damian asks, concerned something is seriously wrong.

“Caddy wants me to wear heels,” Janis whines as she buries her face in his blazer.

“You are so fucking whipped,” Damian teases. “We’ll find something.”

Their moms finally finish taking photos and they head to the shoe store, Janis looking longingly at the flat men’s dress shoes Damian chooses from. Once his are picked, they head over to the high heels. Janis stares incredulously at the height of some of them, very glad she escaped the Plastics before the heels got this high.

Juliana suddenly comes running at her holding a box, nearly tripping over her own feet and falling on her face until Janis reaches out to steady her. Julie shoves the box at her, Janis taking it curiously and looking to see what her sister has found.

She pulls back the tissue paper to find a pair of stiletto heels (which concerns her, thin heels are not a good way to introduce yourself to them), about four or five inches high and the same royal blue as their color scheme.

“These are huge, Jules,” Janis says incredulously. “Pretty, but... damn.”

“They’re the only ones that match,” Juliana pants, still out of breath from dashing around the store. “I checked everywhere.”

Janis looks at them again. Maybe if she practiced wearing them she could do it. “I’ll try them. You gotta help me, though, or I’m gonna fall on my ass.”

Juliana giggles at that but nods as Janis heads over to a bench to sit, tugging off her comfortable boots. She immediately regrets agreeing to this, but does kind of understand the appeal once she stands up for the first time.

With the height of the heel she’s roughly six and a half feet tall and feeling like she can grind the patriarchy to a pulp under her foot. Of course, it all flies out the window when she tries to take a step, since her entire gait has to shift.

Julie grabs her hands to steady her, guiding her slowly down the aisle like she’s teaching a baby how to walk. Unfortunately, Damian and their mothers come back at this point, all of them immediately bursting out laughing at the sight.

“Oh, baby girl, you’ll have to practice,” her mom giggles.

“Those shoes are perfect, though,” Damian says excitedly.

“I picked ‘em!” Juliana says proudly.

Damian looks impressed. “Nice, squirt. You have a knack for that.” Juliana beams proudly as Janis messes up her hair, immediately losing her balance.

“Who fucking invented these,” she grumbles crankily under her breath.

“Language, Janny,” her mom chides warningly, despite knowing she swears all the time.

Janis looks sheepish, turning away. “Sorry Mama.”

“Alright, let’s go get you kids fed and head home,” Ms. Hubbard says.

“God, yes please,” Janis breathes, yanking the shoes off her feet and stuffing them

back in the box.

————-

The day before the dance, Cady insists on all three art freaks (plus Juliana, who had her own middle school dance on the same night) going to the spa together.

It’s a lovely place, very clean and bright. Janis decides to get her nails all painted the same royal blue shade to match their outfits, Cady gets a glittery silver, and Juliana gets a purple to match the dress she had picked. Damian felt left out and decides to get his painted green.

Since they’re not getting any kind of fancy processes done, they’re all led back to sit next to one another in massage chairs to wait for their nail technicians. The hostess offers them a drink of their choice, Damian and Julie choose a cola, Cady gets water and Janis asks for a Sprite.

While they wait for their drinks, their nail techs come to get to work on them. It turns out that part of the package is hot stone massages on their legs, and warm lotion massages on their arms while they get their nails painted. Janis nearly falls asleep in her chair, lulled by the soothing warmth of the lotion and the repetitive motion of the chair.

She’s startled back awake by the lady returning with their drinks, learning that they had run out of Sprite and offered a Mountain Dew instead. She says it’s fine and takes it, finding the contrast of the drink and the sensations she’s experiencing very funny.

Once their nails are all painted, they’re led over to a drying station in the middle of the room, sitting on benches and sticking their hands and feet under fans to blow their nails dry. Cady leans her head on Janis’ shoulder while they wait, Janis kissing her hair and pressing her cheek against the top of her head.

“I can’t wait to see you tomorrow,” Cady whispers. “I’m so excited.”

“I can’t wait either, Peanut. You’re going to look so beautiful,” Janis responds softly, pulling her into a sweet kiss once her nails are finished and safe to use again.

Cady looks sad to see Janis go once they have to pay and leave, but cheers up a bit when she’s reminded that they get to spend the whole night together tomorrow.

————

On the day, Janis’ mom helps her get ready. The dance doesn’t start until nine, but she and Cady are going out to dinner with Damian and Elijah first, so she has to be ready early.

She’s lucky that her mom appreciates her style. She applies some natural looking makeup around her eyes, which is a bit different than Janis normally does, but she does have to admit it’s a nice look. She’s surprised when her mom gets to the lips, pulling out a blue lipstick, so dark it’s almost black. It’s perfect.

Janis thinks she looks sort of like a model when she looks in the mirror as her mom starts working on her hair.

“I’ve missed doing this for you,” her mom says as she starts brushing out her hair.

“You can anytime, Mama. I hate doing it,” Janis huffs.

“You always did, baby girl, you always did,” her mother replies. Once she finishes brushing it, she applies a few products to get her natural wave back into it, and then starts slicking it to the side with some gel. Once it’s finished, all her hair is resting over her shoulder. It’s a very elegant look. “There.”

“Mama, are you crying?” Janis asks, turning around to hug her.

“No,” her mom sniffs. “Yes. You’ve just... grown into such a beautiful young lady. Feels like the years have gotten away from me. Won’t be too much longer before I’m doing this on your wedding day.”

Janis laughs at that. “You’ve got a while, I’m nowhere near ready to be married yet. I love you.”

Her mom squeezes her, brushing a hand against her cheek as she lets her go. “I love you too, baby girl. Go put your suit on, I’ve got to help your sister now.”

Janis heads to her room, tugging on her now perfectly tailored suit pants, then her royal blue t-shirt, her blazer, and necklaces. She decides to forgo the shoes for as long as she can, leaving them resting on her bed. She slides her fanciest rings on as a finishing touch and heads to look at herself in the mirror.

It’s strange. She’s wearing a suit, but she looks more feminine than she has in a long time. Even in comparison to her suit from last year’s Spring Fling where she wore a skirt, it’s a more feminine look. She decides she’s into it. She looks good.

She heads downstairs right as Damian and his date pull up outside. Juliana goes rushing up to hug him, looking beautiful in her lavender dress. Janis is glad her sister and best friend get along so well.

“Looking good, guys,” she says as her sister finally releases him. Elijah wound up choosing the option Damian didn’t, looking quite handsome in his green ensemble. He’s shorter than Damian, so he looks less like a tree.

“So do you! You look so good, Jan,” Damian says, pulling her into a gentle hug so he doesn’t mess anything up.

“Thanks,” Janis says shyly, spinning around to show off with her shoes still in her hand. “When’s Caddy coming? I wanna see her.”

“She texted me and said she’s gonna be a couple minutes late, she shouldn’t be too much longer,” Damian responds, checking the time on his phone. “Oh, speak of the devil.”

Cady’s parents pull up then, Cady’s door opening before the car even comes to a complete stop. Janis gasps when she sees her girlfriend in her dress for the first time.

Before she even has time to fully process it, her jaw hanging open, her girlfriend is in her arms, hugging her tightly. “Janis, oh my god! You look incredible!”

“So do you,” Janis says, pulling back for a second to see her. “You look like a princess.”

Cady really does, her long auburn hair has been braided into a thick crown around her head, the remaining strands tied in a bun on top of her head and two little pieces hanging out to frame her face. Her makeup is heavy around her eyes, silver shadow on her lids and eyelashes dark. She looks very ethereal. Her lipstick is more natural, and Janis likes that she can still see her freckles through her face makeup.

“You look so hot! Very, um, sexy businesswoman going to a fancy thing,” Cady says, reaching out to feel her blazer. Janis realizes when she doesn’t have to reach as far that their height balance is off, thrown by Cady’s shoes.

“Thanks,” Janis laughs. “I think.”

“Put your shoes on, I wanna see,” Cady demands, pointing to the heels Janis is still holding in her hand.

“Fine,” Janis pouts as she rests them

on the ground and steps into them carefully. Cady reaches out to steady her at first before letting go once she’s more stable. Janis has been wearing them around the house all month to get used to them.

“Jesus, you’re tall,” Cady giggles, looking up at her. “Oh, wait, I have your-um. Thingy.”

“Boutonnière, baby. Thank you,” Janis laughs as Cady tenderly pins it on. “Here’s your corsage.”

“Why thank you,” Cady says as Janis slides it on her wrist and kisses her knuckles. “Now come on, we gotta take pictures. I want to kiss you but I can’t mess up your makeup until those are done.”

“Okay, Peanut, let’s go,” Janis chuckles, taking her hand and stumbling slightly as she heads over to Damian, Elijah, and their parents.

They take every cliché prom photo in the book, all awkward poses and cheesy smiles. Janis nearly breaks her ankle trying to do their jump shot in those shoes, but Cady somehow does and lands it perfectly, reaching out to steady Janis with a chuckle.

They take one more jokey shot of each other with the wrong dates, Cady with Damian and Janis with Elijah looking at each other confusedly before switching back to who they’re meant to be with.

“Alright, you crazy kids, get out of here,” Damian’s mom demands, shoving them towards their Uber that had pulled up. None of them were into the idea of renting a limo, but none of them wanted to drive either.

“Be safe!” Janis’ mom adds.

“Make good choices!” Cady’s mom pipes up. Her dad and Cady both roll their eyes lovingly.

————-

As they pull up to the restaurant, everyone clambers out quickly. Damian and Elijah head in first, Janis and Cady following hand in hand a few paces behind them. Just before they reach the doors, Cady tugs on Janis’ hand, hauling her backwards.

“Wha- oh, okay,” Janis stutters, gasping as Cady looks around quickly before fisting a hand in her t-shirt and pulling her down for a hot mess of a kiss. Turns out the shirt works just fine. Janis kisses her back just as hard, wrapping her arms around Cady’s waist to pull her closer.

When they finally break apart, their lipsticks have fully blended together. “Glad we made it to the dance before we ruined our makeup,” Cady chuckles breathlessly, pulling two makeup wipes out of her clutch to get rid of the evidence. Damian looks at them knowingly when they walk in several minutes late suddenly missing lipstick, but neither of them care.

It’s a fancy restaurant, and their table is next to a water feature. Janis immediately sticks her hand in it, causing water to splash everywhere for a second until she pulls it out.

“Janis, what? Why did you do that?” Cady asks in exasperation as she grabs a napkin from their table to dry Janis’ hand.

Janis looks down sheepishly. “I wanted to see if it was real.”

“Well now you know,” Cady says, dabbing at the splash marks on her suit and wondering how a fountain could be fake. “And I’m sitting next to that. You get the outside.”

“Sorry, Caddy.”

“Don’t be sorry, my love. I just worry about your regard for social norms and sense of self preservation sometimes.” Cady comforts, kissing her cheek gently to cheer her up.

“Oh, speaking of which, I got a great idea for senior pranks,” Janis says excitedly. Damian and Elijah both lean in across the table, as if they’re plotting something for the mafia. “I’m gonna get a cow and stick it on the second floor, and then put chickens in the elevator. Cows don’t go down stairs, so they’ll try to put it in the elevator and find the chickens.”

“Where are you going to get any of these things?” Elijah asks. It’s a fair question.

“My mom knows a guy, one of her old classmates is a farmer and he said I could borrow some of his livestock,” Janis explains.

“I- wh-“ Cady stutters, trying to find a response to this. “If you get expelled before you can graduate I’m not gonna help you.” Her own plan was just to stick a bunch of plastic forks in the football field. Gretchen and Karen had already agreed to help, too.

“I won’t get caught. It’ll be fine,” Janis says, sounding as if she already knows it won’t.

“That’s actually kind of genius, Jan,” Damian says. “I’m gonna put a speaker in the gym playing the chorus to It’s a Small World on repeat and then put a bunch of cups full of water in the way of it.”

“Nice!” Janis cheers, high-fiving him.

“You guys,” Cady pleads, looking as if she’s witnessing a murder plot. “You’re gonna get in trouble.”

“That’s the fun of it, Peanut! The risk,” Janis says boldly. “Plus, Regina knows how to hack the security cameras so there won’t be any proof. Unless someone rats me out.”

Cady thinks she might, just to save herself the headache. She feels as if she’s gotten a very telling taste of her future. “Jesus Christ.”

Cady and Elijah make exhausted eye contact periodically throughout their meal, exasperated with their respective partners. Once they finally finish eating, Cady has to haul Janis away from the fountain by the tail of her blazer to stop her from reaching into it again.

“Come on, Jayjay. No fountain or I’m revoking your little spoon rights for a week.”

“Fine.”

————-

A few minutes after nine, their group strolls into the school. Janis and Cady head to the bathroom to reapply their respective lipsticks before going into the main dance.

Janis stops Cady before she can put hers back on, pressing her against the wall gently and kissing her soundly again. Cady grips the fabric of her blazer at her waist, having to restrain herself from messing up Janis’ hair.

Janis checks under the doors to make sure they’re alone before coming back, pulling Cady flush against her and sucking on her lower lip. Cady groans softly, making Janis want to fast forward through the dance and take her home.

Cady gives her one last good smooch before pulling back, both of them panting slightly. “We should go in,” She breathes, ghosting the words over Janis’ lips. “We have time for this later, we only get one senior prom.”

“Fine,” Janis pouts, kissing her gently one more time before heading to a mirror to finally put her lipstick back on.

They head hand in hand into the gym, looking around at how it’s been transformed. The theme this year is a Night Under the Stars, so they’re surrounded by dark balloons, gold decorations, and glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling. Janis is reminded of Cady’s speech from last year’s dance. Maybe that served as the inspiration.

“Whoa,” Cady says excitedly. The school puts much more funding into prom than Spring Fling, since it’s supposed to be a kind of final memory for the seniors. It actually looks quite nice. “I’m gonna go say hi to Regina and Gretchen and Karen really quick, I’ll be right back.”

“Okay, Butterfly. I want punch, I’ll be over there.” Janis kisses her quickly and sends her on her way.

She people-watches as she sips slowly from her cup, wanting to get as much punch as she can before someone inevitably spikes it. Damian and Elijah have already been lost to the mob of dancers, but she can spy them just across the way. Regina looks strangely nervous in her baby pink dress. She’s been wary of large crowds since the bus incident. Gretchen and Karen look adorable as ever together, in royal purple dresses that are slightly different styles.

Janis is working on her third cup of punch when the DJ announces a request for Born This Way by Lady Gaga. She and Damian lock eyes from across the room, nodding slightly. Damian sometimes choreographs dances to his favorite songs, and almost always drags Janis into learning them. They both have backgrounds in dance, and can do them quite well. Janis figures they might as well go out with a bang.

They meet in the middle of the floor and start their routine. Damian is a talented choreographer, having spent hours studying for his various shows. The routine is actually very well put together.

People gradually start realizing what’s happening and stop dancing themselves, surrounding them to watch and cheer them on. It’s a nice feeling, if a bit strange for them. She spots Cady with the former Plastics watching her excitedly, and shoots her a cheeky wink before continuing her moves.

When the song finally ends, they pause in their ending pose for a split second before standing and blushing scarlet. Everyone claps for a short while, looking rather stunned as they head back to their friends. “Well damn,” the DJ says into his microphone. “Did not expect that. Uh, here’s the Macarena.”

Cady wraps Janis in a tight hug once she finally reaches her, yelling, “Janis, what the hell?! I had no idea you could dance like that, that was incredible!”

“Thanks,” Janis pants. “I’ll teach you sometime.”

“I’m such a klutz, good look with that,” Cady giggles. “You need more to drink, you must be exhausted.”

She leads Janis over to the table, pouring them both one more glass of punch. “We should go see who the prom court is, too.”

Prom court worked a bit differently than Spring Fling, in that it was a secret until the night of the dance. Student council made nominations, which allowed some of the less popular students to make the ballot, and then whoever attended the event got to vote.

“There’s two winners of each this year? That’s different,” Janis mumbles on seeing the sign at the voting table.

“Regina said it’s because there’s a lot more LGBT+ couples that are out and coming to events together now, and should both be able to win. They’re doing it from now on,” Cady says. “And look at who’s on the ballot.”

Janis does, surprised to see her own name listed, along with Cady’s and the three former Plastics. “I’m an option?”

“You are,” Cady chuckles. “And Damian is up for Prom King, too.” Sure enough, Damian and Elijah are both listed along with all the Mathletes.

Janis is stunned. It doesn’t make up for the years of torment they faced at the hands of these kids, and she doesn’t think for a second that she’s going to win, but it’s a nice gesture at least. A start.

They’re each allowed to vote for two people for each category. Janis votes Cady and Karen for queen and Damian and Elijah for king. Cady votes Janis and Gretchen as queen and also votes Damian and Elijah as king.

Once they slip their papers into the boxes, the DJ announces a slow song. “May I have this dance?” Janis asks in a suave voice, reaching out a hand for her girlfriend.

“You may,” Cady giggles, taking her hand and following her onto the dance floor. Janis kisses Cady’s knuckles gently before letting go to hold her by the waist, Cady grinning up at her as she holds onto Janis’ neck.

“I love you,” Janis murmurs as they start swaying softly to the rhythm of the song. Cady pushes up briefly to brush their lips together.

“I love you too,” she whispers when she pulls away again. “I’m so glad we got this night together.”

“I am too. We’ve come so far in a year, it’s crazy,” Janis responds.

“Crazy indeed,” Cady chuckles. “I’m so lucky.”

“I’m the lucky one, baby,” Janis says, surprising Cady by dipping her. She squeals and clings tighter to her neck, but giggles when Janis kisses her quickly and pulls her back up.

“You’re so smooth,” Cady teases as the song ends.

“Thanks,” Janis responds as she kisses her again. “God, my feet are killing me.”

“Take your shoes off then, Jellybean. The ticket lady will hold them for you,” Cady says. “Mine kind of hurt too, we can just walk around barefoot.”

They both sit on the bleachers to take their heels off, breathing a sigh of relief once they’re back to their normal height. Now that they’re free, they meet back up with Damian and Elijah, letting loose and dancing crazily to the loud music, jumping up and down as they laugh. It’s freeing, dancing like nobody’s watching in a room packed with people.

After several songs, the DJ announces that it’s time to reveal the winners of prom king and queen. All the nominees head up on stage next to him, Janis and Cady holding hands as they make their way up.

They announce the kings first. “Your nominees for prom king are: Damian Hubbard, Elijah French, Kevin Gnapoor, Marwan Jitla, and Tyler Kimble!” The DJ calls dramatically. “And your kings for tonight are... Damian and Elijah!”

Janis and Cady both cheer happily as their friends receive their crowns, clapping for them excitedly.

“Moving to your nominees for prom queen! Caddy Heron, Janis Sarkisian, Regina George, Gretchen Wieners, and Karen Smith!” Cady pouts a little at the mispronunciation of her name. “And your prom queens tonight are... Caddy and Janis!”

Janis blinks rapidly, stunned. They’re handed the tiaras to put on each other, Cady having to pop up on her tippy toes to reach that high. Janis places the crown tenderly on Cady’s head, sliding it in place around her updo. Cady bravely decides to pull her down into a brief, sweet kiss. A few people clap for them then, which is nice.

They’re led off stage after that, Janis still in shock. How the hell did I win? These people all hated me. If Cady finds out later that Regina had threatened everyone into voting for them, she’d take that secret to her grave.

They decide to stick around for one more slow song, this time with Cady leading. Janis leans down and presses their foreheads together, looking into Cady’s clear blue eyes happily.

Cady tries to dip her, too, nearly dropping her on the ground until Janis barely manages to pull herself back up at the last second. Cady looks very sheepish, until Janis kisses her cheek gently to make her smile.

“Can we go home?” Cady asks quietly once the song is finished, pressing close to Janis. “I feel buzzy.”

‘Buzzy’ is how Cady had taken to describing the feeling of being overstimulated. She surprisingly isn’t feeling too overloaded, given the amount of noise and the lights, but knows it will get to be too much for her soon.

“Of course, baby. Go get our stuff, I’ll go tell Damian,” Janis answers, kissing her sweetly and pushing her towards the door.

She heads to fetch Damian, who is deep in conversation with Elijah. She doesn’t want to interrupt, but he spies her lurking and waves her over. “Caddy and I are going home, she’s tired.”

“Okay, I’ll come say bye,” Damian says, kissing Elijah on the cheek and standing to follow her. Janis leads him over to where Cady is waiting with her bag and both pairs of their shoes.

“Bye, little slice,” Damian says, wrapping her in a hug. “See you later.”

“Bye, Dame,” Cady responds, leaning into his embrace as best she can. Damian heads back to his date then, Janis leading Cady by the arm out the doors gently. She taps into her phone to order their Uber home before sitting down on a bench and pulling Cady into her lap.

“Did you have fun, Peanut?” She asks, kissing Cady’s forehead as she squeezes her tightly to help with the sensory overload. Cady nods against her shoulder, too overwhelmed to speak unless she absolutely has to. “Good.”

It’s a cold night for springtime, and Janis notices Cady start shivering slightly in her embrace. She pulls away for a second to tug off her blazer, wrapping it gently around her girlfriend and pulling her back in. Cady kisses her jaw a few times in thanks.

————

Once they get back to Janis’ house, Cady leads Janis quickly up towards her bedroom, desperate to get out of her now heavy and uncomfortable gown. Janis hands her some makeup wipes as she pulls out Cady’s emergency sleepover pjs from her dresser, as well as some shorts and a sweatshirt for herself.

Cady takes the pjs once all her itchy makeup has been removed, but tugs gently on the hem of Janis’ sweatshirt, silently asking for one too. Janis goes to fetch another one, kissing her cheek as Cady heads to get changed.

Cady is scratching at her head when she returns, trying to relieve some of the ache caused by her hairstyle. “Help?” She asks quietly, barely above a whisper. Talking takes energy she doesn’t have to spare at the moment.

Janis nods, gesturing for her to sit between her legs as she removes the crown, starting to unravel the mess of pins and ties holding up her hair. Cady breathes a sigh of relief once her long curls are flowing down her back again, and her eyes flutter shut as Janis starts stroking a brush through them gently to remove any excess product.

Once she’s finished, Cady ties her hair up loosely so it’s not in her face before turning to face Janis. “Now you.”

Janis switches spots with her, taking a wipe to take off her own makeup as Cady starts gently brushing the gel and hairspray out. They’d still have to shower tomorrow, but that can wait. They’re both exhausted.

Once Janis’ hair is sufficiently soft, Cady lies down and pulls Janis to lie on top of her. Janis was worried about squishing her the first few times, since Cady is so much smaller, but Cady had explained that the pressure didn’t hurt and actually was very helpful when she was upset.

Janis tugs the duvet over them gently, kissing Cady goodnight before tucking her face into her shoulder and closing her eyes.

“I love you.” Cady mutters quietly, rubbing Janis’ back.

“I love you too, baby. Sweet dreams.” Janis says back, popping an eye open to look at the two tiaras resting on her nightstand. She grins happily before shutting her eyes once more and drifting off to dreamland.

Tonight belonged to us.

hope you enjoyed! if you want to check it out, I put some images of their outfits and such in this chapter of my work on wattled (titled cadnis oneshots so I can get some f*cking sleep). I'm sorry I didn't put them here, but I frankly do not have the energy.

requests are still open! please leave them either here, on my wattpad, or on my ao3. I've been getting a fair few recently (thank you all!) so it may take a few weeks for yours to be published, but I am doing my damndest to crank these out and will get to everyone's eventually.

thanks for reading!

lots of love,

ezzy

#cadnis #paint by numbers #space safari #cady x janis #cady heron x janis sarkisian #cady heron #janis sarkisian #damian hubbard #regina george #gretchen wieners #karen smith #mean girls #mean girls musical #mean girls broadway

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starkerisendgame · 5 years

Note

this is my cheesy cliché-romantic prompt, please write it if you like this kind of stories, lol: Peter has had a crush on Tony since forever. He has confessed his love to Tony three times, and Peter has been rejected each time. The first one was when he was 10, the second one at 15, and the last one at 20. After so long, Peter decides to give up. He starts dating other people, trying to find love, then one day Tony reappears again into his life.

I’m so sorry this took so long! But I really hope it was worth the wait and that you enjoy it. This is in two parts because it ended up being way longer than I initially planned it. No smut in part one, but 90% of what Anon asked for happens in this chapter.

Prompts are always open

[P. 2 | P. 3]

Peter meets the love of his life aged ten, lounging in the grass of a local park and devouring the Chemistry book that Aunt May got him for Christmas. A pair of glossy combat boots stop right besides his pink lemonade, a figure casting a dark shadow over his book.

Peter looked up slowly, scowling at the interruption. How was he supposed to study hard and become a world famous scientist if people kept interrupting him? The boots give way to skinny black jeans that clung to legs longer than Peter could ever hope for his to grow. The legs faded into a black t-shirt sporting a cat playing the drums, and then to the prettiest face Peter had ever seen.

“Page fifty-eight is wrong, y’know,” the boy commented casually, hands tucked into his jean pockets. Peter’s scowl deepened, and he stared for a moment longer before furiously flicking through the pages. Page 58 turned out to be on metals and their chemical properties. Peter scanned it, before looking up again.

“It’s a professional science book. It can’t be wrong. And even if it was, how would you know?” he asked, reaching for his lemonade and sipping. The boy actually laughed, soft and amused before crouching down, elbows braced on his thighs. One long finger tapped a single paragraph on the page.

“The book claims Tungsten to be the strongest natural metal, and Chromium to be the hardest. Both of those are wrong. The world’s strongest and hardest metal is one in the same: Vibranium.”

Peter frowned a little, reading the paragraph quickly as the boy spoke. Vibranium? That sounded made up. And he’d never heard of it before.

“You’re just making that up,” he pouted, pushing away the boy’s hand. He chuckled again, low and soft and it made Peter’s tummy feel funny. All flippy, like he was on a rollercoaster.

“Am not,” the boy shot back, teasing and mocking. Peter pouted harder, drawing his book closer. “Vibranium was discovered in the 1800′s, and is pretty much a secret outside of a select few Government organisations and my family; who have a big clump of it sitting in a secure storage facility out in Antarctica,” the boy remarked. It was Peter’s turn to laugh, now.

“You’re a big, fat liar,” he dismissed, then frowned. “Wait. I’m not supposed to be talking to strangers. Go away before Aunt May confiscates my Game Boy again,” he huffed, looking back down at his book. He missed the soft smile the boy gave in response, and missed the scent of aftershave as the boy got up and walked away.

One week later, Peter was back at the park, sprawled out on the grass with several packs of snacks and his chemistry book. He’d brought a notebook this time, jotting down notes and little doodles to help him remember things. There was a science expo next month, and he was determined to be super smart and science to impress the important scientists there.

Something thunked into the grass before him and rolled, all the way through the grass until it bumped into the edge of his chemistry book. Peter eyed it warily. It was a metal ball, about the size of a ping-pong ball. Bright silver and it looked really shiny, like it had been polished. Peter looked up further, and saw the boy from last week strolling towards him.

He walked all the way up and sat down opposite Peter, long legs crossing in the grass. Peter watched him the entire time, hand still paused mid-sentence. The boy was wearing dark grey jeans today, and a white shirt with an AC/DC logo across the chest. His head tipped, and he watched Peter with a soft, curious expression.

“Half a pound of Vibranium. Super-forged and polished into a perfect sphere, just for you,” the boy remarked, pulling a lollipop out of one pocket and peeling off the wrapped. Peter looked down and after a moment he put down his pen, reaching for it. It felt light, for its weight, and the metal was cold, perfectly smooth to the touch.

“This is probably just steel or something,” he pointed out, and the boy shrugged, sucking the lolly with a wet sound.

“You can do whatever you want to that, and it won’t break, scratch or dent. The only thing that can damage Vibranium is more Vibranium,” the boy tossed back, taking the sphere from Peter’s hand and tossing it up and down like a regular ball. “You could take a chainsaw to this thing and all you’d get is sparks.”

He tossed the ball back to Peter and they spent the next two hours going through his chemistry book together. The boy turned out to be called Tony, and he was super smart. He was turning twenty next month. Peter worried a bit about talking to someone that much older, but Tony was sweet and smart and helped him to take notes.

Tony’s phone went off a little while later, and he checked it before pulling a face and looking across at Peter.

“Well, I gotta go. But try to scratch that thing. Let me know if you succeed,” he grinned, ruffling Peter’s hair and standing. He was already walking away by the time Peter realised he had no way of letting Tony know either way and he watched helplessly as Tony slipped into a sleek, black car on the sidewalk.

That night Peter attacked the ball with several kitchen knives. He threw it down the stairs. He tried to chew it. He tried everything he could within the house to damage it, but nothing worked.

Eventually he gave up, sitting on his bed and staring in wonder at the still perfectly smooth ball before he snuck an egg cup from the kitchen and put it in pride of place on the middle of his shelf.

He went back to the park on Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday of the following week, but Tony didn’t show up.

He was already there the following Tuesday however, sprawled on his back on the grass with his eyes closed and his face tilted up towards the sun. Peter approached slowly, two bottles of cola tucked under his arm, chemistry book tucked under the other. He was almost above Tony when the boy smiled, slow and sweet.

“Sorry I haven’t been around much, Pete,” he murmured. His voice was thick, raspy. It was then that Peter noticed the dark purple bruises under his eyes, and the large, blotchy red patch on one side of his jaw. Peter shuffled nervously in the grass, dropping his head.

“Um… If you’re sick, we don’t gotta study today,” he mumbled in response, shrinking when Tony cracked open one eye to study him. After a moment though, he was smiling again, pushing himself up onto his elbows to pat the grass besides him.

“I’m okay. We can still learn about atoms,” Tony comforted softly, and that’s what they did. For over an hour, until Tony looked up, face falling as a tall, kind of fat man in a suit approached then. He looked like he should be dressed for a funeral.

“Mr. Stark, its time we should be going,” the man greeted quietly. Peter’s pen slipped across the page when he twisted in shock, staring accusingly across at Tony with wide eyes. His best friend wasn’t just Tony, but Tony Stark. Son of Howard Stark, one of the world’s leading inventors and scientists.

Tony glanced across at him with a small, half amused and half sad smile, pushing to his feet.

“I’ll be back on Thursday, kiddo,” Tony hummed, dusting off his pants and following after the man, who gave Peter a polite nod in goodbye. As they walked, the man held out a tie and a jacket towards Tony, and it occurred to Peter for the first time that Tony had been wearing a smart shirt for once.

The next morning, as Peter sat at the table eating his cereal, the news turned to Tony Stark, dressed in a suit with a pair of deep red sunshades on. What remained of the Stark family announced that Howard and Maria Stark were dead - Victims of a terrible car crash due to bad weather. They had been buried late yesterday afternoon, a quiet and private affair.

Peter’s heart sank. Tony had must’ve gone straight to the funeral with that man. He fretted about it all day, nervously chewing at his pen and bouncing his leg the entire time. He wanted to go to the park, wanted desperately to see Tony, but Tony had said Thursday.

The day couldn’t come quick enough, and Peter barely breathed as he stuffed his dinner into his mouth, ignoring May’s alarmed looks and almost headbutting her with how quickly he gave her a goodbye kiss on the cheek, jacket half-on as he fled through the door.

Tony was waiting for him again, sat cross-legged in their spot. He was wearing the same shades he had been on the news the other morning and wore a large, soft black hoodie. He looked up when Peter came scurrying across the grass, mouth quirking into a friendly smile.

Peter skid through the greenery, sliding onto his knees and crashing into Tony with almost enough force to knock him over as he wrapped his arms tight around him.

Tony stiffened under his touch, arms hanging hesitantly in the air, but Peter squeezed him a little tighter, tucking his head down and after a moment Tony relaxed, arms coming loosely around Peter’s waist.

They met up every week after that, always in the same spot near the holly bush. They got through Peter’s book pretty quickly and Tony brought more, an endless supply of books on anything Peter could think of.

He also brought Peter stuff, sometimes. A tiny, tiny 1ml science beaker from the lab at Stark Tower. A weird type of berry from Africa, where Tony went for the weekend while Peter was home with the flu.

Two weeks before his eleventh birthday, Peter looked up from his book on stars, squinting across at Tony, who was doodling a dog wearing sunglasses on his notebook.

“I love you.” he announced after a moment, confident. He’d asked Aunt May what it meant to love someone, and if it was okay to tell them. She’s told it was when even the thought of someone made you happy. When you wanted them to be in your life for a long time and when you felt comfortable around them.

Tony paused, and then laughed, sharp and short. “No, kid. You love pancakes and your Aunt and sleeping in on a Saturday. You don’t love me.”

Peter frowned and went to argue but then Tony was quizzing him on what gasses stars were made up of, and it was dropped.

Peter lay awake that night, tossing and turning as he thought about it. He was pretty sure he loved Tony. He always looked forwards to seeing him. Tony made him happy and made him smile all the time. He knew Tony’s favourite colour and how he liked his toast and he always felt like he could tell Tony anything. That was love… Right?

Aged fifteen, Peter buried his face in Gwen’s shoulder and whined, shoulders slumping. His phone lay screen-up on the table, depicting an image of Tony stepping out of a fancy restaurant, arm wrapped tight around a pretty blonde girl. It was his second girlfriend of the year, a nice but kind of snooty girl named Alita.

“You’re jailbait anyway, Pete. Find someone your own age,” Gwen advised, voice cool but not unsympathetic as she turned the page to her book. She was right; Peter had known Tony was too old for him the moment he realised that Tony’s smile made his tummy flip in a funny way. The moment Aunt may blew up when she found out just who Peter was always running off to study in the park with.

(Tony had promptly arranged for them both to have dinner at the Tower, and had immediately wooed Aunt May. She had come around to them being study buddies by the end of the night; how could she not? Tony was sweet, charming, quirky. It hadn’t taken Peter a year to fall in love with him, after all.)

“She’s just… I mean she’s obviously… She isn’t…” Peter couldn’t think of anything to say. Alita was actually pretty nice, if you got past her picky, high standards for living. She had been super friendly when Tony had brought her along on one of their study meets, and had been pretty interested in their current topic - physics.

“Not you,” Gwen finished for him, pushing his head up so she could give him one of her Mom looks. Peter scowled and looked away, stabbing his breaded chicken with a little more force than required. Alita and Tony had been dating for three months now, and each morning the heavy, cold feeling in Peter’s stomach grew. He thought back to being ten, to telling Tony he loved him in the middle of the park, to the way Tony laughed, like it was a big, bad joke.

They didn’t go to the park often, these days. Tony was now the big boss at his parents’ company and spent most of his days learning how to run it and making lots of big changes. They still saw each other each week, but school and a big company didn’t leave a lot of time for laying around in the grass.

“Have de-ageing or ageing machines been invented yet?” he questioned aloud, and shrieked when Gwen slapped him with her book. That was a no, then.

Tony was waiting for him at the school gates, leaning against the bonnet of a fancy car that Peter had forgotten the brand name of. He had rich, glossy blue shades on today and was wearing a loose, matching blue silk shirt. Several other kids were hanging around, phones out and obviously trying to engage.

Peter felt rather powerful striding across the grass and towards Tony. Tony straightened when he approached, uncrossing his legs and opening the car door with a flourish for Peter.

“Your humble ride home, Little Prince,” Tony greeted, voice thick and soft as he mock bowed. Peter snorted, sliding onto the rich, buttery leather and tossing his beg into the footwell.

“You’re so embarrassing,” he grinned, but he didn’t mean it. Not at all. His heart actually felt like it was going to burst. A few months ago for his fifteenth birthday Tony had given him an official internship at Stark Tower, as his personal assistant.

It basically meant Peter could come around whenever Tony was there, and usually ended in them making up crazy things and ordering takeout.

It also meant Tony picking him up from school like this. Peter had lost count of how many times he’d daydreamed of just running over to Tony, jumping into his arms and kissing him. Tony was starting to grow a little facial hair now, a light dusting of stubble that made Peter feel all funny whenever he thought about it.

“So, how was school, Petercakes? That kid still being an ass? What is it…Flake?” Peter snickered, slouching back into the seat and pressing the button for his window as Tony started the car, peeling carelessly out of the parking lot.

“Flash,” he corrected, with a one-shouldered shrug. “It’s okay. I mean, he believes me about the internship now you’ve started picking me up, but. I don’t think anything would shut him up completely.” When Peter glanced across Tony tipped his head, that challenge accepted smirk on his face, and Peter pointed at him.

“Tony, no.”

“Tony, yes,” he shot back gleefully, before reaching across to nudge Peter gently. “Relax, I’ll probably just arrange a field trip to SI or something. Sing your praises in front of everyone. Hey - bet I could get photos of you framed on my walls by the end of the night.”

Peter groaned, sinking lower into his seat.

Today’s Important Science encompassed going to the movies to see the new Fast and Furious film, before eating their weight in ice cream to determine if chocolate chip mint was better than toffee crunch delight. Tony got them two small cones to go, and they parked up at the beach front, watching the lights twinkle off the dark water.

“How was your date with Alita yesterday?” Peter asked in the comfortable silence that fell, cringing immediately afterwards. Great. A perfect, private evening together and he was bringing up his girlfriend. Besides him, Tony cringed in tandem.

“We, uh… Actually broke up. That’s why we went out to dinner. As a break up… Thing,” Tony mumbled in response, turning away and looking out of the window as he crunched the last of his cone. Peter almost dropped his in surprise, blinking across at Tony. But… They had looked so cosy leaving the restaurant.

“She was just… We weren’t right for each other, I guess. Y’know how it is,” Tony shrugged after a brief pause, pulling a wet-wipe from the glove compartment and cleaning off his fingers. Fidgeting, mostly. Peter could relate. He suddenly felt itchy within his skin, too warm. Tony was single again. He bit at his lip, trying to think of what to say.

“Oh. Well… I still love you,” he breathed out, stiffening when he realised what he’d said. Across from him Tony chuckled, reaching out to fluff up his hair and casting a fond look over the rim of his glasses.

“I’m glad me being a lonely old man doesn’t change the way you think of me,” Tony responded, voice light and teasing. Peter shifted his gaze away, out to the illuminated waters.

He didn’t know if Tony thinking he was joking was worse than Tony realising Peter had meant it. He stuffed the last of his cone into his mouth to avoid saying anything else, and another few moments passed before Tony begun to drive him home.

Peter leaned across the centre console when Tony pulled up, dragging the older man in for their customary hug. Tony was broader than he used to be, shoulders filling out, biceps bigger and rounder. His tummy was different, too. Thick muscle and lean abs in place of where he used to be slim like Peter was now.

His hair was soft, fluffy. A little longer than Tony usually kept it, and his aftershave was musky and heavenly when Peter nuzzled into the crook of his neck, squeezing tightly.

“I meant it,” he breathed against the warm skin there, closing his eyes tight. “I do love you. I know I do. And you can laugh like you did last time, but that doesn’t change it.”

Tony briefly stiffened against him, before he relaxed, petting gently at Peter’s hair. “You don’t know love, Peter. You’re fifteen. You’ve still got years left to learn and grow and experience things. To learn love and how it feels. To find someone. Now go on, before May shouts at us again.”

Tony let him go, pushing his shades higher to his eyes again, and Peter’s heart broke as he scooped up his bag, fleeing for the safety of his bedroom. He cried that night, tucked up against his pillow, duvet pulled up to his cheeks.

He knew what love meant. He had since he was ten, looking into Tony’s honey-coloured eyes and wishing he could look at them forever.

He knew he loved Tony. Knew belatedly that he always would. But this was the second confession of his love, and the second rejection of his feelings.

He fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, eyes red and cheeks ruddy. He stayed in bed for most of the day, avoiding his phone and citing illness when Aunt May lingered in the doorway, brows pulled in concern.

Tony picked him up on the Sunday. Neither of them raised what had happened, and neither of them acted differently to before. Peter supposed it was as much as he could hope for.

His twentieth birthday rolled around sooner than he could have expected, frantically finishing his entry exams for MIT and dealing with moving out of Aunt May’s apartment.

His faux internship in his teenage years had developed into an actual job at Tony’s marketing and research department. Tony was thirty these days, a heart-stopper and a bonafide billionaire thanks to his savvy, smart business choices.

Where Peter had remained a baby-faced, slim figure, Tony was tall and broad. He worked out daily and it showed in the expanse of his shoulders, the ripple of his biceps when he wore tank tops in the experimental labs. SI was branching into medical aid these days. Tony had grown his facial hair into artful stubble, thick and accentuating the sharp line of his jaw.

He was jaw-droppingly attractive, and Peter’s harboured love had only grown as he watched Tony go from a lost and uncertain young man into a grown, confident man.

Other people had seen the change too, and Peter had lost count of Tony’s partners at this point. One-night stands and brief stints at relationships. Time together cut short or cut completely because Tony was whisking away his latest slice to some Malibu getaway.

Peter tried not to be bitter, even when Tony begun a two year relationship with Peter’s manager, Ms. Pepper Potts. He tried to be supportive. Tried to be understanding whenever Tony cancelled their plans. Tried not to let his sadness show at the dark hickeys he often found littering Tony’s throat. His love never waned, not even slightly.

He rejected any advances from anyone else, knowing that he would be unable to stop himself thinking about Tony. Imagining it was Tony taking him to the movies or Tony kissing down his chest. Gwen watched disapprovingly each time he batted away an attempt at flirting, but remained the supportive (if blunt) friend.

He was laying on his bed, frowning at his latest set of study papers when the door flung open and Tony strode in, pausing only briefly to toe off his dress shoes and to flick the door shut behind him. Peter jumped at the sounds, craning across to try and see who was invading. He really didn’t have the energy to fend off a robber at this point in time.

“I’m hosting a party at the Tower, for your birthday,” Tony had announced, kicking Peter aside and taking his warm spot on the large queen that Peter had invested in. They still tried to make time for each other these days, but this was the first time Peter had seen Tony outside of work in over a week.

“Are you?” he asked lazily, frowning down at the now disorganised mess of paper. Tony dipped his glasses down and cast Peter with one of those flat do you dare doubt me looks that Peter had learned early to not to second-guess.

And that was how Peter ended up on the balcony of the Tower’s penthouse, gazing out at the stars and desperately trying to distract himself from the fact that Tony seemed to be flirting with everyone in the room except for him.

It had been an alright party, all things considered. Tony had invited Gwen and a few of their mutual friends from Stark Industries, and apparently several other people he knew but Peter didn’t. They were all nice people, chatty and knowledgeable and all ready to drink until they passed out.

Tony had brought lavish gifts in a pile almost as tall as Peter and the majority of the guests had all brought a gift or two along as well. Peter now had more ties, watches and bottles of alcohol than he had space for but he was delighted at each one, taking a shot each time he opened a present as instructed

Tony had bought him a dorky lab coat, (”in honour of how we met, Petercakes.”) and two soft sweaters. A gorgeous, deep red tie that Peter was sure matched one Tony owned himself. Three bottles of expensive, fruity alcohol and several small baggies of various chocolate covered fruits. A pair of classy, dark shades and a massive bath set filled with fruity scrubs and fizzy bath-bombs.

Peter had no idea ho he was gonna get all of it back to the Tower, and he vaguely mused on just leaving it all here for the night and picking it back up in the morning. He let his head loll against the cooling breeze, grip slackening on his flute of champagne. He’d lost count of how much he’d had to drink.

“What’cha Bruce Wayne-ing for out here, Peter?” came Tony’s slightly slurred, drunk-high voice from behind him, and Peter couldn’t help stiffening a little, gaze lifting from his arms to the city line before them. His stomach twisted with the thought of Tony mingling in the crowd, chatting up girls and flirting with boys.

“I’m not Batmanning,” he pouted, forcing himself to look when Tony came up half-besides him and half-behind him. Tony smelt like expensive whiskey and musky aftershave. His hair was mussed from the sleek style it had been in earlier, and three smudged lipstick prints dotted the line of his jaw.

Peter turned his gaze away.

“Out here alone, gazing moodily at the dark night, while a party in your honour is in full blast behind you,” Tony hummed, leaning against Peter’s shoulder heavily as he joined him in staring out at the twinkling lights of New York.

It took a moment for Peter to hone in on the scent of smoke, and he turned his head in alarm, only to find Tony grinning across at him, holding out a tiny cupcake with a single candle.

“I’ve already done the cake,” Peter mumbled, watching the small flame flickering in the breeze. Tony had custom-ordered a massive cake, with icing and sprinkles and little white chocolate cookies and all other sorts of decoration. It had taken Peter eight breaths to blow out all the candles. Tony met his gaze, eyes dark and pupils blown.

“I know. But… This is special. Just for us,” Tony murmured, still watching him. Peter’s heart immediately begun to race, pounding against his ribs as he met Tony’s stare.

“Make a wish then,” Tony coaxed, a lopsided grin quirking his mouth as he shifted his weight against the balcony. Peter kept his eyes as he listened, putting all of his faith and effort into thinking his wish before he leaned down, blowing the flame out with a short, sharp puff.

“What’da wish for?” Tony asked not even a second later, plucking the candle and tossing it aside to the floor as he offered Peter the cupcake. Peter hesitated, taking it and staring into the icing while he gathered his courage. Should he say it? Didn’t that ruin the magic?

He shifted uneasily, looking back out across the city as he sucked in a breath. “I wish you believed me when I say I love you,” he spat out in a rush, clutching the cupcake so tightly that it crumbled under his grip, icing folding across his knuckles. Tony stiffened besides him, pulling away a step and turning to face Peter, but he continued before Tony could say anything.

“I’m old enough to know love. I have been since I said it the second time. And… And I wish you loved me back. I really do. I know you don’t and I’m not gonna force it but I just… I mean it, Tony. And you know I do. I love you. I always have, and I think I will for a long time. Maybe always. But I just… That’s what I wished for. That you stopped treating it like a joke.”

Part of the cupcake fell away in a sad, dramatic slide and Peter forced himself to drag his gaze up, away from the view and across to Tony. Tony, who looked…Devastated. The expression on his face was enough of an answer for Peter, if the look in his eyes had failed to get the message across.

“Peter…I’m sorry, I…”

Peter let the rest of the cupcake fall, dropping his gaze to his trembling hands as he shook his head, unwilling to hear it. Unwilling to hear another rejection. He spun on his heel, almost stumbling as he fled for the door, pushing through and into the bright, loud warmth of the room.

He stuck the wall, desperately skirting anyone who noticed him with an apologetic smile as he fumbled for his jacket, forgoing the elevator for the stairs.

He made it down four floors before he sank against the railing, gasping for air. His vision blurred with tears and he dragged himself to the elevator, hitting the button miserably as he stared down at his icing smeared hands, willing the crushing sensation to give him enough time to get home.

His phone buzzed three times in his pocket, but he ignored it, stepping into the elevator and huddling into the corner as it carried him down to the foyer.

The night security looked surprised to see him, but obligingly ordered a car to be brought around, waiting with him and helping him into the back when it arrived. He wiped at his eyes, faking not feeling too good when the driver (Harry? Henry?) asked if he was alright.

When they arrived outside his house, the driver got out and helped him up, patting his shoulder comfortingly. He caught Peter’s eye, expression almost…Knowing.

“Whatever he said or did, kid… Don’t hold it against him too much. Tony hasn’t been right in himself since his parents. He’ll make it up to you. You’re the best thing that’s happened to him.”

Peter almost threw up on the spot, mumbling in response and darting for his door. The driver waited until he was inside, safe, before he left. Peter sank back against the door, finally giving into the burning sensation in his throat and howling as the tears begun to pour. Three times, he thought miserably.

He doesn’t love you. Never did. Never will.

A distant memory re-called itself to the front of his mind and through the haze of depression Peter fumbled for his phone, slick fingers sliding on the screen as he took several attempts to log into the Stark employee server. The announcement was still there, and his heart thumped with an icy determination as he scanned it.

Stark Industries was opening a new PR division in Malibu. 121 positions available.

He flipped to his email, thumbing in Pepper Pott’s ID. Despite her and Tony’s break-up she had remained a valued member of the company, double-acting as Tony’s PA and a member of HR.

His heart sank lower and his blood run colder with each word, until he felt numb as he hit send. He let his head fall back against the door, phone sliding to the carpet and he squeezed his eyes shut.

It was for the best.

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antichristsxbox · 4 years

Note

Hi! I’d like to request Michael x Reader where Michael has to deal with a very drunk reader? Perhaps scare off drunken suitors? 👀

Summary: The reader and Michael are at a party, but Michael isn’t too thrilled when another guy tries to hit on you. I choose to make this a college party where both the reader and Michael are students attending a frat party. Also, warning, this is smutty! :)

From the writer: Hey, Anon! Sorry it took me so long to answer this, I was trying to think of a good setting/context for this to happen. Also, I’m sorry if there’s a few imperfections as I only proofread this a couple of times and didn’t have anybody else look it over. I was just eager for you guys to read this and I’m excited about it because I really need to practice writing smut, so let me know if you like this! If you happen to like this, check out the new fic I’m working on here! I’m planning on making it a few more chapters and some chapters will definitely contain smut. If that’s not your thing, check out my masterlist with plenty more things to read! Also, I’m sorry I couldn’t find a better gif but I love Jimmy Fallon so I think this is alright. :)

Word count: 2,125

“You can’t make me,” you say, downing another shot of Tito’s. You would much rather chase with cranberry juice, but this bar only has diet cranberry. Diet drinks have a really weird aftertaste, and mixed with alcohol, they just bring out the worst notes in each other.

Michael had been trying to get you to slow your roll, but it’s Friday night. There are only two weekend nights in the entire week, and you may as well make the most of it before it’s back to class on Monday. As you lower the glass from your lips, you see your friends heading outside to watch the game of pong. It’s always interesting to see who think they’re going to the the pong champs this week. Or, even better, when another drunk frat guy decides to jump on the folding table and make a complete fool of himself— effectively ending the game of pong when cups and booze come crashing down to the floor with him. Luckily, that hasn’t happened tonight, so far. There is always something entertaining to do— it’s always fun to watch. As you head out with your friends, Michael is now conversing with his lab partner. Both giant nerds, you must applaud them for managing to stay this sober when it’s already nearly eleven o’clock.

Pong has been going well, but somehow, you’ve ended up on a team with your girlfriends rather than being passive observers. On the opposing side, your friends from your art history class, all guys more apt to hold their alcohol than you and your friends. A ping-pong ball landed in a cup right in front of you— warm, gnatty lite makes its way down your throat. Coming up for air only after the last sip was taken, your team makes their shot. Still, you’re a few cups behind the opposing team, but you could be doing much worse.

Eventually, the game is lost to the opposing team and your friends retreat back inside with you. With the winning team quickly following, the room is now bombarded with loud shouts and whoops! from rowdy frat boys.

“Hey, Baby, what’s happening?” a guy wearing a Kappa Alpha dude-tank asks, walking in front of you and blocking you from moving any further in your tracks.

“Ugh, not you,” you say, shoving past him and making your way towards the front of the room. But, Kappa Alpha dude has another plan in mind. As you sit on the stained, alcohol-smelling couch, he follows quickly and is now sitting next to you. It takes a lot to ward off a guy like this, but it may be easier if another guy was with you for the scare factor. Reaching for your phone, you text Michael and tell him to meet you in the living room. It shouldn’t be long now.

As Michael’s eyes lock with yours, you gesture to the guy sitting next to you in an annoyed manner.

“Hey, man,” Michael says, placing a hand on the frat guy’s shoulder, “that’s my girl, you should be heading off now.”

Frat guy does not take this well. He stands, shoves Michael into the dingy lamp next to the couch, and retreats back towards his friends. Although Michael can be hotheaded at times, he decides to let this one go, as this other man is obviously very inebriated and would likely not remember this instance tomorrow. Battery and assault charges may also be harsher towards a defenseless, drunk college boy.

Making the ultimate decision to leave the party, you and Michael make your way towards the other side of campus, near his dorm. This year, he was lucky enough to have a single dorm, rather than sharing with a roommate. The walk over includes soaking in how the light hits the long Spanish moss, then a shadow is cast towards your feet. The most simple things seem to provide entertainment when you’re slightly buzzed. Slightly, since most of the alcohol has worn off at this point— a lingering, weak wash over your senses still in the back of your mind.

Without making it a few steps past Michael’s doorway, his hands already tangle in your hair and draw you in for a sloppy, faded kiss. The fruit punch of Michael’s earlier hurricane drink was lingering on his lips. Your hands snake around his waist and pull him closer. Sometimes, Michael’s protectiveness can steer you away or make you angry that he’s upset in the first place. Tonight, however, he kept his cool and was not reactive in his normal, vicious manner.

“Baby,” you drawl while unbuttoning your top and lifting his shirt. Warm skin presses together as you pull each other close again. Same old, except now you’re half-naked. Very close together, yet not the most intimate you’ve been with your beau by a long shot.

A noticeable bulge in his pants can be felt when you brush against him, still enjoying the sweet taste of his drink from earlier on your lips. Your hands make their way to his bulge and brush over his pants where it’s obvious, and he lets out a whimper as your fingertips settle just to the side of where his bulge lies, hands grabbing his hips and pulling him towards you.

Impatiently, his fingers make haste with your belt, then your pants button and zipper, until you’re standing only in your underwear. Similarly, Michael is now undoing his own pants as you make your way to his bed. Oh, he’s gotten so lucky— a full bed, no roommates, and he’s in the party dorm. Your roommate leaves tangles of hair and blobs of toothpaste in your shared sink. Michael is at such a different level, dorm-wise.

He’s finally made his way to the large bed; you’re under the covers, sinking in to his soft mattress and having soft sheets run past your legs as you wrap yourself around Michael’s waist. Hands grasp above your hips and pull you closer, his solid bulge now very present against your most sensitive area. As your hips roll forward, Michael thrusts forward, and he brushes up against you hard enough that you let out a moan and feel your pulse in your cunt. Muscles clench in your pelvis as Michael thrusts again.

The friction of fabric between you has now become annoying. Hands make their way to the band of your underwear and tug down. Freeing Michael from the constraints of his boxers, his hard cock springs up as his underwear is moved past. Warmness is the only feeling as his member brushes past your soaking pussy.

“He wouldn’t make you feel how you do like I can,” Michael says, moving back, but introducing his fingers to your wetness. They toy with your area for a minute, tracing your entrance and folds, then two are pushed inside— Michael knows one is a fairly lackluster sensation for you. He curls up, hitting your inside walls in the spot you need him most. As your moans increase in length and volume, Michael only quickens his pace with his fingers. You could feel him curl and straighten his fingers. Your hips rolled to match his pace, but were quickly defeated as he picked up his pace in anticipation of your orgasm.

“Michael, I want you,” you say, reaching for his hand and pushing it down. Fingers are great, especially when they’re Michael’s, but you have fingers too. His cock is truly unique. You thought you would get used to him eventually, but every time with him leaves you amazed at how fresh the feeling is of taking somebody so long with so much girth. At least eight and a half inches, and so wide you could barely touch your index finger to your thumb if you wrapped your hand around him.

He shushes you, but uses his hips to press more firmly where you want him. His hands trace over your hips and eventually fall on your breasts. You sit up, tired of his teasing. Using your hands as a guide, you line him up with your entrance and shift so you could straddle his waist. Hindsight, this may not have been a great idea, seeing how tired you are.

“It’s alright, Baby,” he says, sensing how little energy you have for this, but the needing and wanting still being present. Fully letting yourself relax on him, he fills you up, not a space inside untouched by Michael. Every time you were with Michael was less and less painful. This time, there was no pain present at all— only a very full feeling.

He holds on to your hips, gently thrusting up while keeping you balanced on top of him. You love how when you’re on top of him, you can control how deep he is or not. Using your legs to bounce up and match his pace, you find a rhythm that suits the both of your tired, faded selves. At least alcohol almost never had any bearing on how Michael “performs” but this could be due to the fact that he never consumes much when he drinks anyways.

As your legs begin to give out due to tiredness, Michael senses your growing weakness and slows down so you could sit and take a break. Even without him moving, he still feels amazing to sit upon and take in. Clenching your muscles makes Michael moan and thrust forward. His hands cup your ass and push you towards him.

“Mmm, I could go so hard, so fast,” he says, using his legs to push up again.

“Do it, Michael,” you say, running your fingers through his perfect, blonde curls and staring down at his beautiful blue eyes. A small kiss is exchanged before you dismount from his lap and lay down, face-down.

He normally doesn’t opt for doggy-style. He says he likes to see your face, like to read how his movements affect you and what they make you feel— all easy to understand when looking at your face. But, he knows you like how it feels and the depth that can be achieved when you’re giving him such unrestricted access, all bent over and back arched and ass out, combined with his hard thrusts and strength he could easily bottom out in you.

“Yeah, Baby, you’re gonna fucking get it,” he says, gently grabbing your waist to guide you up while he kneels behind you. Slowly, he enters and slides in and out with caution a few times, testing to see if this felt okay with you. Your soft moans let him know that this was good, and he continued to pick up his pace. Having him coming from the back allowed you to feel him fully, a stuffed sensation as he brushes your cervix with every thrust.

Obscene slaps! fill the room as he picks up his pace even more, a new sensation added as his balls slam against your cunt— he thrusts harder and harder, the new experience being a welcome addition as it stimulates you even more. Your walls tighten after a few moments of him giving it to you like this, but he doesn’t stop or let his pace fall behind.

“Oh, Michael!” you exclaim, now-erratic clenching taking over the muscles in your cunt, squeezing Michael with all the force in your body. Your orgasm has arrived, and the feeling is welcome as you ride it out with Michael continuing to thrust into you. His own orgasm is near, you could tell due to his increased panting and thrusts becoming more sparse, but still hard.

He lets out a yelp, then grabs your legs and pulls you onto him as he thrusts forward, his tip making full contact with your cervix. This happens a few more times before he releases his load deep in your pussy, his own warmth combining with your own making your knees weak. As he slowly pulls out from you, you collapse down on the bed. In a child’s pose like position, you rest your head on his pillow with your legs curled up beneath you. You may need some real yoga tomorrow to stretch out and become less sore after this.

“He couldn’t do that,” Michael says, resting his head next to yours on the other pillow. A smug smile takes over his face as you turn to look at him, planting a soft kiss on his lips. He still has a lingering taste of the sugary hurricane drink he has consumed at the party.

“No, he could not, only you can make me come like that,” you say, pulling the sheets over your naked body, ready for a long night of sleep.

“Likewise,” Michael agrees.

///

Tag list: @langdonsoceaneyes @ms-mead @daydreamingofcody @psychobitchtess @swampwitchh13

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon smut #michael langdon alternate universe #michael langdon au #american horror story #ahs

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kutemouse · 4 years

Text

And Then He Was Gray (Part Two)

Disclaimer: I edited the pic I used for my header, but the OG pic belongs to BTS & BigHit. The pic below isn’t mine either. I obviously don’t own Balenciaga.

Age Recommendation: 21+ (Not just a recommendation, kuties!)

Warnings: Consumption of alcohol, Tae and JK being rowdy drunks, lonely angst that disappears when he comes into the story (I think you know who I’m talking about by now 😉), sexual tension, talk of sex, betting, SWEARZ 4 DAYZ, lotsa skin showing, bikinis!

Word Count: 1,626

Summary: Your best friend Jeon Soyeon invites you to a kick-back with all of her friends and their significant others, intent on hooking you up with someone. Everyone seems taken, though, until he arrives, wearing a star-studded, gray top that makes your mouth water.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

And Then He Was Gray (Jin One-Shot, Smut, Fluff) Part Two

At the mention of beer pong, everyone cheered in agreement and started inside with me taking up the rear. I smiled, seeing Soyeon and Miyeon’s hands still intertwined. I was happy for them, I really was… but I couldn’t help feeling a bit left out. It’d been a long while since I had a boyfriend, choosing to concentrate on my family’s business rather than my social life after high school. Still, I missed having someone by my side, someone to cuddle with and confide in… someone who understood me. And yet, I hadn’t had a date in over two years. All of the boys I knew seemed to be either taken or not into girls like me. Then again, I was picky as well. It took a special kind of man to catch my eye.

I nervously tugged at my gray skirt again as we went into the basement and sat on various couches and chairs situated around a tv and ping pong table. Taehyung and Jungkook set up the cups in pyramid formations on both sides, filling them nearly to the brim with beer once they were done.

“Alright, rules!” Taehyung shouted over the din. “Teams of two each, and we’ll rotate out so the next team plays the winner of each round. Whoever’s left standing will be crowned the ultimate beer pong champions!”

“So extra,” Soyeon muttered, rolling her eyes.

Taehyung smirked. “And just for you, So-So, I’m adding another rule. Bounce shots that sink means two cups to drink.”

Soyeon groaned amidst the chuckles that broke out. “Taehyung, you know I’m already the worst at beer pong, do you have to make it even harder for me?!”

Miyeon grabbed my best friend’s hand and leaned in close. “Don’t worry, I’m pretty good,” she said, rubbing her thumb soothingly over Soyeon’s fingers.

I felt a twinge of disappointment. I was hoping Soyeon and I would be a team, but it looks like I’d be the odd person out. “Whatcha all doing?” a voice said. I turned to see him for the first time, intently watching us from the doorway. His right arm stretched above his head as he rested his elbow easily on the doorframe. I swallowed hard as I noticed his gray, star-patterned shirt riding up just enough for me to catch a glimpse of a lean, toned torso and a peek of what appeared to be Balenciaga boxers. He leaned forward, a playful smirk on his full, pink lips, causing his shirt to ride up and his jeans to slide down even more. My lips parted unconsciously as heat flooded straight to my core.

I immediately knew I wanted a taste of that honey-toned skin and those cotton-candy lips. The guy’s piercing brown eyes caught mine and his smirk grew. Tingles broke out all over my body. Shit. He knew my secret. I don’t know how, but he knew.

He tore his gaze away from me as his friends greeted him. “Jin, fucking finally!” Namjoon said, standing up and clapping him on the shoulder.

“Yeah, we would’ve waited for you, hyung,” Taehyung pouted. “We’ve already started beer pong, and everyone has a team already.”

“Not everyone,” I said loudly. Everyone turned to look at me, Soyeon’s mouth dropping open in shock. Now that I think about it, I think this was the first time she’d ever seen me speak up in a public setting. I was normally pretty shy and reserved, keeping to myself and trying to not be a bother. Even I was astounded by my own behavior, but that look that he gave me… I just had to know. I had to know if he knew.

“Oh, that’s right,” Taehyung said weakly. “Y/n doesn’t have a team. Sorry Y/n, I didn’t realize we had an odd number.”

“That’s okay,” I said, shooting him a smile.

“Well, then,” Jin said. He stepped right in front of me, looking down at me sitting on the couch, hands shoved in his jean pockets. “Guess we’re a team.”

I blushed profusely as he sat down, making himself comfortable in the seat beside me and slinging an arm over to rest easily on top of the couch.

The first teams up were Tae and Yuqi versus Jungkook and Shuhua. The boys loudly trash-talked each other nearly the entire game, with the girls getting more and more giggly as more cups emptied. Finally, it was down to the last cup on Taehyung’s side, while Jungkook’s side had three cups left. “It’s over,” JK said, giving his hyung a wide, evil grin.

“Like hell it is,” Taehyung growled. “You got this, babe.”

Yuqi stepped up, swaying a little, and took her time lining up the shot. “Go Yuqi!” Shuhua cheered. “You can do it!”

Yuqi giggled then took the shot. It bounced off the rim of the cup, eliciting groans from everyone, including her boyfriend. “Awww, babe, don’t worry though, it’s okay,” Taehyung said, tugging his girlfriend close and brushing his nose against hers. “If we get out this round, we can go do something else that’s fun.”

“Oh hell no,” Jungkook said, pointing at Taehyung. “If I find you guys fucking in my bed, or anywhere else in this house, I will kick you out. I’m serious, Tae.”

“What if we promise to wash the sheets?” Taehyung said, waggling his eyebrows.

“Get the fuck out,” Jungkook retorted with a grin, pointing at the door.

“Okay, okay, let’s make things interesting,” Taehyung said, holding his hands up. “If you miss this next shot, you can’t say another word about what Yuqi and I do and where… but if you make it, Yuqi and I won’t touch a single bed in this place.”

“Or couch, or chair, or counter, or table.”

“Fine,” Taehyung said, rolling his eyes.

Jungkook lined up the shot, making us all hold our breath in anticipation. He tossed the ball, and I swear, the rest of us followed its entire trajectory with our eyes until it landed… hit the rim of the cup… and bounced off.

Taehyung roared in approval, grabbing Yuqi by the waist and spinning her around, while Jungkook sank to the floor in mock-defeat and Shuhua laughed her ass off. I was giggling at their exchange when Jin leaned over and murmured something in my ear. “I think we can easily take whoever wins.”

His breath tickled and I leaned away instinctively. “Yeah, maybe,” I muttered before clearing my throat.

I saw a trace of disappointment in Jin’s eyes at my reaction, but before I could question it, he blinked and it was gone, replaced by a laughing smile as he surveyed the drama in front of us. Taehyung may have won the bet, but Shuhua sunk the last shot, winning the game overall. “Alright, who’s next?!” Jungkook practically yelled.

“This is boooooring,” Soyeon drawled. “Don’t you guys have a pool? We brought our swimsuits, you know.”

I blinked. We did?

Jungkook and Taehyung looked at each other. “Pool it is,” Tae said, shrugging. “I needed an excuse to get naked anyway.”

Everyone groaned and Namjoon even chucked a pillow at Taehyung. “Shut the fuck up, dude,” he said, shaking his head.

“C’mon,” Soyeon muttered, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me up. “Shuhua has a bunch of stuff here. She’ll have something that’ll fit you.”

I followed my best friend down the hallway into what looked like a guest bedroom. She threw open a door to a walk-in closet filled with womens’ clothing, opening one of the drawers and rifling through it. “This is all Shuhua’s?” I gasped.

Soyeon shrugged. “Yeah. She stays here for weeks at a time since she lives kinda far away. Jungkook’s parents are cool with it because he keeps telling them they’re gonna get married.”

“Are they?”

“Eventually. They’ve been together since high school and are still hot for each other. I doubt they’ll be breaking up any time soon.”

“Must be nice,” I said absentmindedly.

My best friend turned to look at me. “Hey, you’ll find someone,” she said, stopping her search and reaching out to grab my hand. “In fact, I think that someone is here tonight. Did you see the way Jin looked at you?”

I shrugged uncomfortably. “I guess.”

Soyeon rolled her eyes. “Y/n. We have been trying so hard to find a girl Jin likes. I’ve introduced him to every acquaintance I have and then some,” she said. “He’s never looked at any of them the way he looked at you, let alone said more than two words to them.”

I frowned. “You’ve never introduced him to me.”

“Yeah, because he’s kind of a douchebag,” she said. “He treats girls like tissues… you know, use once then throw away? I think my best friend can do better.”

“Wait, then why are you now so intent on hooking us up?”

“Because,” Soyeon sighed, turning back around and rifling through the drawer once more. “At this rate, even if it’s only a one-night stand, it’s a win in my book.”

“Wow, thanks,” I scoffed.

“Hey, if getting laid by a smoking-hot, drop-dead gorgeous guy like Jin brings your sex drive back into play, then so much the better for you,” she retorted, tossing a couple pieces of fabric at me. “Wear this.”

I held them up to the light. “No,” I said firmly. The bikini was a pretty, bright turquoise, but it was so… flimsy. I’d feel totally naked wearing this. The top wore like a sports bra with straps criss-crossing in the front to show off some cleavage. The bottoms would be normal except one side was made entirely of straps, dipping towards my core in a provocative way.

“Fuck no.”

Soyeon tossed me a wide, mischievous smile. “Fuck yes.”

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Y'all remember this?!?! I straight up died when this pic dropped. I stared at it quite frequently when I needed some inspiration for this one-shot. Enjoy suffering with me 😈 Here’s Part Three!

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tasteslikepepsicola · 5 years

Text

Somebody Else (Sodapop Curtis x Reader Part 4)

Part 3 - please read before proceeding to read this chapter

Y/N and Steve are together, and haven’t heard from Sodapop in weeks, everything should be going great for the new couple, but something seems wrong.

Word Count: 1,700+

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of drugs and alcohol

Authors Note: wow wow wow! I’m really sorry this took so long! I actually had half of this written a couple weeks ago, and decided I hated the direction I took it in, so scrapped it and had to start from scratch. I also started school, meaning I had less free time to write, and I just wanted to make sure it was perfect before I posted it. Next part coming soon! Thank you for supporting me <3 I love you. Oh! and ~ please send in some requests ~ I love to write for ideas you guys may have. Also, I promise the name will make sense eventually. Anyways, enjoy the story!

Tears stream down her cheeks and Y/N chokes back a sob, racing down the steps of the Curtis home as fast as she can, ignoring Sodapop calling and chasing after her. She couldn’t do this, she couldn’t listen to a half-assed apology from him. She couldn’t feel his intense stare, or deal with the absolute hurt she saw in his eyes when she told him about Steve. Flashbacks replay in her mind through short montages. Steve grabbing her waist, pulling their bodies so close. Sodapops glossed over eyes as he drunkenly stared at her from across his dimly lit kitchen. The sharp, abrupt sound of Ponyboy startling her awake.

And most of all, the heartbreak in Sodapops voice when he told her, He has a part of you now. A part of you that you can’t get back. Something you can’t give me anymore.

She wanted to be mad, she really wanted to. She knew that his statement was dumb, outdated, ignorant even. But she couldn’t help but feel that deep down he was right. She lost her virginity to a boy she didn’t love, to distract herself from the boy she did. How could it get any worse than that?

She doesn’t stop running until she is at the end of his street, turning the corner when she slams into something, hard. She falls backwards, flat on her ass, and cradles her head that just collided with another runners.

Through the pounding noise and feeling in her head, she hears someone ask, “Y/N?” She rubs her eyes to clear them of the dizziness and tears that still fall.

“Steve?” she wonders aloud.

“Jesus,” he says, now noticing her tear stained cheeks. “What’s wrong, baby? Are you okay?” He outreaches his hand to her, helping her to her feet.

“Everything is so screwed up,” she says.

He pulls her into a tight hug, holding her as she lets herself cry into his shoulder. Neither of them says anything for a while, each enjoying the others comforting presence. It’s almost peaceful, until Y/N feels Steve pull away. She looks up at him, confused. She notices him staring past her, and when she finally turns around she sees Sodapop, about ten feet away, still catching his breath, staring sadly at them.

“Sodapop-” Steve starts, walking towards him. Sodapop immediately turns the other direction and Steve begins walking after him, fast.

When he reaches his best friend, Steve places a hand on Soda’s arm, in an effort to get him to stop.

“Sodapop please just wait a minute.” Steve says.

“Forget it Steve, I don’t have anything to say to you two.”

Y/N makes her way towards the pair, “Sodapop, please, we can work through this if you just listen.” She isn’t quite sure how she could be so angry at him and still not be able to face him walking away from her.

Sodapop turns around swiftly at the sound of her voice.

One last look of betrayal flashes through his eyes, and Y/N is at last, speechless. The two of them don’t need to say anything, because they both already know, there’s nothing to be said anymore. And so, she watches him walk away, again. This time, the world is turning, her feet are on the ground, and this is real. And the distance between them is only getting greater as he walks away from her, and she doesn’t follow after him.

*****

It’s been five weeks since Y/N saw Soda last. And besides the remaining longing for someone else, things with Steve had been going great. They had been going to the movies, taking long walks accompanied by longer talks, and Steve had even surprised her with a picnic in a grassy field that they had found on one of their walks. Y/N could feel herself starting to truly move on. For the first time in years, someone else was on her mind besides him.

There were only a few weeks left in the Summer, meaning it would be filled with the last parties of the season. On this particular Saturday night, Y/N was accompanying Steve to a party at Buck’s. She was wearing her hair straightened, (the way Steve liked it,) and a tight, square neck, red dress. She and Steve held hands as they walked into the party, one of many they had attended that Summer together. They scanned the room for Dallas and Two-Bit, who they planned on meeting there tonight. By now, they had established themselves as a bit of an it-couple, everyone wanted what they had. They were hot, happy, and from what everyone could see, they were in love.

Although, nobody knew the truth. Neither Steve nor Y/N had admitted their love for the other yet, and for no reason other than the presence of an unshakeable feeling that still, they were doing something wrong, like an inextricable weight they were carrying around.

The party was loud, crowded, and smelled of marajuana, boos and body odor. Before her and Steve became an item, Y/N rarely partied. Standing in that red dress, watching a game of beer pong being played by Steve, Jess, Two-Bit and Dally- Y/N found herself reminiscing about the Saturday nights she had spent curled up on the couch at the Curtis house. While everyone went out, she and Sodapop would stay behind, and just enjoy the others presence. She shook her head, clearing the thought from her brain. It was true that Y/N had been thinking about Sodapop less these past few weeks, but that didn’t mean from time to time something would remind her of him.

The music changed from upbeat and intense, to slower and sweet, as “Put Your Head On My Shoulder” by Paul Anka started playing. The room suddenly filled with couples making their way to the center of the room, beginning to sway to the beat. Steve finished his game with one last bounce of a ping pong ball, making him a winner. He cheered and high fived Jess, and then made his way over to Y/N, grabbing her hips and pulling her in for a quick kiss.

“Dance with me, beautiful?” he hums.

She smiles, taking his hand, and following his lead to the center of the room. As the beat picked up, he rested his hands on her waist, she hooked her arms around his neck, and stared up at him through thick eyelashes. They swayed back and forth, as he moved one of his hands to rest on the small of her back.

“Y/N…” Steve started.

“Steve,” she quipped back.

“I care about you so much,”

“I care about you too, hone.”

“There's something I want to tell you-” he started.

Suddenly, Y/N smelled an all too familiar cologne, and the boy who smelled like roses and gasoline made his way towards the crowd and past Steve and Y/N. She wondered if Sodapop saw them, was he coming to them? Her question was partially answered as Soda walked right by them, briefly pausing to put his hand on Y/N’s shoulder, in what looked like an attempt to make his way through the crowd better.

Steve and Y/N exchanged a glance, and she thought to herself, he must know what he’s doing. Why did he even show up here? He knew we would be here, and he hasn’t been to a party since...since that night. And he hasn’t talked to either of us since that day on the street outside his house...what's his motive?

And then, like a ton of bricks, it hit Y/N, that maybe he’s just here because its a party. That maybe, he actually didn’t see his two oldest friends, because that isn’t what they were to him anymore. They were all just strangers, and he came here to have a good time, maybe meet a girl, and for once, it wasn’t because of or about her.

No longer wanting to think about this awkward situation, and completely forgetting Steve was trying to tell her something, Y/N put her head on his shoulder, her eyes just barely being able to peer over him, as he held her so close.

The music was still playing, and more people continued to make their way onto the dance floor.

“Y/N?” Steve asked once more.

“Yes?” she questioned, not moving her head from its position on his shoulder.

“I- I love you, Y/N,” Steve whispered softly.

Y/N is stunned for a minute, unsure of what to say. She still had so much to figure out. No, she shouldn’t, it should be clear who she loves by now. But- why doesn’t it seem to be?

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Sodapop leading some girl to the dance floor, her giggling, looking back at her friends with a blush on her face, as Sodapop grins with satisfaction. He had only been here for two minutes, how had he already found a girl thats drooling all over him?

And then, it's clear, Sodapop has moved on, and so should she.

Y/N takes her head away from Steve's body, and stares into his deep, green eyes.

“You love me?” she asks.

“I love you,” he repeats.

“I love you, too.” she says, as he breaks out into one of the biggest smiles she had ever seen him wear.

He grabs her hand, holding it up, intertwined with his own, and turns to the couple next to them, showing their hands, and loudly exclaiming, “She loves me!”

They look utterly confused, but his enthusiasm is endearing.

“Yes, I love you, so can you please come back to Earth and kiss me already?” she tells him, playfully grabbing him by the collar and making him look at her.

“Say it again.” he teases.

“Oh my god,” she rolls her eyes, unable to control her laughter.

“Say it, Y/N.”

“Oh my god! I love you Steve Randle, now kiss me you idiot!”

And finally, he connects their lips as the music dies, and the rest of the world fades away; so much in fact, that neither of them feels Sodapop’s burning gaze on them, and neither knows that his heart had just shattered into a million pieces.

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hershelsstyles · 6 years

Text

Lost in Japan

Part 3 - Harry gives Nina a backstage tour

word count: 2,281

Series masterlist

The city gets dark and after having dinner at a local restaurant, I go back to my hotel. After I check in and get up to my room, the first thing I do is pull my SD card out of my camera and shove it in my laptop.

I look at the amazing images I got from today, I choose my favorite and post it to Instagram. I tag the location and write a small caption.

Less than a few minutes later, the picture has over 2,000 likes, and so many comments saying the same thing.

"Omg Harry's in Tokyo to!! Is that why he followed her?"

I remember how Harry said he would be in Japan soon. My stomach starts to feel bubbly. Why am I feeling nervous?

After chilling, I open my laptop again and decide to read through my emails. It's crazy how when you gain a small following on Instagram the number of random companies email you with all sorts of weird brand deals. Almost all of them are spam, but I come across one email from a personal Gmail account that I don't recognise. I click on it.

From: [email protected]

Hello, you have been invited to Harry Styles live on tour in Tokyo on the 12th of May. Please be at the venue at 7 pm, give your name to the box office to collect your tickets. Looking forward to seeing you there.

Kind Regards

Jeffery Azzof,

Full Stop Management.

This is insane. I immediately check the date as I have basically been jumping time zones throughout the last week, I have no idea what day it is. Today is the 11th of May, that means the concert is tomorrow. My heart is skipping beats, I feel so excited. This is actually crazy, Harry has invited me to his show! How does he know I'm in Tokyo? I know I told him I was going to be in Japan soon, but I never specified dates. My phone buzzes in my lap. Its a notification from Instagram, @harrystyles liked your post. I open the app to see which one he liked, it's not even my latest post, he's looking through my feed.

I don't even have to think about whether I'm going or not, there is no question about it. I don't know if I'm supposed to reply to the email or not. I decide against replying because firstly I would know what to say or not sound desperate. I sit on my bed and try to comprehend what just happened. I think about what I'm going to wear, what is it going to be like? Am I going to see him? Obviously, I'm going to see him perform, but will we get the chance to see each other again?

I decided I should probably listen to his album some more if I'm going to his show. As I'm getting ready for bed I'm singing the words to 'Sweet Creature', his album is actually really good. It so different to One Direction but I find myself starting to really like it. I wonder if it's going to sound different live, what kind of show he will put on. I fall asleep listening to ‘From the Dining Table.’

The next morning when I wake up, I remember the events of last night and my evening plans and my stomach is doing flips. I'm so excited, but nervous. As I hop in the shower and get ready for the day I can't wipe a smile off my face.

Today I was planning on going to the gardens Harry suggested I visited, and since the show is at 7 pm I still have the whole day ahead. After spending the day around Tokyo shooting the whole time, I head back to my hotel around 5 pm so I can get ready.

After I shower, I straighten my hair. I put on a bit of light makeup which consists of a tinted moisturizer, bronzer, a swipe of highlighter on my cheekbones and eyelids, mascara, and lip balm.

I put on my outfit which is a red dress which comes above my knees and has buttons down the front. It light and summery as Tokyo weather is warm, and so is a concert. I decide against any fancy shoes and settle with my old skool black vans, I'm going to need comfort as Ill probably be standing the whole night.

After spending about 20 minutes trying to figure out a route to get to the venue on public transport, I decided to give up and call a taxi. I don't want to risk getting lost and being late. I make my way down to the hotel lobby just as the taxi arrives.

When I get to the venue I'm overwhelmed with how large it is. I quickly spot the box office in the crowds of people and make my way over. Next to me is the merchandise tent with very long lines. I look at the merch being sold as I join the much shorter line for the box office, my eye is caught by the 'Treat People With Kindness' t-shirts, I love that, he's using his platform to spread such a nice message. I really want to get one but the line is so long and I'm already in the line for the box office.

Soon it's my turn to step up to the window. I begin to realise the person working probably doesn't know English, and I don't think my Japanese is good enough to explain why I'm here. My worries soon disappear as when I approach the window she greets me in English.

"Hello, how can I help you today?"

"Hi, um I was told to come here and pick up a ticket for Nina Grey"

"One moment please," she says as she types into her keyboard. I nervously watch her in anticipation, maybe that email was a joke, my email is in the bio of my Instagram, anyone could have sent it.

I start feeling hot, and not because of the warm weather, my nerves are kicking in. She then picks up the phone next to her and starts speaking quickly in Japanese. I can't understand anything she's saying other than when she says my name.

She puts down the phone, I'm fully preparing myself for her to start laughing at me and tell me there no ticket for me.

But she instead smiles at me "I will just print your ticket now, Jeff will be here to take you inside soon"

I recognise the name Jeff, the guy who sent the email. A flood of relief comes over me. The lady hands me my ticket and tells me to wait by the VIP check-in area for Jeff. I thank her as I walk away.

Not long after, a tall man in his early thirties walks over to me, he reaches out his hand to shake mine. "Hi, you must be Nina, I'm Jeff, Jeffery Azzof. I'm Harry's manager, the guy who sent you the email."

I shake his hand, "Hi yes I'm Nina, nice to meet you."

"Well, we better get you inside, ah and before I forget you will need this." He hands me a lanyard with backstage written on it.

"Follow me." He says.

"I really wasn't expecting this, thank you"

"No problem, now I'm just warning you, backstage can be pretty chaotic, so try not to get in the way, everything needs to run smoothly." I nod while we keep walking.

I can tell Jeff is good at his job, his tone wasn't rude or mean, just simply being honest, which I appreciate.

We pass a security guard as we enter through a large door, Jeff waves and smiles. The security guard doesn't say a thing. Jeff was right about backstage being chaotic, there is staff running around, people chatting, eating, and getting ready.

Jeff takes me to the main area where there's a food and drinks table, there's also couches and tables all around, and a ping pong table in the middle of the room. The table has the same words written on it as the merch, 'Treat People With Kindness'.

There are two people that are playing a seemingly serious game of ping pong. One of them looks to be a sound engineer as he's wearing all black and has earpieces, walkie-talkies, and many wires sticking out of his pockets. He hits the ball to the other person playing with him. It's Harry. He's wearing sweatpants, black vans, and a white t-shirt which I recognise, it's his own merch.

I stand and watch the game with Jeff, "Harry is very serious about his ping-pong" He says.

When Harry goes to hit the ball he looks up at me and smiles. He completely misses the ball and it bounces off the table onto the ground and under a couch. The sound guy throws his hands up in the air.

"I finally won! I bet the unbeatable Harry Styles!" Harry doesn't seem to care very much as he puts down his bat and walks over to me.

"Nina, how lovely it is to see you again!" He says going in for a hug. "Thank you for inviting me"

"No problem, I figured since you're here and all you might as well come! I didn't think you would to be honest, we have only met once."

"Of course I was going to come, who would say no to a free show?" I say laughing, he laughs too.

"No seriously, I had nothing else better to do, and I listened to some of your stuff and it's actually pretty good"

"Thank you, that means a lot. You look incredible by the way, red is defiantly your colour." I feel my cheeks starting to blush, and before I can say anything back he grabs me by the hand. "Okay let me show you around"

He first takes me to some dressing rooms, there is a hairdresser styling a guys hair sitting in a chair.

"Nina, this is Ayae our hairstylist, and Adam my guitarist getting his hair styled, because he defiantly needs it," he says jokingly.

"Adam, Ayae, this is Nina."

"Hi, nice to meet you guys"

"So this is the girl you met in business class while the rest of us were sitting in coach?" Adam says in a thick British accent.

"Yes actually it is, and I offered to upgrade you guys, but you all said no"

"Well, we will see you guys later, better get on with this backstage tour." Harry says as he walks out the door, I wave goodbye. The door to the next room is shut, as Harry knocks, I read the sign above it which reads 'Wardrobe'.

"Its always good to knock, I've definitely walked in on more people changing than I would have liked to," He says laughing.

"Come in!" An American voice yells out. Harry opens the door and there are two people standing there looking very suspicious.

"You guys were definitely making out weren't you?" Harry asks. "Definitely not!" the woman exclaims too overprotectedly.

"This is Mitch and Sarah. Mitch is my best friend and guitarist, and Sarah plays the drums, very well might I add." They both acknowledge me by nodding their heads.

"Hi, I'm Nina"

"So this is wardrobe where we keep all our clothes" Harry says as he runs his hand over all the clothing on the racks. "Okay we better be moving on" Harry says as he walks out of the room.

I'm shown around more places, and basically introduced to every person we see. Helene his photographer, Claire his pianist, and many more people I can't remember the names of.

He looks at his watch, "I'm going to have to go and get ready for the show soon, but I want to show you one more thing." He says excitedly.

I follow him as we wind down more hallways, through more doors, and the further we go the louder it gets.

"Warpaint the opening act is on now, but you have to see the crowd from here," he says as he runs up the metal stairs leading to the side of the stage.

I look out at the crowd, "Woah, this is insane" I say. The whole arena is filled. "Don't you feel nervous?" I ask "All these people have come to see you"

"I don't really get nervous anymore, only when there are people in the crowd I know, like you." He says, I smile and laugh, this is so crazy.

"Well we better go back now, I'm due on stage soon, this is their last song."

When we get back to the main backstage area, Harry goes up to Jeff and puts his hand on his shoulder.

"Make sure Nina gets to her seat alright"

"Sure thing" he says then gets distracted by his phone ringing. "Sorry gotta take this" he says walking away.

"Well Jeff is going to kill me if we get behind schedule, so I better be off to get ready. Thank you for coming tonight, I know its kind of odd I just met you, but I really wanted you to be here."

"No thank you for inviting me, that was really nice of you."

"Enjoy the show, see you after?"

"Sure, good luck Harry," I say smiling as he walks off down the hallway.

Jeff walks over to me and puts away his phone. "Okay should I take you to your seat now?"

"That would be great, thank you," I say as Jeff gestures me to follow him out the way he showed me in.

Part 4

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #fanfic #1d #harry styles smut #liam payne #louis tomlinson #niall horan #harry styles fanfiction #one direction #fluff #dirty harry imagine #fanfiction #fandom #writing #harry styles live on tour

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vognsentemple7-blog · 5 years

Text

Why Are 2,000,000 People in america Playing Pickleball?

Why are two,000,000 Us citizens playing pickleball? Pickleball Shirts 's the concern I questioned myself every single time I rode earlier the tennis and pickleball courts in my new housing improvement at Arbor Creek in Southport, North Carolina. The 1st few weeks I was as well active unpacking packing containers to be part of in the enjoyable, but a buddy (who performs 2 times a 7 days) explained, "Joe, you will enjoy the match because you already really like tennis, racquetball, and ping-pong." She was right. The game is a combo of all 4 activities. The paddle, produced of graphite or wooden, is larger than a ping-pong paddle, and shorter that a racquetball racquet. It truly is lighter than a badminton racquet. The court is rectangular, 20 feet vast, and 44 ft prolonged. The "kitchen area" is seven 7 ft prolonged starting up from the web and 20 feet wide. The kitchen is a security the place you can not slam the ball in someone's experience. If the ball lands in the kitchen area, you must permit the ball bounce when to maintain the volley going. Conserve experience, pickleball. (Pun meant.) The official pickleball court is a rectangle with dimensions equivalent to 20 ft extensive by 44 toes prolonged (inclusive of lines) for the two singles and doubles. The non-volley line is the line on every single aspect of the internet amongst the sidelines and parallel to the net. These lines are positioned seven toes from the web. You need to serve the ball over and above the kitchen and land in the boundaries of the rectangle to continue play. The server only will get one provide if the ball goes out of play. Then the 2nd player on the exact same staff serves. You can not rating except if you have the provide. We engage in seven or eleven points win, and you have to earn by two factors. Wiffle balls occur in 4 color from yellow to white. The light-weight paddles let you to put spins on the plastic ball by slicing at it. The ball bounces moderately higher, and it cannot be strike on a fly the very first time it is served for the duration of a spherical of play. A phrase of warning: do not back-pedal for a ball hit large in excess of your head. Change all around swiftly, sprint to the ball with short methods, and hit it, or just enable it slide in. No hit ball is ever well worth crashing on green-coloured asphalt. I have crashed five moments on the ground ahead of I uncovered to enjoy the ball safer, and to use sneakers that had been proper for me. I have not fallen in numerous months, knock on flake-board. The splendor of pickleball is not that it is called "pickleball" and supposedly named after a pet referred to as "Pickle." In accordance to legend, Congressman Joel Pritchard invented the match in 1965 on Bainbridge Island just to keep the little ones occupied on a summer season working day. Actually, the puppy was named right after the recreation was invented. Now it truly is the most popular recreation sweeping across The us, played inside or outside the house by in excess of two,000,000 players in retirement neighborhood facilities, physical education and learning lessons, and YMCA teams. Why is it sweeping the country over and above the great cheer it gives for its customers? Several retirees are leaping out of their comfort zone (the living place recliner or porch rocker) to play outside with their buddies and neighbors in a demanding sport of capabilities and wits in the sunshine. Do they want to crush their opponents? Are they out for blood? No. They just want to engage in their very best, listen to the chatter of friends, get a tiny sunshine, physical exercise, and an excellent paddle shot to don't forget.

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thatbluegibson · 6 years

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CH 53

Thump

“Oh my god, make it stop,” Liz moaned, half asleep in Dave’s arms.

Thump thump

“I’m gonna call him,” Dave grumbled and moved to sit up in the dark.

“No,” Liz sleepily pulled him back to her, “They’re trying to have a baby. Let them enjoy their stupidity for at least one night.”

Dave stared down at Liz with wide eyes. “They’re trying to what?”

She froze, realizing she maybe just revealed some news about his best friend that wasn’t hers to tell. “Go back to sleep,” she whispered.

He settled back next to her, but was now wide awake. Taylor had just called him two days ago to tell him that Ally couldn’t carry any more children, so why the fuck were they trying to get pregnant? Two days ago they were looking for a surrogate - which didn’t mean they couldn’t fool around, but… oh shit.

“Liz…” his voice sounded like a warning.

“Mmmm,” she grumbled, snuggling her head deeper into his shoulder.

“What did Ally say… exactly?”

There was a brief pause before Liz took a breath, “Just that they were having a tough time getting pregnant. Why?” She shifted a little so she could see his face.

“She didn’t…” he wasn’t quite sure how to finish his question. Did my best friend and his wife try to knock you up? seemed a little much.

“Please don’t tell her I said anything. I don’t want her to think-“

“Taylor already told me,” he pulled her back to him and tried to relax enough to fall back asleep, “Don’t worry.”

Taylor grinned when Dave met him in the hallway between their two rooms. “You look like shit,” he laughed.

“Can’t imagine why,” Dave muttered.

“She keep you up all night?” Taylor pointed his chin towards the room Dave had snuck out of, leaving Liz sound asleep in their bed.

“No,” he pointed a finger in his face as he passed him, “you did.”

“Ha! Payback for all those tour bus groupies!” Taylor hurried to keep up.

Dave dragged his hand down his face when they reached the elevators, listening to the soft whirring of the weights behind the door.

“Hey, so…” Taylor shoved his hands in the pockets of the pants he was wearing the night before and awkwardly toed the tile floor. “Ally thinks she found someone.”

Fuck. “Oh yeah?” Dave tried to sound excited for him, but he was up most of the night dreading this exact conversation.

“Yeah. Says she’s in her early thirties, healthy and already has a couple successful pregnancies, so this actually might happen!”

“That’s awesome, man,” Dave tried to sound enthused, but just sounded tired.

“Ally’s pretty jazzed, you know?”

Bet she’s not feeling so great this morning, Dave thought bitterly.

“She’s been taking all this really hard… blaming herself for last time,” Taylor rattled on as they wandered into the lobby, passing the line at the Starbucks and leaving through a side door towards a Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf that was just across a small side street. “Dude? Dave, are you listening?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Dave threw on his sunglasses and waited for a car to pass before jogging across the street.

“I thought you’d be excited about this,” Taylor ran to keep up, grabbing his arm to stop him when they reached the other side of the street.

Dave sighed heavily and raked his hair off of his face, hoping he wasn’t misreading the situation, “Who did Ally ask?”

“Fuck, I don’t know. She just said some woman in her early thirties, that was healthy and was already a mom,” he repeated, “I don’t know her name yet.”

Dave waited patiently for the wheels in Taylor’s head to finally reach their destination, giving him an annoyed look when the realization finally hit him.

“Oh shit,” Taylor whispered.

“Uh, yeah,” Dave crossed his arms and turned his face to the sun, momentarily thinking it would be a perfect day to take the bike out.

“Well, did she say yes?” Taylor’s voice knocked Dave back into the present.

“I don’t think Ally really even asked her, dude. I think she just planted the ‘fertility issues’ seed and hoped it would make Liz think about it.”

“But I mean… would she? Do you think Liz would be down for that?” Taylor asked, his voice weak.

Dave turned on his heel and stalked into the coffee shop, unable to deal with all of this on just a couple hours of sleep. Taylor ran after him, hopping around a group of teenagers that were blocking the entrance and stood awkwardly next to him in line, “Sorry, man. We’re just in a jam, you know?”

“So you want to knock up my girlfriend?” Dave froze, still staring at the chalkboard menu hanging over the counter. Girlfriend was a foreign, distant word, but it fit the bill with Liz.

“You’ve only known her two weeks!” Taylor cried.

“What does that have to do with you wanting to put a human, your kid, in my girlfriend’s uterus?” They both realized that their voices were rising and that the entire coffee shop, though small, was staring at them. The girl behind the counter wearing a khaki apron and terrified stare cleared her throat and forced a smile to greet them.

“Liz…” Dave set their coffees on her makeup table and went to find her among all the blankets in her bed.

“No,” her voice was muffled through all the linens.

“Get up,” he laughed, already feeling better now that he was alone with her again.

She threw a pile of blankets off her face and smiled up at him, “Or you could get down…” her eyes lit up and she gasped, “Oh that’s where that came from!”

He grinned at her innocent revelation and jumped into the bed next to her, pulling back the rest of the covers to reveal that she still hadn’t gotten up to get dressed yet.

“Why did you even put on clothes?” she teased.

“Because I left to get you coffee!” he pointed to the table as she pulled his shirt off.

“Oh! Thanks!” she started to crawl down the bed, but he yanked her back into the sheets.

“You’re always trying to get away from me, Elizabeth. Why is that?” he smiled down at her as she avoided his stare by undoing his jeans.

“Because if you bring me back, I know you actually want me?” she hesitated a moment. She hadn’t meant for it to sound so heavy, but the mood between them instantly changed. “Sorry… I made it weird, didn’t I?”

“Liz,” he held her wrists still so she would listen, “I flew to the wilds of Oregon and drove over a fucking mountain range in a tin can with Krist just to get to you. What about that makes you think I don’t want you?”

“Okay, but that was last week, so…,” Liz smiled, hoping to relieve the tension a little.

He smiled back at her and released her wrists to kiss her when Taylor pounded on the wall next to them.

“We’re leaving! See you at our house in a bit!”

“A fucking text would have been nice, but thanks T,” Dave yelled back.

Dave and Liz decided to give Taylor and Ally a generous head start, opting to stay in bed, order room service and watch terrible daytime television together. When it was finally time to leave, Liz quickly gathered up her things into her overnight bag and left it with Travis, promising to meet him at the airport by six.

“Is this your fancy ass car?” Liz stopped short behind a low slung Tesla as its tail lights blinked in response to Dave unlocking the doors.

“What, did you think I was going to haul you around in the minivan?” he pulled open the passenger door and waited for her to get in. “I had it dropped off last night just to impress you,” he teased.

“No, it’s... it’s cute,” she said, knowing full well the last thing any man wanted their car to be was ‘cute’. She hopped into the car, immediately folding her hands in her lap and wondering if she should even put her well loved skate shoes on the carpet. The car was pristine and smelled strangely of strawberry chapstick as Sonic Youth played quietly from the stereo.

“It’s this fucking thing,” Dave answered her unasked question when he started the car, flicking the Motorhead air freshener hung from the rear view mirror. “He would have used it as target practice if he knew it smelled like a fucking popsicle.”

Liz smiled at the thought of a pissed off Lemmy opening fire on an innocent air freshener. “Maybe it was too hard to capture the smell of Jack and Coke?”

Dave watched her slide her sunglasses on and settle back into her seat. “He would have loved you,” he finally said, backing the car out of its spot.

Liz laughed a little, “Funny story about that…”

“Oh, Christ. You didn’t fuck him, did you?” Dave asked, only a little serious. Some of the stories he had heard were wild enough to make him uncomfortable, and he had seen some crazy things over the past thirty years.

“No, I think I have the only wholesome backstage Lemmy story in existence. My dad and I bailed on an elementary school father-daughter dance to go to a Motorhead show and somehow ended up backstage in all our finery. I’m pretty sure my mom still thinks we went to the dance.”

“Was that your first concert?” Dave asked, trying to focus on driving through LA traffic and wrap his brain around what Liz was telling him at the same time.

“No, that’s…,” she laughed a little, “that was an entirely different shit show. Anyways, Lemmy saw us watching the opener and thought it was the best thing ever, me in my pink dress and my dad in his suit and was just the sweetest to us. He spent fifteen minutes trying to find me a drink that didn’t have alcohol in it.”

“Tap water?”

“Yep. Probably from a hose outside,” she giggled.

“Okay so what was your first concert?” he asked as they waited at a light to merge onto the freeway.

“Pantera,” she said quickly, “Are you gonna show me what this rocket ship can do or are we gonna go the speed limit the whole way?”

Dave kept his eyes on the traffic light, waiting impatiently for it to turn green before he stomped on the gas and Liz was thrown back into her seat with a yelp. “How’s that for cute?” he laughed.

Dave heard his phone begin to ring and volleyed the ping pong ball back at Taylor so hard that it bounced off the table and disappeared into a stack of drum equipment Taylor had stored in the corner of his garage.

“Point, fucker!” he yelled and answered the call.

“David,” his mother’s stern voice could still make him flinch.

“Yeah, Mom?”

“I’m looking at my email and it says here you have a girlfriend.”

Dave gave an exaggerated sigh and turned away from Taylor as he began tossing his ping pong paddle up in the air. “How many times do I need to ask you to turn off the Google alerts for my name?”

“I’m just checking up on my only son, darling. Now stop hedging and tell me who she is.”

Dave considered his next move carefully while he walked out onto Taylor’s driveway, “She’s an actress.”

“Yes I know that, David. How did you meet her?”

“If you already know who she is, why are you asking me?” he instinctively wanted to apologize for sassing her, “McCartney introduced us.”

“Ah. Well, I suppose if he vouches for her…” she scoffed.

“Mom...” Dave sighed. He knew she was joking, but the conversation was still painful.

“No, David. It’s absolutely fine that you don’t tell me anything about your life anymore.”

“Mom!”

She finally laughed and Dave could hear her laptop closing followed by the familiar squeak of her favorite chair, “Are you happy?”

He thought for a moment, turning to watch Liz laugh with Ally on the front porch of the Hawkin’s house. “Yeah Mom, I am.”

“That’s good, dear,” he could hear the smile in her voice. “Because I’ve seen her boobs and they’re spectacular.”

Dave’s mouth dropped open in shock, “What?”

“In her movie, David. The one about the Russian Princess?” her laugh rang through the phone. “Don’t tell me you haven’t seen her work.”

“I must have missed that one,” he muttered.

“As long as you’re happy, darling.”

“She’s... she’s pretty great,” he said, smiling at Liz as she waved to him from the front porch.

“I’ll expect my dinner invitation to meet her soon, David. Love you.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

He listened to her laugh as she ended the call.

“Thanks for feeding me,” Liz hugged Ally while Dave and Taylor discussed the best way around the LAX traffic.

“You’re always welcome here, Liz!” Ally said, “Taylor and I are headed to London a week early for our anniversary, we should try to meet up for drinks!”

“Oh, I would love that!” Liz cried. She was leaving in a few weeks for England and the only person she knew on this film was Johnny, but she wasn’t about to spend all her free time with him, so the prospect of friends was encouraging.

“You know,” Ally began, but paused to think for a moment, “I was wondering…” The air around them suddenly went still as Taylor and Dave abruptly ceased their conversation to listen to Ally. “I was wondering what you think of pregnancy? Like, if you enjoyed it.”

“Allison…,” Taylor warned.

Liz looked between the two, startled by Ally’s question and the look on Taylor’s face. “Um…,” her eyes landed on Dave, who was glaring harshly at Ally.

“Look, Liz,” Taylor quickly stepped towards them, “Just to kill the awkwardness here because this is not a good time to be asking,” he gave Ally a pointed look which she ignored, “but Ally and I were wondering if maybe you’d be open to-“

“Oh my fucking god,” Dave said under his breath and stormed past them to his car. Taylor and Liz watched him go while Ally stared down at her hands.

“What… is happening?” Liz asked, completely bewildered by the sudden change in everyone.

“We were wondering if you’d be open to being a surrogate… for us,” Taylor finally said and a heavy silence hung over them as Liz absorbed his words. “It wouldn’t be right away, but within like the next couple years,” he added quickly.

Liz snapped her jaw shut when she realized it was hanging open, “I… um… I really would have to…”

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but we just really wanted someone that we like and you kinda check all the boxes,” Ally said gently.

“That’s good to hear,” Liz said, more worried about Dave’s reaction than anything else at the moment, “but I’m going to need some time to think about it.”

“Of course,” Ally nodded.

“I should go check on him,” Liz said quietly, pointing over her shoulder towards Dave’s car, “Thanks again for dinner.” The moment she shut the car door behind her, Dave threw the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway. Liz caught a glimpse of Taylor scolding Ally before the car raced down the street.

“Well…,” she looked over at Dave, noticing his knuckles were white on the steering wheel, “That was weird. Are you okay?”

“Yep,” he answered, sarcastically emphasizing the ‘p’.

“I thought for a moment they were going to ask us to wife swap,” she buckled her seat belt and offered a little laugh, hating how much tension hung between them when she was about to leave for several weeks.

“That probably would have gone over better than them asking to knock you up.”

“So, I’m just going to go out on a limb here and guess that you aren’t okay with this?”

Dave snapped his head towards her so fast that his hair caught on his sunglasses, “You agreed?”

“No!” Liz cried, “I said I needed time to think about it!”

“So you’re going to agree,” he muttered, turning away from her again.

“It’s been less than five minutes, Dave. Give me a little credit.”

The car rolled to a stop at an intersection and he sighed, “It’s just… I finally find someone that I really like and Taylor wants to fucking put a baby in her.”

Liz couldn’t help but laugh at that. She started with a stifled giggle that soon turned into her laughing so hard that she had to wipe away tears.

“I’m so glad you find this funny,” Dave grumbled.

“Oh, come on. You have to admit this is a whole new level of bizarre,” she giggled.

Dave sighed again, distracted by oncoming traffic as he tried to make a left hand turn, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure my best friend asking to borrow my girlfriend’s uterus for nine months is about as bizarre as it gets.”

“He said it would be in the next couple years. It’s not like it’ll happen tomorrow,” now Liz was completely reeling. First she’s being asked to carry a child for another family, then Dave starts admitting he has heavy feelings for her and now he’s calling her his girlfriend? “If you don’t want me to, I won’t,” she said. Ally and Taylor could find another surrogate, maybe she could even help them look for one.

“I don’t want you to,” he said firmly, “And I think it was a dick move to ask you in that way, so I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Liz sat forward a little to see his face better, “Ally and Taylor really want another baby and that makes people weird, you know? Desperation makes good people do dumb shit. Please don’t be mad at them.”

She watched him as he processed her words then sat back in her seat when he didn’t reply. A few more moments passed before he reached out to flip on the stereo and rest his hand on her thigh as The Replacements ‘Little Mascara’ blared around them.

“Dave…,” Liz’s laugh echoed off the parking garage as Dave held her tighter.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to you faking your death and hiding out in my basement until the world forgot your name,” he said quietly into her hair.

“That’s so romantic and not at all creepy,” she said sarcastically.

“It’ll be great! I’ll throw some crackers and string cheese down the stairs for you at least a couple times a day. We’ll work out a system,” he pulled back to look at her.

“You really do want to wear my skin to your birthday party!”

“Yeah, but it’s yours until January,” his smile faded when Travis appeared at the elevators behind them. “Do I really have to let you go?”

Liz searched his face for a moment, “Yes, but maybe I’ll find time to see you in England? Maybe some miracle will happen and I’ll get a weird day off and come see a show.” She wasn’t sure what her schedule was yet, but from what she heard of the director of the film, she wouldn’t be getting any days off.

“Promise?” he knew he was being possessive and whiny, but he couldn’t help it around her.

“I promise,” she whispered, resolving to make the time to see him if she wasn’t given it.

“Liz, we have to go!” Travis called.

She dropped her arms from Dave’s shoulders and wiggled out of his grasp, “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

He nodded and turned back to his car, unable to watch her walk away from him. Just as he hit the unlock button, Liz called his name.

She had stopped a few feet away and grinned at him, “I want my airport hello.”

He dropped his keys on the concrete as she ran towards him, launching herself into his arms just as she had done the morning before. He turned and pinned her against the side of his car as if the harder he kissed her, the more time would slow down.

“I’m gonna miss you so fucking much,” he whispered.

Liz slid off of him, but pulled him back for another kiss. “You called me your girlfriend earlier,” she said, feeling Dave hold her a bit tighter.

“Did I?” he feigned confusion, “I don’t recall…”

Liz kissed him again and hugged him tightly, burying her face into his neck. “I already miss you,” she smiled sadly before pulling away and jogging to meet Travis.

#dave grohl fanfiction #dave grohl fanfic #dave grohl fiction #thatbluegibson

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team-mtal · 6 years

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Two Questions, One Answer

By Elfcow for @team-mtal/@discorded-psychicemotions

Red leaves fell in endless spirals, scribbling out hasty messages in a script too long and slow for mortals to you. Viridian Amidala passed through the crimson partition, a grin breaking out on her face. The noble trees of Forever Fall watched sternly as she traipsed through the grove, a bright burst of green amidst all the reds and yellows. She knew the forest stretched out for hundreds of kilometers, but the canopy just felt so cozy overhead! With every step she felt the forest cradling her, the leaves underfoot softening her every step, the wind’s slender fingers sliding through her hair. And on the wind rode the faintest of notes; sounds that were not native to these woods, sounds not born from beast or Grimm. Deep within a sea of red Viridian heard music, and she knew she had found her quarry.

“Not, you know, the pile of rocks kind of quarry,” Viridian said, to no one in particular. “Well, it’s a hole in rock, really, but nevermind! I mean the kind of quarry that you hunt.” The looming trees frowned at her, their crimson foreheads crinkling. “It’s a friendly kind of hunting! ‘Cause that’s what she is. A friend.” Viridian adjusted her belt, feeling a heat in her cheeks. “That’s all she is. A really good friend. Even though we haven’t talked since the dance, and it’s been like a whole week. So I’m going to talk to her if have to tie her down for it. Well, you know, not like that, but you know.” She patted Navitas where it hung from her belt three times for good luck and pressed on. The music grew louder.

Viridian came to the edge of a small clearing and stopped. There she was, sitting in the fork of a great tree’s limb, utterly unaware of Viridian’s presence. Corax Branwen. Also known as the the most absolutely, positively stunning drop-dead beautiful Huntress-in-training in the entire world who was definitely worth getting lost in a Grimm-infested forest for, but Corax was shorter, so hey. Corax curled against the trunk of her tree, her wings hanging dark and lustrous around her. Everything about her was black and red; red shirt, black jacket, red glasses, black boots, red eyes, black hair. Misericordiam, her double-ended scythe, lay heavy and black on her back. Even her guitar was blood-red. Corax cradled the instrument to her with a fearsome tenderness, her calloused fingers wringing pure melancholy from the strings. The music reached Viridian in her hiding place, brushed aside her every defense like autumn leaves, piercing to that deep and secret place inside of her where no words were needed. Tears welled in Viridian’s eyes, but then Corax changed chords and the moment passed. Viridian wiped her eyes and took a step forward, but paused. She had planned to jump up to her friend right away, but something told her to wait.

Corax teased one mournful note from her guitar, and she began to sing.

Her words aching, haunting. They raised goosebumps on Viridian’s arms and kindled a fire in her bones. Corax was singing so softly that Viridian had to strain to hear the words, but still she felt the intensity of longing the resonated in between the words. She felt weightless, as though she might drift out of her skin at any moment. The passion in Corax’s voice struck her, and she shivered.

Corax missed a note, her fingers fumbling to recover, and she stopped, her freckled face creasing with frustration. The spell was broken. And as cute as Corax’s expression was, this was the perfect chance to hop in.

“Hey, Corey!” Viridian popped out into the clearing. “Who are you singing about?”

“AAAH!” Corax sprang right off of the branch, her wings flaring, her arms flailing in surprise, her cheeks shot full of scarlet. Corax’s wings kept her aloft, but her guitar was tumbling, spinning, falling towards the ground. Viridian shot out her hand, her hair stirring as her power surged within her. The guitar jerked to a halt a meter from the ground, before floating lazily back up, freed from the embrace of gravity.

“Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry!” Viridian said. She focused her Semblance, gripping invisible strings of gravity to lift the guitar gently towards to its owner. Corax settled back on the branch, her wings folding in as she snatched her guitar to her chest.

“Don’t do that!” Corax said.

Viridian giggled, then clapped her hand to her mouth, which only made her laugh harder.

“It’s not funny. You scared the daylights out of me! You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”

Viridian tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I’m not exactly the stealthiest person, you know.”

“Stealthy, no. Sneaky, yes.”

“I’ll take that.” Viridian flashed a cheeky grin at Corax. “Your song is beautiful! Who is it about?”

Corax bit her lip. “It wasn’t that good.”

“Oh come on, that was magical. It made me feel like I was floating.”

Corax blushed and pushed her glasses up her nose. “That’s very kind of you.” Her eyes darted away. “But it’s not for anyone yet. It’s not even finished.”

“I can tell when you’re lying, you know.” Viridian crossed her arms. “You always look up and to the left when you do it.”

Worry flashed in Corax’s face. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s ok!” Viridian raised her hands, the fearful voices in her head subsiding at the care in Corax’s voice. “I just loved your song, and I wanted to know more about it.”

Corax smiled, and Viridian melted a little at the warmth in those burning red eyes. Corax leaned back against the trunk and strummed a bold chord.

“I’ll tell you who—what the song’s about, if you answer my question. What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to you! We haven’t talked since…well, we haven’t talked! You and I, we’re best friends, it’s ridiculous that we haven’t talked, or done friend things…” Viridian decided to stop talking while she was still ahead.

“And that’s the only reason you came? Nothing else?”

“I…” Viridian stamped her foot. “That’s not fair! You know I can’t lie!” Was Corax smirking at her?

“Well, I guess you’ll have to meet me halfway if you want to learn about my song.” Corax shrugged at Viridian’s outrage and leaned back against the tree trunk, her one boot propped against the bark somehow making her stance immeasurably cooler. “A question for a question, that’s how it goes.”

“Or…” Viridian unclipped Navitas from her belt, twirling the silver hilt in her fingers. “We could settle whose question gets answered the old-fashioned way.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“C’mon, it will be fun! You, me, some life or death stakes.”

“And the inevitable Grimm that show up.”

“Yeah! You in?”

“Oh, absolutely not,” Corax turned and stretched nonchalantly, confidence radiating from every line of her body. Corax looked relaxed, but Viridian knew better; she could see the tension in Corax’s muscles, the hair-trigger readiness in the quivering of her feathers. Corax hung her guitar on a nearby branch and turned, her knees bending ever so slightly. “I guess you’re just doomed to be disappointed, V.”

Viridian braced herself, her thumb tense on the trigger. “What a shame, I was looking FORWARD TO IT!” She leapt mid-sentence, blasting off in a shower of leaves at a speed only a Huntress could attain. She thumbed the trigger, and with a snap-hiss Navitas ignited. She swung, but Corax slid away in a blur as a pale green blade scorched the air where Corax had existed only a moment prior.

Corax skidded to a halt further out on the tree limb, her wings flaring for balance. smirking as Viridian struggled to regain her footing. Viridian severed the branch with a shower of sparks, forcing Corax to fling herself backwards and land in another tree.

“You can’t win if you can’t catch me.”

“And you can’t win if you won’t stand and fight!” Viridian closed the distance in a bound, her energy sword plunging into the tree’s heart as Corax sprang away. Viridian hollered and gave chase, her heart thundering in her ears.

Corax bounced from tree to tree like a ping pong ball, Viridian following as though yanked on the end of a string. Corax hit each tree trunk the same way, boot-boot hand, one-two pap, the model of smooth efficiency. Viridian landed and launched off of each tree with one foot, drawing deep on her Aura to power through each step. Tunnel vision crept in as Viridian passed over, under, through branches, Corax’s black outline and red streaks becoming her entire world. Viridian twirled Navitas, cutting bright green slashes through the world, slicing branches out of her way. She focused on Corax’s bobbing black ponytail, drawing closer with every leap.

Soon Navitas’ fiery tongue was nicking Corax’s heels with every swiped, and there was an added desperation in every jump. Corax lunged into open space, her wings unfurling, propelling her forward. She kept them tight to avoid snaring branches; at its full extension, her wingspan was wider than Viridian and Corax lying end to end. But even constrained, the beating of her wings shook the forest, and propelled her at a speed Viridian could never attain.

Viridian gasped, struggling even to keep Corax in sight now. How could she possibly ground her? Oh! Of course! She thrust out her hand, tugging at the strings of reality. Viridian reached deep, deep within herself, where words did not exist, and focused her Semblance like she never had before.

Gravity pulled heavier on Corax’s body, only a fraction more than normal, and only for a moment, but that fraction was enough. Corax dipped ever so slightly, and smashed face first through a tree limb, shattering it. She smashed into the ground and dug a furrow into the soil, her Aura flaring an angry scarlet at the indignity of it all. Viridian skidded to a stop before Corax in a shower of leaves, her blade buzzing excitedly.

“Ready to stand and fight, Craven Branwen?” Viridian had only a moment to laugh at her own joke before Corax interrupted her. Specifically, Corax’s boot interrupted her. Right in the face.

Viridian slammed back-first into a tree trunk before falling to her feet. Her Aura fizzled to match her blade for a moment before clearing.

“Ok, I kinda deserved that one.”

“Yeah, you did.” Corax settled into a stance, her hands loose and fluid in front of her. For a moment Viridian was worried that Corax was actually mad, but there was that secret smile again, twisting the corner of Corax’s mouth. Viridian grinned, and charged.

She drove at Corax, thrusting her blade like flashes of lightning, spinning and stabbing backwards and overhead for extra reach. Corax kept her spine straight and spiraled her upper body as she backpedaled, flowing around Viridian’s blade like water. Corax reached up and unclasped her double-ended scythe from her back as she ducked under the energy beam, using her body’s own momentum to spin the fearsome weapon. Corax twirled her scythe around her chest and neck, deflecting Viridian’s attacks in a whirlwind of black steel.

Viridian actually took a step back for the first time, struggling to keep the biting scythe blades at bay. Sweat glistened on her arms and her breath rasped in in her throat as now she was driven back.

Corax uncoupled her scythes, letting them swing on chains that she looped around her arms and hands. She spun faster and faster, her blades wailing as they cut the air, soon and Viridian found herself in a hurricane of steel.

There was no fighting back. She could only duck, dodge, jump, back handspring, chest to floor and back to feet again as the blades shrieked by. Viridian shut off her weapon, bobbing and weaving and flipping on instinct to escape the dervish. She had to go either in or out, or risk getting hit. A scythe took a chunk of her hair as it hurtled by, practically kissing her cheek. Out it was, then.

Viridian staggered backwards, still dodging, moving towards the edge of the clearing. Corax let more length into the chains, filling the entire clearing with her attack. Viridian contorted herself to pass over one scythe and bounced into one last back handspring over the other blade, landing at the edge of the clearing. On its next pass the scythe blade bit deep into a red tree with a solid thunk, passing mere millimeters in front of Viridian’s nose. The other scythe struck a tree on the opposite side of the clearing chain-first, wrapping around the trunk with terrifying velocity before embedding itself in the wood.

Corax tugged on the chains, but her own technique had been too powerful; her blades were bound, and there she sat, helplessly between them.

“Oh.” Whatever Corax was going to say next was lost; Viridian blasted her right out of the clearing with a flying double kick. Yet another storm of leaves and yet another furrow marked where the patented Amidala Two-Boot delivery system had sent her.

Corax lay sprawled in the leaves, her wings twisted awkwardly beneath her and her hair a leaf-filled mess. And somehow, still absolutely stunning. Viridian didn’t understand it. Corax tried to push herself to her feet, but Viridian was already there. Snap-hiss and Navitas sprung to life, its burning tip at Corax’s nose.

“Yield, O noble Huntress.” Viridian chuckled at her own joke, her sword wavering slightly. Corax’s eyes surged with a deeper flame, a flash of terrifying will shining through. That was all the warning that Viridian got. Corax slapped the blade away with her forearm, crimson ripples dispersing the energy across her body. Before Viridian could breathe strong hands had seized her wrist and collar, and there was a boot somewhere, her stomach maybe, and the world was turning over and over like a dropped snowglobe, until everything righted itself she slammed onto her back, with Corax firmly on top.

Corax moved into a straddle, pinning Viridian’s wrists to the ground with practiced ease. Her wings flared overhead like a raptor claiming its prey. Corax’s glasses lay askew, her hair was completely out of its ponytail, and the remnants of battle still tightened her face into fierce beauty. Viridian felt her breath leave her, which was completely unfair considering she was still winded from the fight.

“It looks like it is you must yield.” Corax leaned in, her hair draping over Viridian’s face. Viridian blushed with her entire body and broke eye contact, wishing she could disappear into the earth. Why must Corax always say things like that, when she would never follow through on it, when she would not even talk to her after what happened?

Corax finally let her go and sat up straight, sweeping her hair back and adjusting her glasses. Viridian decided to interpret this as permission to breath again. She gulped in air in a way that was not altogether cool, and in fact more closely resembled a fish trying to breath air.

Corax glanced down at Viridian. “Are you comfortable?”

“I mean, this wasn’t how I imagined being in this position, but—eeeep!” Viridian clapped her hand to her mouth, far, far too late. Corax only gave a throaty chuckle and shook out her hair, looking up at the sky in what must be disbelief. Viridian wondered if her Semblance was strong enough to push herself underground.

“So, do I get the answer to my question now?” Corax fluttered her wings. “Since I won?”

“Our Auras are both still intact. How about a draw? We both get our questions answered.”

“Fine. But you go first, since I’m on top.”

Viridian shook her head and focused. She could not mess this up. Not one bit.

“I came out here to talk to you—”

“You already said that—”

“—because you’ve been avoiding me.” For a moment there was stillness, and then a twittering as birds began to return to the clearing. “We were doing great. You and your team were hanging out with us, we were chatting on our scrolls every night, we were fine. And then, at the ball, we, we danced. You danced with me. And then you said you were going to get us punch, but you ducked out, and you haven’t talked to me at all since. At all.

“I don’t even know if something bad happened to you, or if it was something I said, or if you didn’t want to be friends anymore…because you wouldn’t talk to me. So I came out here not only because I was hurt, but because I care about you. And I want to know what’s going on.”

Corax was silent, and her lip quivered, her eyes soft. Was that sadness, pity? If it was pity Viridian just might die of embarrassment. She braced herself for the worst.

“Viridian, I am so, so sorry. I never meant to hurt your feelings. I just…”

Yep, here it comes.

“I needed time to find a way to express how I felt, even to me.”

Wait, what?

“You see, that dance made me feel something I’ve never felt before. I didn’t know how to handle it, so I left. I feel terrible about that now. I didn’t even think of what you must have thought. I just needed to understand.”

“Understand what?” Viridian could not, could not dare to hope…

“To understand how you made me feel.” That secret smile again. “I didn’t know what to do with myself, and I was too embarrassed to talk to you about it, so I did what I always do when I’m confused; I make music about it.”

“What…I, I don’t understand.” Viridian’s mind was racing, and her eyes kept darting back and forth between Corax’s, searching for some explanation. She couldn’t possibly…

“I am sorry for how I acted. But, I hope you will understand.”

“Please, help me understand.” Viridian’s heart pounded in her ears, her whole world shrinking down to Corax’s face.

“In short, I could tell you who my song is about.” The tiniest of smiles bloomed on Corax’s face. “Or I could show you.”

And there, sitting astride Viridian in a forest where it was always fall, always red, always trapped in the moment of the very spark of change, Corax looked her full in the eyes, and she began to sing.

“Oh.” And then, “OH.”

Then Viridian let the music take her, and bear her up, weightless, towards Corax’s waiting smile.

#rwby #rwby oc #secret santa #rwby oc secret santa #rwby secret santa #submission

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bigskydreaming · 7 years

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@jewneto

Okay this is too long for our asks back and forth so I’m just switching to regular posts lol. So picture this. Robbie Reyes/Sam Alexander, with guest appearances by Ms. Marvel and Amadeus Cho.

In this headcanon, Robbie and Amadeus are 17, Kamala and Sam are 16. Sam just tends to be assumed to be younger sometimes because of his personality and well, he’s really short.

And Robbie’s a solo hero, doesn’t really do the team thing, but he does do the group hang thing and its nice to have other teen heroes who can relate to the general fucked up weirdness of his life, so he’s been hanging out with Sam, Amadeus, Kamala, Miles, and assorted others like the occasional Young Avenger or X-Men student.

And Sam is crushing, like, HARD. Now normally he prides himself on being cool, suave, collected. He’s cocky and a smart-ass and he knows it. Its part of his charm. But around Robbie he trips over his words, trips over his feet, because c’mon....Robbie is just...he’s just COOL. He’s like, part demon or something, Sam’s not even sure, but having hellfire for a superpower is never not cool, and have you seen his car? Not to mention how hot he looks in his leather jacket but Sam doesn’t mention that. Like ever. Never ever ever.

He might, however, occasionally follow Robbie with long, lingering glances that are overseen by one Kamala Khan, professional meddler.

Robbie, for his part, is not entirely oblivious. I mean, he’s not usually the first to pick up on when someone’s crushing on him, but subtle is just really not in Sam’s wheelhouse. But he doesn’t say anything and figures Sam will get over it eventually, because we all know beneath his calm, collected exterior, Robbie is a giant bundle of insecurity and nerves.

So we have Sam. Crushing hopelessly, waaaaaay too embarrassed to articulate it, so instead he just mumbles one word answers and avoids eye contact when Robbie’s around. And we have Robbie. Very aware of why Sam avoids eye contact but waaaaaaaaaay too self conscious to like....point it out or bring it up because like, what would he even say? Nope. Nope. Not having that conversation. Too weird. Too lame. Not gonna happen.

But luckily for these two, we also have Kamala. Because occasionally, a world class meddler is just what the doctor ordered.

So Robbie, Sam, Amadeus and Kamala are all hanging out one Friday night after beating up some random bad guy or something. I don’t know. Plot is for losers. Anyway. Sam is playing video games, or trying to. Mostly he just keeps dying, a lot, because he is very distracted by his game partner, one Robbie Reyes. Who, unlike Sam, is crushing it at this game, even though he’s never played before, because when you’re hyper focused on a video game to avoid sidelong glances and the implications thereof, Zelda’s suddenly not so hard. At least Robbie thinks they’re playing Zelda. Whatever. His character has a sword.

Amadeus meanwhile is kicking back and entertaining himself by just being a douche, mostly. Who needs video games when you have Sam playing badly to mock instead. And Kamala, well, Kamala’s on her laptop, doing something that has her looking over at Sam and Robbie every five seconds, suppressing giggles, and in general trying to ACT like she’s being secretive about what she’s doing, when in fact she’s really trying to be super obvious until someone asks. Which Robbie finally does.

“What?” He grunts at her finally, supremely annoyed. He’s not stupid. He knows exactly what she’s doing, he even has a sinking suspicion WHY she’s doing it, but she’s shown no sign of letting up in the last hour and he just wants this over with.

“Oh its nothing,” Kamala tries to say. Robbie rolls his eyes. Changes his mind about engaging.

“Okay.” He leaves it at that. Smirks the tiniest of smirks when she narrows her eyes at his refusal to take her bait. She’s just so damn bubbly all the time, its fun when he can manage to get under her skin.

Back to silence for a few minutes, until Kamala finally speaks up again.

“Well, I don’t know that its nothing nothing. I’m just not sure I should say anything.”

“Then don’t,” Robbie mutters. He kills Sam again. Accidentally. They’re supposed to be on the same team he thinks? Whatever. Video games are stupid.

Kamala hesitates. He’s really not making this easy for her, but like I said. World class meddler. She powers through.

“I guess maybe you guys have a right to know,” she muses. Pondering artfully. And artificially. Robbie remains focused on the game. Amadeus is quiet for once, though mostly just because he senses the potential for mischief and is waiting on more specifics before capitalizing on the moment. Sam is just confused. He hasn’t really been paying attention to anything but Robbie. Umm, their game, that is. Robbie because he’s his partner in the game they’re playing. Or maybe his opponent? Crap, is that why he keeps dying?

“Well I’m sure you’d tell us if it was in our best interests,” Robbie deadpans. “It’s not like you gossip or anything, so it must be really important if you think we need to know.”

“You’re right,” Kamala says, somewhat testily. Or at least as testily as she’s really ever capable of being. It’s a new look for her. But these boys are being stupid, obstinate boys, so you know what? Yes, it IS in their best interests. They’ll thank her later. "So I’m on this fanfiction site, right? That’s mostly for fic about various heroes and vigilantes. Some villains. Mostly heroes though. Anyway. So guess who one of the most popular pairings right now is?”

Robbie narrows his eyes. Amadeus sits up, sensing blood in the water. Sam is not quite so oblivious - or fixated on Robbie in his leather jacket - that he doesn’t pick up on the tension ramping up in the room. His eyes bounce back and forth between Robbie and Kamala like a ping pong ball.

“I couldn’t even begin to guess,” Robbie says flatly. “Why don’t you tell us?”

“You,” Kamala says smugly, allowing herself to arch an eyebrow in smug satisfaction. Look, if he was going to make it this hard, she was allowed to milk the moment.

“Wait, who? Robbie?” Sam blurts out, instantly insanely jealous because what the fuck? Who is Robbie in a super popular pairing with? Umm, random internet strangers shipping his crush with some rando so was so not cool. “Robbie and who?”

“You,” Kamala repeats, her smugness somehow reaching all new elevations. Robbie’s glower intensifies proportionately.

Sam stops, shapes words with his lips, forgets them, tries again. A flurry of emotions kaleidoscoping across his face.

“Wait,” he says at last. “Me? You mean like, Robbie and me? Me and him?”

“Yup. You and Robbie. Nova and Ghost Rider. They’re calling your pairing Space Ghost.”

She doesn’t mention that she coined the ship name, back when she basically single handedly launched their ship with her multichapter epic meet cute a few weeks ago. That’s like....surplus information. Totally not the point.

“Say whaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?” Sam squeaks out in a high pitched voice several octaves above his usual. He tries to angle his head so he can see Robbie’s face and reactions out of the corner of his eye, without giving away that was what he was doing. It was less successful than he imagined it was. The super unconvincing laugh he accompanied it with didn’t really help sell ‘nonchalance’. “That’s....that’s so crazy. Like....who would even think that’d be a thing. I mean, that we’d be a thing. Not that like...I mean. Say whaaaaaat?”

“Why is our ship name Space Ghost? That’s stupid. Neither of have Space in our codename,” is all Robbie says though.

Kamala frowns. She was pretty sure that nitpicking the name she picked just to help them stop being stupid obstinate boys was like, super rude. Where was the gratitude?

“I don’t know,” she says. “Nova’s basically a space cop though, so there’s space in like, his hero identity. And it could be an homage to that old cartoon. That’s kinda clever, don’t you think?”

“No. I think its stupid. That’s not how ship names work.” Robbie says, crossing his arms and staring at her pointedly. Sam’s jaw has unhinged slightly as he watches the play by play because like.....Robbie’s not freaking out? Or remotely weirded out by the idea of him and...him? Instead he’s just....talking about their ship name? What is his life, what is even happening right now. Is he supposed to be breathing?

“I didn’t realize you were such an expert on shipping,” Kamala says, crossing her own arms.

“I hang out with you, don’t I? Kinda hard not to be after that.”

“So I suppose you have a better idea?”

“Yeah. Obviously our ship name should be Nova Ghost. Or Ghost Nova.”

“What about Nova Rider?” Amadeus speaks up suddenly from where he’s been watching the proceedings with avid delight. He emulates a cymbal crash with his hands. “Ba dum tush.”

Robbie redirects his glower from Kamala to Amadeus in one smooth, seamless motion. Sam really has to figure out how he pulls shit like that off. It’s so....badass. Does he practice in a mirror?

“You know what?” Robbie says, still in that monotone that says ‘you are dangerously close to shredding my patience and did you forget that I have hellfire’. “Yeah. I like that. Nova Rider. I think that’s a great ship name, thanks for your contribution Amadickus. What do you think Sam? You like Nova Rider for our ship name?”

“Umm. Yes?” Sam squeaks. He clears his throat. Tries again. He’s....somewhat closer to the baritone range this time. “I mean, yeah. Yeah I like that one, its cool. It’s....”

“Porny?” Amadeus supplies with a huge grin.

“Why are you breathing the same air as me right now,” Robbie says flatly. He and Amadeus are friends. Sometimes. Sort of. Other times, not so much. It’s complicated.

Amadeus opens his mouth to speak again, but Robbie cuts him off. Standing, turning to look down at Sam.

“I wanna go see a movie. You wanna come?”

“Umm. A movie? Like...right now? You and me?”

“Yeah,” Robbie shrugs, like its no big deal, oh so casual. Oh so cool. “She’s meddling. He’s being a douche. You...you’re not so bad, and I like popcorn. You like popcorn?”

“Umm, yeah. I mean, yeah!” Sam bounces to his feet, his head bobbing up and down like an animatronic bobblehead thingie...whatever, he’s excited. Shut up. “I love popcorn! So like. I mean. Is this just like a.....are we just going to a movie to hang, or like...”

“Yes Sam, its a date,” Robbie says, striding for the door with easy, confident strides. Sam’s heart swells. Who knew monosyllables could sound so romantic? He hurries after the other boy, jogging to keep up.

“That’s cool! I mean, I knew that, I mean, I didn’t know that, you know but ummmm.....oh hey, can I drive your car?”

He didn’t really mean that last part, it was more just something to say, to shut himself up. The babbling. So not hot. So not cool. Lame, Alexander, way to be lame. Robbie stops in the doorway. Swivels. Stares at him in what can only be described as calm, cool disbelief. Sam backs up.

“Right. So that’s a no. Got it.”

They head out the door, Sam doing his best not to skip because that’s really not the way to impress the fucking GHOST RIDER who he was going on a DATE WITH holy shit how was this his life. Robbie doing his best not to let his lips turn up ever so slightly in amusement at the shorter boy’s antics, because I mean. He had a reputation to uphold. He’s the fucking Ghost Rider.

He spins around just before the door can shut behind him, points at Kamala, pins her with a glare.

“Just so we’re clear, you should in no way, shape or form take this as vindication.”

“Too late,” Kamala chirps, clapping her hands excitedly. She has so many people to call. Viv, and Miles and oh oh, Billy and Teddy for sure, ooooh maybe they can double date, that would be so adorable. She barely notices when Robbie heaves an aggravated sigh, rolls his eyes, and slams the door behind him. His voice echoes from the other side of it.

“And change our fucking ship name!”

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its-lifestyle · 5 years

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Cats rule in our house, so when one of us humans has to be away, we work hard to make sure it doesn’t impact their cushy lifestyle. When I go for my annual trip home to see my mum, Tom reorganises his schedule and yet our furry divas act as though they’re suffering agonies of deprivation.

To amuse themselves, the little fiends plague him with all kinds of innovations. A trip or two ago, they convinced him to serve extra meals. This year, Target decided they needed a steady flow of homecooked chicken – and my hapless better half caved completely and delivered.

Despite being spoilt rotten, the cats greeted my return with happy purrs. Target sat on top of me and then he helped me unpack. Despite the chicken diet, my old boy wasn’t happy until he saw the suitcase put back in the cupboard.

Swooner demanded kisses and immediately asked for his Spanish cat treats. As for Tic Tac, she has grown an inch, filled out and she looks shiny healthy. She brought me her new ribbon and asked for kisses too, just like her brothers.

After all the excitement, Swooner sloped off to visit his friend Charlie across the street. I wasn’t surprised because Charlie and Swooner are close. In fact, their friendship deepened while I was away.

As the cats were shut in during office hours, a move to safeguard them, Swooner would go out as soon as Tom came home. It was a protest move and even the free flow of chicken didn’t completely make up for the hours of shut-in.

Swooner tells a good sob story because Charlie’s mum WhatsApped regularly with cute photos of Swooner romancing her for extra meals. At one point, I saw Swooner have dinner while Skyping home and, 10 minutes later, photos of him came in from our neighbour documenting our pet meowing pitifully about starvation.

I knew Swooner had been taking advantage but as he did the same last year, I expected matters to return to normal. They didn’t. A week after my return, Swooner was still spending most of his waking hours at Charlie’s.

I blamed myself, deciding that it was my fault because we adopted a kitten. Tic Tac is a sweetie but she does run wild and as she adores Swooner, she’s all over him all the time. The second he puts a paw in the door, she’s hanging around his neck, wanting to play.

Now with Target being 10 years older, Swooner wanted a friend. However, as I watched him interact with Tic Tac, I understood he had discovered that kittens are hard work.

Swooner doesn’t look pleased at all from being teased by Tic Tac the kitten. Photo: Ellen Whyte

Tic Tac is super bouncy every waking second. She climbs the sofa, the curtains and she runs up and down the stairs. It’s OK; that’s what kittens do. But Swooner is now a mature cat, young but grown up, and he’s not totally into kitten games anymore. Some human people are the same, so I do get it.

Yesterday morning, I tried to see the positive side. I reminded myself that Swooner was coming home for meals, for cuddles and to sleep at night. In fact, the night before, he was in bed with me, purring up a storm and demanding that I rub his tail and ears. Those are all signs that Swooner loves me.

But despite the pep talk, I wasn’t very happy. Then, while I was fretting, there was a growl outside. I opened the door and there was Swooner, growling at Charlie.

That’s pretty typical. Charlie generously allows Swooner into his territory but Swooner does not reciprocate.

Charlie is not allowed in our garden and he’s not allowed to talk to me for more than a minute.

So there was poor Charlie, just sitting on our doorstep, with Swooner growling and showing his hackles. When I went out to mediate, Charlie was visibly upset but not moving. The reason? A toddler out for a walk with grandma.

That little boy adores cats. As he is very gentle and brings treats, you’d think the cats would hail him with open paws. However, some other thing spooked Swooner, so he did the sensible thing and ran home. Then Charlie had followed his friend.

It was simple to sort out. I picked up Swooner and took him inside, at which Charlie went to see his small human friend. Seeing Charlie happily rolling on his back so he could get some quality petting, I left him to it and went to speak to my boy.

Swooner was sitting on the stairs with a grumpy look on his face. But when I picked him up, I got a head butt and a purr. Swooner saw the little boy handing out treats but he wanted to spend time with me. For half an hour, he sat on my lap, paddling his paws, butting me and running his purr at loud.

That bit of personal time has cheered me up and helped me get some perspective.

Swooner is spending a lot of time with Charlie and that’s OK. They’re being cats together, that’s all. It doesn’t mean Swooner loves me less. As for the meals, well, he’s having his cake and eating it. That’s standard cat behaviour.

For now, Swooner has a home with us, and a home away from home with Charlie. When Tic Tac is a little older and less bratty, Swooner will spend more time in his own house. I can also help foster their relationship.

So, I’m sending Charlie’s mum a thank you gift for being kind to my boy. I’m adding some treats for Charlie too. Lots of them because I’ve no doubt Swooner will be there, claiming he hasn’t seen any and is in desperate need.

If you have an energetic kitten, you can help it expend some of its energy by playing with it. Your older cats won’t want to play all the time whereas your kitten will. Photo: 123rf.com

How to help cats get along

Introducing a kitten into a home with older cats isn’t easy. Young cats have high energy levels and they’re not too hot about boundaries. Older cats, especially those who are elderly, sometimes don’t have the patience for it.

If that’s you, here are a few things you can do.

1 Institute personal time with your older cats. Your older pets are used to one-on-one time with you and it’s important they don’t feel neglected. So, set aside time when you sit and do the things you both like. For me and Target, it’s snuggling and having him on my desk while I work.

2 Be rigorous about separate bowls at mealtimes. Little cats will bounce from bowl to bowl and older pets will let them get away with it because they’re kind. However, it makes mealtimes stressful. So, feed the kitten by itself in a room and then have communal time afterwards.

3 Involve yourself in their play. Older cats will teach kitten the “rules” of playing, so don’t worry if there’s the occasional hiss or smack. However, your older cats won’t want to play all the time whereas your kitten will.

4 Take the pressure off by playing with your kitten. Ping pong balls, ribbons, feather toys – there are plenty of games that will keep you both amused. Also, don’t be surprised if the older pets join in sometimes!

5 Finally, be patient! It takes time to adjust. Also, cats aren’t human so sometimes they run purely on emotion. Relax, don’t push it too much and, if you’re stressed, talk to a sensible friend about it.

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literateape · 6 years

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American Shithole #21 — Jefferson Beauregard Sessions III: Feckless Runt

by Eric Wilson

"I’ve been doing this work for 25+ years, this is the worst thing I have ever seen." — ACLU Director

Who are we, America?

I knew our Attorney General was inhuman (I had him figured for half man, half Keebler Drow), but this chicken nugget-sized evil leprechaun has finally revealed the tesseract of horror that is his true multi-dimensional identity.

It’s like a fucking Hellraiser film all of a sudden, you know? One in which Pinhead is also a racist wood elf from Alabama.

“We’ll tear your family apart!”

"Also, try my cookies."

At least he’s finally tipped his hand as to why he’s been so willing to take golden toilet-loads of shit from Trump for so very fucking long: as everyone has figured out by now — it was so he could torture terrified brown children.

Yes fellow Americans, let’s just go ahead and continue to unpack the fact that our government ripped children out of the arms of parents — all at the behest of our Attorney General; all of whom are seeking asylum in our country.

Instead of implementing immigration policies that reflect a commitment to at least a base-level of human dignity, Sessions shredded the 5th and 8th amendments, and violated international law to boot by deliberately causing the suffering of children for political, financial and ideological gain.

Let’s sift through the rubble of our own ideals for a minute, as we ruminate on the dead father, Marco Antonio Muñoz, who killed himself last week while being held in detention. He was so distraught after being separated from his family; he could no longer go on living.

Let’s claw through the wreckage of the vehicle that rolled over several times, killing five of its occupants as they were chased at speeds upwards of 100 mph by Border Control this week.

And let’s take another hard look at the faces of those terrified children — the children Jefferson Beauregard Sessions ripped from the only safety they have ever known — and let's try to imagine the world they are struggling against defenseless, a world where they have experienced little other than hunger and despair. Their fragile hope for a better life snuffed out in an American cage.

I am sure, dear reader, you have heard the audio.

After we put a stop to this — and we will put a stop to this — we don’t get to celebrate much. (Author's Note: We put a stop to this, sort of. Maybe. It might be worse, unsure yet. It's probably worse.)

Congratulations America! Way to not (by official policy via the justice department) torture children anymore! That’s quite the bar we’ve set. I can see the slogan now…

America! We No Longer Torture Your Kids!

Somebody get on that, I smell a t-shirt.

I've let out quite a few sighs of exasperation in the last 96 hours. Let's take a look back at the last few days, shall we?

DHS Secretary Nielsen was rushed to the White House Monday evening for a 5:00 pm emergency meeting and press briefing. Expected by some to resign (she lied days earlier in her statement that there was no policy to separate children from their parents), she instead was clearly instructed to double down on the horrific situation, and place the blame squarely on congress for expecting DHS not to enforce the (imaginary) laws (congress) passed.

So she lied, again. There is no such law of the land that migrant children be separated from their parents. It is a policy laid forth by Jefferson Shitbag Beauregard Fuckface Sessions the Turd — two months ago.

I can’t believe she came out there on the dais of the White House Press Room, and doubled down on that policy. I was half-hoping at some point mid-briefing that she'd break down and say "fuck this, I can't do it," and walk off the stage. Instead she has to live with the guilt of that performance for the rest of her life.

Kirstjen Nielsen put on a good show, but she’s all angles and sharp edges, with a near constant whisper of discomfort troubling her visage — betraying her desperate desire to be anywhere else. The banner of law enforcement hangs heavy on her bony shoulders; like wet rags on a scarecrow.

She should have called in sick; her sacrifice netted her less than nothing. Two days later the president picked up his ball and went home.

Protesters descended on a popular D.C. eatery Tuesday evening, routing Nielsen from her intended meal with shouts of "shame!" What kind of food is served at the trendy Washington hot-spot, you ask? Mexican. I might've went with "we don't dine with Nazi swine," but "shame" works. Well done, D.C.

This event (and perhaps Corey Lewandowski mocking a little girl with Down Syndrome on live t.v.) might have forced the president to take action Wednesday — although terrible behavior from his minions has rarely moved him to action in the past.

Not that there isn't a laundry list of dark deeds to choose from.

This is quite the rogue's gallery of sadistic, spiteful, greedy whelps suckling away at the sour, sagging, man-teats of this presidency.

Top to bottom, this administration strains the definition of pathetic — and we as a nation are pitiful by proxy.

Pathetic and pitiful as we may be, we are not these monsters. Sessions’ soul is clearly now and forever a colostomy bag filled with the offal of child cruelty — let’s never let him forget that — but we are not these monsters. In reminding him, we will hopefully never forget how he has tainted us all.

He’s American Shithole’s Monster of the week.

Congratulations, Jeff. Tough company up there, but you pulled it off, tough guy.

Tough guy that hurts defenseless kids.

Everybody is blaming Trump, but you’re the worst fucking person in the world right now, Jeffery. Look out though, that was Kirstjen Nielsen clawing at your little elven booties.

Of course, Trump didn’t do anything to stop this horror show; not until he was forced to.

He blamed Democrats for a law that doesn’t exist, when all it takes is a google search to find Sessions announcing the new immigration policy several weeks ago.

Not that his base would bother fact-checking information gleaned from atop Mount Horseshit.

Then on Tuesday he likened these fragile human beings to an infestation.

Trump wasn’t taking cues from Sessions though — he hates Jeff almost as much as we all hate Jeff — no, it was our old friend Stephen Miller who was instrumental from the get-go in convincing Trump that separating children from their parents, resulting in irreparable emotional damage and incalculable physiological and psychological trauma, was somehow a quality policy change.

You all remember Stephen, don’t you? Senior Adviser to the President, and Sessions’ former longtime communications director? Ol’ Sporky? Yes, Mr. “Come Hither Face” was hot on the idea of torturing brown kids from the very beginning.

Still, this is Sessions’ baby; or perhaps it's Rosemary’s Baby. This is the prize he so coveted as he silently took all that presidential tweeting in stride. This is what he risked everything just shy of treason for — to hurt children — and, as I imagine we will soon discover, to get filthy rich.

I spent Monday evening watching various talking heads defend the policy. The usual suspects: Kelly Ann Conway, Steve Cortes, Rick Santorum, etc., and at around mid-Cuomo Prime Time (10:30 PST) I had reached my limit.

What struck hardest for me were the interviews in Red States — various patrons supping at the local Waffle House, diner, what-have-you — and to a one, they were all pissed that they were being made to "feel" something about those kids. That's what they talked about. They were mad about the empathy they were experiencing.

Where are we now, America?

I never imagined the mathematics of our situation to be so dire. There are some grim figures out there, some terrifying polls. Before the election, even well after inauguration, I never imagined the ugly numbers we would be facing on so many different fronts. For fuck’s sake, in a recent poll this week, the majority of republicans supported this immigration policy that treated toddlers like cannon fodder in an ideological war.

Everywhere I turn, if I am not lamenting polling numbers, I am waylaid by the financial gains that are always at the heart of this administration. In this case, it is the influx of wealth for anyone invested in private prisons, where the immigration policies have been a cash cow. For what it costs to house each separated child, they each could stay comfortably in a Trump hotel. That is quite a tidy profit that the private prison industry is reaping.

Beyond the numbers we have SNAFUs at home and abroad that are unprecedented. Untenable, in some cases, and this latest debacle along our border with our neighbor Mexico is certainly not helping anyone — except perhaps Sessions, and the rest of the soulless dirtbags vile enough to invest in private prison interests...

Globally, diplomatically, we now sail where the map is typically marked: Here Be Dragons. Never in the history of our country have we navigated such rough waters with both allies and enemies; we are alone, and adrift at sea.

Economically Trump is setting trade war fires in every country he can pick a fight with; in an obvious attempt to smokescreen the Russia investigation. He would drain our country’s coffers like a tub of dirty bathwater if it meant even a smidgeon of a chance at saving himself.

Morally? Well then... there is the elephant in the room. The cancer of the Trump supporters — blind to evidence, deaf to persuasion, dumb to suffering — these Bronze Age imbeciles are the impenetrable puzzle box. They are morally untethered to any sense of reality, and good ideas seem to harmlessly bounce off their oversized supraorbital frontal ridges like ping pong balls.

They are the black hole at the center of our collective American universe — devouring any conventional efforts to thwart their false god — stray too close with a handful of truth, and it’s drawn beyond the event horizon. Sucked into the nothingness, the emptiness reflected in their eyes.

Starved for victory, thirsty for even a droplet of purpose in dry country — they are still here; their numbers unchanged — rotting from the inside out, festering, baking in the hot sun all along the country roads of a nation that left them behind, long before they were ever born.

What do we do about the Americans that support this madness?

Stay loud as hell, it seems. In a rare turnabout Wednesday, Trump signed an executive order putting a halt to the egregious policy of separating children from their parents. It only took the entire world screaming bloody murder in his ear; we’ll take the win — although it doesn’t really feel, or look like one.

It's been a hell of a week. I don't know what this executive order will mean for families that have already been separated; no help at all would be my estimation. I am not familiar with the legal ramifications of imprisoning entire families together, either. I just know it seems ever-so-slightly less horrifically awful than the day before. It's a win, I guess, but it's clearly still a shit show.

Please get back to your unfinished business of destroying anything left standing in this country with any dignity remaining, Mr. President. Move along. Decent Americans will be busy cleaning up after this new low, the best they can.

Not you, Jeff, you horrible little shit. You’re still going to pay for this, motherfucker. America will not let you torture children and get away with it, you feckless runt.

You are nothing if not representative of Trump's base, I'll give you that.

Speaking of which, after the last couple of weeks we’ve had, I'd like to reiterate my stance on Trump supporters:

Whatever they sell, whatever services they provide, whatever occupation they may hold — don’t support them any longer.

Don’t hire them — ever again.

Someone else out there does what they do, or provides the services they provide; and that American isn’t a raging fucking hard-on that supports the torture of children seeking asylum. That American is not one of the quiet conservatives that know damn well how terribly fucking wrong this all is, yet they have remained silent since the beginning. You know who you are, you fucking cowards.

Those that would support the never-ending list of atrocities this administration keeps deep-fisting our country with don’t deserve our support in any way ever again.

To Hell with family and friends that would embrace this cold, cruel lie.

I know there are some liberals out there that have been hanging on to the idea that if progressives just get a little quieter, the problem will go away. I love you, but no, it won’t. You need to get angry, motivated, and involved.

Engage if you can, but at some point Trump supporters have to feel the pressure that only the stranglehold of an unfavorable market can deliver.

They certainly can't be allowed to successfully silence their most vocal critics. Rob Rogers, for example, is one of many who've lost their jobs expressing their disdain for this president.

If you don’t understand what America — Humanity — is facing from the Trump administration at this point, then your willful ignorance is an enabler of this slow-moving coup. I am not trying to offend you, but if you do understand, and yet can’t be bothered to buck up and attend to your civic duty, then you are a coward, and quite possibly a useless, lazy asshole.

I should know — I used to be all of those things.

Not a coward like the vast majority of Trump supporters, mind you — that propaganda-driven noxious herd of bovine shit-for-brains knows only fear; it is their only driving force, and they are desperate to convince the rest of us that anything other than that is true. Just as they are stalwart in believing anything other than the truth about this unholy administration.

No, you are not one of those cowards, but if you sit this one out, you are a coward just the same.

B.S. Report

The B.S. Report typically focuses on the causes of the brave young adults from Florida and their collective efforts to change gun laws in the USA, but I am fairly certain the Parkland survivors would want every American focused on the terrified, emotionally and physically traumatized, helpless children sitting in cages just north of our border, and elsewhere around our country. I regret not focusing on this crisis last week, or the week before when American Shithole barely mentioned what was going on down there.

Well, America?

Has this soul-destroying administration crossed the motherfucking Rubicon, or not?

(Author’s Note: I would like to offer my thanks to the Doctors and Staff at the hospitals and rehabilitation institutions that have provided my father with another Father’s Day; specifically, one where I had the opportunity to discuss my upcoming visit with the old man, tell him how much I love him, and to tell him about the book I sent him in hopes it would bring laughter — which in my humble opinion, is indeed at times the best medicine.)

Happy Father’s Day, dad. Fuck these fascist scumbags.

4LWjr.

#Jefferson Davis #Hellraiser #immigration #Kirstjen Nielsen #Stephen Miller

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