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hateswifi · 4 years

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Rising from the Ashes: Of Nicknames and Luck

So this is Part Five here is to my Master List and Part Four. Enjoy!! I just felt like... hey why not post two today? So that’s what I did, I hope you enjoy these shenanigans.

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Back with Marinette now in her hotel room, she decides to unpack a bit and look for an apartment offer online using the hand-me-down laptop Chloe had given her.

After about an hour, she decides to take a break from apartment hunting and go to the grocery store even though she couldn’t exactly cook anything from her hotel room. She could at least make some good sandwiches.

When she got to the grocery store and after she had collected everything she needed which included: bread, peanut butter, jelly, chicken, lettuce, tomato, and some chips she hadn’t heard of before. The cashier looked her up and down then asked. “Are you the Ice Prince's girlfriend?”

“I’m no one's girlfriend. You must be confusing me with someone else,” she said as she paid then left. On her walk home she heard a bing: someone said they would meet with her about renting an apartment. The person was the manager of a building owned by Wayne Enterprises. They said she would like to meet Marinette at one o'clock: two hours from now. She decided on a salad for lunch because she had something so sugary for breakfast. She still wanted to keep a somewhat healthy diet.

She sits down and decides to check out what Diana recommended last night. She Googles ‘Gotham's Heroes' results immediately came up with Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, and lastly a traffic light looking boy named, Robin. Seriously, who designed that outfit? If she ever met him she would have some words with him. She sighed while checking the time: twelve-thirty. She grabbed her stuff and left quickly.

“Hello my name is Marinette, I’m here to talk with,” she pauses, looking at her phone. “a Ms. Simms.”

“I’ll call her,” the receptionist said reaching then dialing on the phone. “Hello, Ms. Simms your one o’clock is here, Miss Marinette? Of course.” She hangs up then stands. “Please follow me.” They walk quietly into an office. She knocks on the door.

“Enter,” a voice says from inside. “Hello, Marinette. My name is Sarah Simms. Please come take a seat.”

“So I recently moved here and need an apartment. I already have a way to pay for it, I got a job on Monday,” Marinette said, sitting across from Sarah.

“Well want to visit the apartment?” Sarah asked, standing.

“That would be lovely,” Marinette says, following.

“So the last tenant left their stuff here which includes a fridge-freezer combo, a table, a couple of chairs, a couch, and two beds, one queen and one twin. They also left a smaller television,” she finishes, opening the door. The apartment was on the third floor with a decent view. “The rent would be six hundred a month and you would need to sign a year contract with a down payment of a hundred today.”

“This sounds almost too good to be true!” Marinette smiles after she finishes looking around the apartment she says. “Where can I sign?”

“Let’s head to my office and I’ll print the papers,” Sarah said, smiling as they left the apartment.

After the papers were signed and money was paid, Marinette left for the hotel grabbed her stuff and checked out. She smiles for the first time in quite a while she was happy and proud of herself.

She heard ringing as she dropped her stuff: it was Chloe. She immediately picked up. “Hey, Mar, how’s the second day of your new life,” Chloe asked, her voice crackling over the line a bit.

“It has been pretty good. I got up early and went to a park close to the hotel I was staying at. This dog tackled me and the dog’s owner felt bad, so he took me to breakfast. His name is Damian, I really hope to see him again… crap he ran off before I could get his number,” she pauses falling on the couch.

“Sounds like someone has a crush?” Chloe asks, Marinette can hear Chloe’s smirk through the phone.

“I only met him once. After that, I went grocery shopping. Also, I got an apartment! Most of it is already furnished all I have to buy some basic things like pots, pans, plates, utensils, towels, and you know little things like that,” Marinette explained.

“That’s great Mar. I’m so happy for you!” Chloe said.

“How was your day going?” Marinette asked.

“I miss you a lot and life is quite boring without you. Lila was talking crap about you again,” Chloe answered.

“I don’t even care at this point, as long as we know the truth. She doesn’t affect me anymore,” Marinette explained.

“I know it just makes me angry knowing that her lies are so terrible,” Chloe sighed.

“I know I’m sorry I’m not there, but I couldn’t stay in Paris. There is too much trauma and no family left for me,” Marinette explained.

“Marinette I’m family. Luka, Adrien, and Kagami. We’re all your family! We all love and miss you!” Chloe exclaimed angrily, then hung up.

Marinette sighed and plopped on the couch then turned on the small tv that was just across from her. It was some celebrity news so she changed it and watched an English cartoon instead as she checked her Twitter feed, which is still based on Paris. Chat had given the announcement of her leaving Paris, along with an announcement of no longer endorsing the Ladyblog after a post of Lila being love rivals with Ryuko for Viperon. Chat also announced that the rest of the team would continue with patrols.

She hung out for the rest of the day making a list of things she needs to get. She would go to buy things after work tomorrow. She made herself a chicken, lettuce, and tomato sandwich. She then went to bed early so she could be on time for work which starts at seven.

When she woke up to her blaring alarm at six-twenty she put on a pink long-sleeved sweater, which she tucked into a black high waisted shirt with a belt. She paired her outfit with kitty black heels. She also put her hair up in princess bun.

She rushed to work and arrived on time. She greets Diana and put her purse in the back.

“Marinette in a little bit there will higher class customers in need of suits. I would appreciate it if you would measure them. They are as I said celebrities and like their privacy, please respect that,” Diana explains. Not long after Diana finished speaking a group of people walked in four of them to be exact.

“Welcome, Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim. Damian is not with you?” Diana asks as they entered the store.

“No, he had a class this morning,” Bruce informed Diana of the changed plans.

“But it is to my understanding that he also needed a suit,” Daina states.

“That is true, I was wondering if I could call in a favor,” he asks.

“Well, I can’t because I’m leaving to visit my family, but I’m sure I could ask my new employee, Marinette, to go take his measurements,” Diana said, looking for Marinette.

“I’m right here, Diana,” she says, exiting the back room. “I was grabbing the measuring tape, a notebook, and a pencil.”

“Oh my god! You’re Demon Spawn’s girlfriend!” Dick yells, running up to her.

“I’m no one's girlfriend,” Marinette says back then mutters in Mandarin. “Why does everyone keep asking that.”

Jason hears what she says and responds in Mandarin. “Because people saw you out--”. Dick elbowed him before he could finish not wanting to blow Damian’s secret. “We mistook you for someone else.”

“What was that for!” Jason exclaims.

“I’ll tell you later,” Dick mutters.

“Ok so now that's over, please take the boys to the back to take their measurements,” Diana said, pointing the boys to follow her. In the back, Dick stood on a platform so Marinette could measure him.

“So Marinette,” Dick started being cut off.

“I am pretty sure Diana didn’t say my name. How do you know me?” Marinette paused her measuring of Dick. “Would you be able to step down? I have to measure your shoulder blades.”

“I heard Diana say it,” Dick says as he stepped down. He felt her feather-light touch dance across his back as she measured him. She then stepped in front of him measuring his chest then arms.

“How old are you and how long have you been working here?” Tim asks, staring at the petite girl while she works.

“Ummm… today is my first day working here, but I am experienced in the fashion world. I don't want to talk about my past work because this is my new beginning and I turned eighteen about two months ago,” Marinette said, measuring her legs.

“We’re all about new beginnings, that's why Bruce adopted us,” Jason chimed in.

“They’re not pretentious like how I thought Americans would act,” Marinette mutters in French.

“Thanks, but we’re not like most Americans,” Dick responds, looking down at the now flustered girl.

“I’m sorry to assume. In Paris, most Americans are shown as fools or snobs. I’ve only met a couple before today. How many languages do you all speak?” Marinette asked, working faster while keeping her head down.

“We all speak, English, French, Mandarin, Spanish, and Italian, but our youngest brother also speaks Slavonic and Arabic,” Tim explained.

“Ok, you’re all down Ummm… I’m sorry I never caught your names,” She speaks softly while backing up to give Dick room.

“You don't know us?” Dick asked shocked.

“Diana said you guys were celebrities, but I don’t pay attention to famous people unless they’re from the fashion industry and I haven’t exactly caught up on American celebrities yet,” Marinette explained.

“Well I’m Jason Todd-Wayne, this is my younger brother Tim Drake-Wayne, and my oldest brother Dick Grayson-Wayne,” Jason said, pointing at each of them as he talked.

“Ok, which one of you wants to go next,” Marinette asked, looking between the younger two of the trio.

“He’ll go next,” Jason said, pushing Tim forward.

“So you said you’ve only met a couple of people we know a bunch of people would you be able to tell us who you met?” Tim asked.

“The first person I met Diana she is quite nice, I don’t know much about her though. The second person I met was a guy named Damian. His dog, Titus, tackled me, so I guess he felt bad, we met at the park across from where I was staying. He wanted to make it up to me by breakfast, which was so delicious. I had waffles! I met my landlord, Sarah Simms, she seems a bit distant, but I barely know her. Then I met you guys, your dad seems cold, but you guys are quite nice,” Marinette explains as she finishes up with Tim.

“Are you and Damian friends now? You sound quite fond of him,” Jason asks as he takes Tim’s place.

“He ran off to take a call or something as I was going to ask for his number, it’s truly a shame he was nice,” Marinette says then blushes and looks down. “And he was handsome not going to lie.”

“Aww someone has a crush?” Dick asks.

“I’ve only met him once, but if I ever met him again I would ask him out, he was so nice, so kind,” Marinette sighs, looking lost in thought.

“Are we sure she’s talking about the same person?” Tim asks in Italian. “She looks smitten by him.”

“We have to get them together! She would be so good for him,” Dick answers in Italian.

“Guys I’m pretty sure Damian doesn’t want us to interfere,” Jason responds, holding out his arms for her to measure.

“I’m all done. I’ll go call Diana to see what she wants me to do with the measurements,” Marinette says as she gets up and leaves.

“She’s perfect for him. Think he hasn’t dated or been open with anyone before maybe she could be a first,” Tim says still in Italian. “Also she’s adorable!”

“You guys decided to talk in Italian while she was working? She thought that you guys don’t like her and we’re going to have her be fired, but she may have been overthinking,” Bruce said, entering the measuring room.

“Damian was nice to that girl. She likes him. He likes her!” Dick exclaims, standing up.

“Well it’s a good thing she’s coming over tomorrow to take Damian’s measurements,” Bruce smirked.

“She is, what time?” Jason asked.

“You’re not to disturb them. If there’s a girl out there he won’t send off or a girl who won’t run to the hills, we have to at least try to set them up,” Bruce said.

After Marinette left the boys she went to give the measurements to Diana.

“Here you go,” Marinette said, cheerfully.

“Thank you. Also tomorrow there’s one more boy’s measurement to do. Bruce said he would pay extra if you go to the manor after the boutique's closing. Would you be able to take the boy’s measurements?” Diana asks taking the notepad.

“That will be easy, but would you be able to tell me the address?” Marinette asked, pulling out her phone ready to type the address.

“Bruce said he would send a car,” Diana informed Marinette. “May I have your address to give to him for his driver?”

“Yes, I live in Wayne Apartments, which is ironic because you know they’re the Waynes,” Marinette said, laughing.

“That’s so funny!” Dick said, pointing at Bruce. “You’re friends with us, the Waynes, and you live in a building he owns.”

“To be fair I’ve only been in America for three days and I already have a job and an apartment. I think that’s pretty good,” Marinette says, crossing her arms.

“I would also say pretty lucky, Spot,” Diana says as Marinette blushes.

"Bye Sunshine!" Dick calls as he goes to open the door.

“Thank you, guys! I guess I’ll see you tomorrow!” She waves to them as they leave. The rest of the day went by pretty smoothly, she designed a bit while there weren't any customers in the store.

Diana closes her shop around seven o’clock, her business is thriving. She goes home eats some food then grabs her money to buy the stuff on the list she made earlier. She left quickly and went to the closest store. She finished shopping and when she got home put the stuff away. She then took a shower and went to bed.

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Tag list (Open):

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#ml new life au #damianette #batfam #maribat #lila salt #ml salt fic #marinette x damian #ml x dc #wifiwrites #marinette x batfam #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne

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mojavehearts · 4 years

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Fallout 4 Companions react to Strong having a crush on Sole

(REQUESTED!!) (im cackling like a maniac already)

(I know I used this before but...This IS Sole and Strong)

some are them realising it and some are helping him come to the realisation (some of the reacts even work together as one!)

Cait:

Cait watched as Strong stomped back and forth in front of Soles house in Sanctuary, at 4 am, on a Sunday. ‘’Oi buddy! can ya quit yer stompin?’’ she whispers out angrily, putting out her cigarette onto the side of one of the small shacks sole built Strong grumbles under his breath which makes Cait come striding up ‘’what is your problem?!’’ she was trying her best to whisper at least ‘’Strong doesn’t know!’’ he roars back she covers her ears and sighs ‘’Listen big guy, people are tryin to sleep and they cant with you stompin around’’ Strong grumbles again and points at soles door ‘’Strong cant be without master’’ ‘’what you like a lost puppy or somethin’? yer supposed to be a big mean ol’ supermutant’’ Cait scoffs, now leaning against soles house ‘’NO Strong does not want to be, without master near him, makes Strong MAD!’’ Cait’s eyes widen and she backs away slowly ‘’good lord, you better talk to MacCready about that...’’

Curie:

‘’Ah monsieur Strong!’‘ Curie waves strong over in a chirpy tune ‘‘How have our experiments gone so far? any pain? some memories? violent tendencies more than usual?’‘ Curie had gotten some data from some ‘hospital’ of sorts from New Vegas and was testing the medication in does on Strong so far nothing was different of course Strong was already more ‘Put Together’ compared to many supermutants and it had been a very small dose, ‘‘No strong want stop, making head fuzzy! weak!’‘ Curie nods and checks her chart ‘‘When does this usually happen or is it all the time?’‘ Strong stomps his feet slightly ‘‘If Strong is near master it becomes fuzzy! want to stop! need to be strong and protect Master’‘ Curie stops writing down in her notes and freezes ‘‘Oh Mon dieu’‘

Codsworth:

Codsworth is what he calls ‘Smart for an old bot’ he knew from the get go, hes still full of old world ideals so he isn't to keen on it, considering supermutants are known as violent brutes as well, but he warmed up to Strong (well as much as one possibly could if they weren’t sole) and it became quite entertaining for him to watch over a cup of tea and a nice book (he makes the tea for show, sadly he cant drink it) as strong ‘somehow’ gets red when with Sole, it really makes Codsworth rethink many things

Danse:

Danse...Isn’t exactly a fan of supermutants in general, that's just the way he’s wired (haha get it...Ill go)

Strong would always try to size Danse up, whenever he would talk to Sole Strong would be there, either watching intensely with a violent glare or just interrupting whatever he could, so he went up to him and asked what his problem was, guessing it was because he used to be brotherhood and also because...Danse obviously wasn't a fan of him. Strong just stares him down and points a thick green finger to Danse’s chest poking it into him slightly ‘’Sole needs real man, not metal man’’ and walked off leaving Danse to be (the gif above)

Dogmeat:

You know that thing dogs do when they cover their eyes with their paws and or ears as well?...Yeah just that

Deacon:

One word nine letters Terrified

Deacon thought it was kinda cute at first when he would watch strong follow Sole around, in that scary sort of way...in that way where little girls sing ring around the rosy or your child stands beside your bed in the middle of the night and says nothing, but then he noticed things...different things, like how he would rarely let anyone else around Sole, and that one time where they went to the third rail and that person tried to hit on sole and he chucked a tantrum and set the third rail on fire and- OH MY GOD

Piper:

Piper was making her usual rounds around Diamond City, trying to question whoever she could about her new piece ‘’Mirelurks and their MireQuirks’’ when suddenly she saw strong browsing the general supplies store she was confused why he was here alone, things may have changed since Sole came into play but he might still get given a hard time, he scratches his chin and Piper moves closer to greet him ‘’Master friend, Strong need gift for Master, Master gave Strong milk of human kindness’’ Piper thought this was very normal in fact and did help him pick out something, but then he turned to her and said ‘’How do humans show ‘E fec tion’ ‘’ and she froze ‘’Oh wow buddy i’m not the one for that um...Maybe Nicky can help he was married once well- when he was- when he wasn't- wait was he him- yes of course- um - but its- well-’’ Strong had enough of her blubbering and scoffs already walking off to see valentine, Soles gift in hand. Piper breathes out and then in deeply but then starts laughing softly, it was kind of cute really, but she didn’t think Supermutants could feel ..Love?, Piper had already found a new, and better article idea. SCORE

Preston:

Preston sighs softly, wiping the sweat away from under his hat, taking it off to fan himself with it he noticed the ground rumbling slightly beneath him ‘’Strong that you?’’ Preston turns to the direction of the rumbles and places his hat back on, sure enough he was met with big green mean fighting machine, strong. ‘’You know master, what does master like, besides blood and fighting’’ Preston purses his lips in slight confusion an audible ‘huh’ leaving his throat ‘’Strong want say sorry for Third Rail on fire, Mack Ree Dee says I should show sorry with actions’’ Preston scratches the side of his face and stares at the ground for a minute ‘’why don't you go to diamond city? check out the stuff there I’m sure they would like anything from the surplus store’’ Strong grunts in agreement and stomps away again behind Strong stood MacCready with a tilted head and raised eyebrows Preston looks at him completely confused until MacCready takes his two fingers and draws a heart, Preston stands there dumbfounded his gun falling from his hands

Valentine:

It was a slow day for nick, seemed not many people needed help nowadays guess he had Sole to thank for this time off, but he was getting a bit restless with all this sitting around waiting for something, he felt kind of bad for wishing for things to happen but he was sick of the small ‘Lost my cat’ or ‘forgot where my nuka-cola truck was’ and sick of the fact all of those were deacon in different wigs, so when his door opened he was pretty excited he turns his head up quickly and is met with strong slowly trying to squeeze into the door, he struggled for a few minutes before sitting down, and then breaking the chair, but he still sat in place on top of the broken chair on the floor, nick chuckles and rubs at his temples why was the world against him ‘’Strong, great to see you...What do you need?’’ strong was quick to speak ‘’Paper send me but before that pwes ton and then before that mac ree dee and then before him irish lady, and now im here help strong now metal man!’’ nick rubs the lower part of his face and sighs ‘’so...Paper? sent you specifically?’’ strong nods with a grumble ‘’Alright..tell me what you need’’ it was better than seeing deacon in a long blonde wig talking in a high pitch voice about his cheating husband for 5 hours ‘’Strong been told to come to you because you were married and I need to know E fec tion’’ Nicks eyes widen slightly, the pupils whirrling vibrantly this had to be one of deacons tricks ‘’Affection? for whom’’ Strong slams a big green fist on the desk, breaking it, nick pretends the desk is still there for sanity sake and rests his arms in midair ‘’For Master! who else would be good enough for E fec tion’’ Nick could die at that moment ‘’Alright Deacon you can come out now’’ Strong roars angrily ‘’Bald man at settlement!’’ oh god so this was...Serious, nick takes a looooonnngggggg drag of a cigarette and sighs ‘’Alright...ill help ya’’

X6-88:

(petition for me to just use Raymond Holt gifs for X6 considering they are basically,,The same person like the personalities are spot on omg)

All of the companions where sharing their opinions/outlooks on Strongs growing affections on sole/if Sole would return them and all that, Hancock threw in a few sexual jokes (making everyone groan in different tones) while everyone else already knew X6 did not, and he found it obscene

‘‘x6, what do you think about it?’‘ Curie asks with her eyes full of curiosity, as always.

‘‘Absolutely...Not’‘

‘‘What do you mean ‘Absolutely not?’’ Piper asks with a joking scoff

‘‘it is ridiculous at best, there is no way’‘ the other companions sigh at him ‘‘hey it could be a real blossoming love my guy, they will have gorgeous half green babies’‘ Deacon says with a mouthful of carrot X6 looks at him in distaste and turns in his hair ‘‘X6! don't ignore us, stop being a grumpy pants you aren't in the institute anymore! love is real!’‘ Mac says excitedly X6 slowly turns his chair back and stares at him through his glasses

‘‘It might be, but not between sole and the supermutant, now before you complain, i am once again turning in my chair’‘

he will come around

MacCready:

‘’MACK REE DEE!’’Strong stomped up to Mac at INCREDIBLE speed ‘’whoa there strong! you could flatten me buddy’’ he chuckled but he was literally terrified for his life seeing strong run like that ‘’Loud lady says you can help me’’ strong says bluntly ‘’help with what?’’ now mac was interested ‘’I told her I didn’t want to be without Master and she tells me to see you little man’’ MacCready rubs his neck in confusion why would she send strong to him over nothing it was only natural that he would be if he considers Sole his Master ‘’After fire in Third Rail Master was upset at Strong, STRONG CANT STAND IT’’ Mac nodded slightly ‘’uh well...Sometimes a good ‘’hey I’m sorry’’ and some affection, maybe a hug and a gift can work?’’ strong seemed to like that idea ‘’I GO NOW’’ he roars ‘’whoa buddy wait! do you want me to tell Sole you’re leavin? I’m on my way to have dinner with her now’’ dinner!? Strong’s alarms went off in his head and he picks Mac up by his jacket snarling slightly ‘’Dinner?!’’ Maccready stares at strong, confused and terrified ‘’Um yeah...The thing people do to eat? she wanted Duncan and Shaun to meet formally? you were invited remember?’’ ‘’oh’’ strong slowly and gently (for a supermutant) and slightly dusts Mac off and turned away MacCready laughed softly at how strange he could be and then stopped dead in his tracks ‘’Wait what the fu- ‘’

Hancock:

Once the institute was defeated Hancock and Sole both came up with the idea to have a party for everyone at the third rail, all of good neighbour was decorated from top to bottom with funny decor, synth scraps, all of that (much to x6′s dislike, he still went) everything was fine and dandy, everyone was partying it up, Magnolia switched It up for the night and was singing some upbeat party tunes, and then some random stumbled up to Sole, Hancock watched for a distance he knew Sole could handle themselves so he just watched silently, it was chill and all until Strong war cried, threw the person into some lit candles which then got caught on a decoration and set it on fire and then in shock some people bumped into each other and started fighting AND THEN as everything was going to shit Sole had to jump up to Strong to avoid the fire as it pooled around them, the way strong held onto Sole, told him enough whether supermutants could feel that kinda thing or not wasn't his business. Putting out his cigarette he sighs and decides to help in the chaos as Deacon walked into the third rail ‘’ I BROUGHT PIZZ- aaaa???!’’

BONUS

Sole:

Sole was sitting at dinner with Mac, Duncan and Shaun and turned towards the empty spot they had reserved for Strong with a sigh. They just continue to smile and eat, until the door gets fireman kicked down (I cannot stop with that) and strong appears Sole stands up and strong walks towards them, a pretty sweet looking belt in hand he throws it at sole and they catch it ‘’is this for me strong? well thanks! I-’’ then Strong picks them up and awkwardly hugs them to his body sole struggles a little bit against him ‘’is this about the third rail? its alright strong I told you that I was just busy’’ Strong ‘’I’m trying to do human E fec tion’’ sole goes silent and then smiles softly ‘’thanks strong that’s really nice of you to do that for me, but you don’t have to I like you the way you are’’ strong slowly puts sole down and sole pats him on the arm

Mac and Duncan just looked at each other awkwardly and kept eating the whole time

Bonus Bonus

Maxson:

(I hope this was okay!! thank you so much for requesting I had a BLAST doing it!! xxx)

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myhockeyworld87 · 4 years

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Nervous Regrets - Tyler Seguin - Part 22.5

Word Count: 3422

POV: Tyler

Warnings: Language

Notes: So I decided to do the proposal from Tyler’s point of view, since he went through a lot to ask (Y/N) to be his wife. I tried not to make it too repetitive. Hope you guys like it. Peace, Love and Hugs all!!!

Present day….

As you held (Y/N) in your arms on the dance floor, part of you still couldn’t believe that she’d agreed to be your wife. The last time you were this nervous, was when you’d been in this exact same place only months ago, trying to win her back. Now here she was, your fiancé. Your heart was so full at this moment, it felt like it was going to burst. Looking down at (Y/N), you could see her eyes sparkling with happiness.

You expected her to ask you all kinds of questions about tonight, that’s just who she was; though you didn’t expect them now. “Ty, I can’t believe you did all this for me? Jenna said there are even cameras somewhere around here. How in the world did you do this?”

“Well it wasn’t easy, but it was worth it; you’re worth it.” And though you were teasing her about it not being easy, there were times you’d thought about calling the whole thing off; and just making the proposal simple. “You know, I almost cancelled this whole thing.”

“What? Really?”

“Yep. There were so many times I thought I was just hurting you and I didn’t want to do that.”

“You mean yesterday?”

“Well yeah, but it actually started….”

Sometime in November….

She was crying and it was all your fault, that’s the only thing you could think of, when you found (Y/N) in the baby’s room sobbing after the phone call to her mom. She had no clue that none of her family or yours were going to be coming for Thanksgiving because they would be here about a week later. The only thing you could think of to do, was to gather your hockey buddies who would be home and make new traditions. She seemed totally excited about the idea, and you knew Candace and Cassidy coming would distract her for a little bit.

What she didn’t know, was the reason behind their little jaunt down to Dallas. They were bringing her ring which was finally finished and you couldn’t wait to see it. Luckily you were able to pull Candace aside after the tour of the house. “Do you have it?”

“Of course I have it!” You pulled her further into the bedroom she would be using, and put your finger to your lips to shush her. “Sorry. Yes, I have it and it’s absolutely gorgeous.” She started digging through her purse looking for the box. “Like seriously Ty, I hope some guy gives me something even remotely close to this someday.” She held the box out and your hands shook as you took it from her. When you opened the velvet clad box and saw what the jewelry designer had done, you were speechless. It was everything and more than you ever imagined. “I know takes your breath away doesn’t it? You did good big brother.”

“Thanks. It’s amazing.” The emerald cut five carat diamond, lay nestled in a trapezoid diamond ring mounting. There was a smaller diamond on each side of the emerald cut one, to accentuate the large stone. The band was also encircled in diamonds, while the entire ring was done in a platinum setting. “I hope she likes it.”

“She’d be crazy not to.” It was the answer you were hoping she would give you, even if it insinuated (Y/N) was a bit off her rocker. “So where are you hiding this until the big day?” You thought about this for awhile now, and knew it would be hard to keep it hidden in this house from (Y/N); but you’d finally decided on the perfect place.

The back of the walk-in closet in Candace’s bedroom held some of your spare shoes and their boxes in it, so you decided it was the perfect place to hide the ring. You placed it in the third row, in the third box down, which made it easy for you to remember; but also some place (Y/N) wouldn’t look right away. If she would by chance come in here, she would probably just grab one of the top pairs. “There, perfect. This will be one of the last places she’ll ever look. Now we better get downstairs before she notices we’re missing.”

“Wait.” Stopping in your tracks, you turned around to see what else your sister had to say. “So, like on the way home Cass totally lied to (Y/N).” You gave her a quizzical look. “Well, she was wondering why we weren’t coming for Thanksgiving and well at first she blurted out that we were Canadian.”

“Oh my god, you’re kidding me? Why would she say something so stupid?”

“Well she did cover that up, by saying I’m dating some guy; that you basically wouldn’t approve of. So if she says something to you; it’s not true.”

“You sure about that?” You couldn’t miss an opportunity to tease your sister about a boyfriend.

“Yes I’m sure, you ass!” She swatted at your shoulder.

“Ouch!” You rubbed your shoulder even though it didn’t hurt. “Alright, I’ll play along. Now let’s get going.”

By the time you got downstairs, (Y/N) and Cass were in deep conversation about the Bachelor or some such nonsense. Eventually you were able to butt in and tell her about your fake gala. When she asked you to skip it, you thought you were going to die. Luckily you had back-up in the form of your sisters; who offered to take her shopping, on your dollar of course. Though if it got (Y/N) to go, you had no problem footing the bill.

The rest of the time with your sisters flew by and soon you were headed off on another road trip. Thankfully Candace and Cassidy stayed a few extra days with (Y/N). You were extremely grateful that they did, knowing that (Y/N) was having a hard time with Thanksgiving coming up. The holiday itself ended up being a huge success, as about twenty or so of your teammates gathered at your house for the feast. (Y/N) was in her glory, cooking and hosting everyone; and you could really tell how much she enjoyed being surrounded by your hockey family.

However, the joy was short-lived as you had to head out of town again for several days. Luckily, when you got back (Y/N) still hadn’t found the ring and was still blessedly unaware of any of the plans you had for her. Enlisting the help of two of your teammates significant others, you planned for (Y/N) to spend most of the day at the spa getting ready, though there were things that you needed to have done before the actual day of the proposal. The idea was to meet (Y/N)’s best friend Jenna and a few others, as well as the event planner, to make sure everything was perfect in the ballroom. You wanted to run through everything one time before the big day; after all, just like hockey, practice makes perfect. Which is how (Y/N) found you in the guest closet. You’d just put the ring in your pocket and were placing the shoe boxes back when she came in.

Thankfully she thought you were trying to peek at her dress, which she’d kept hidden from you. When she suggested that she run errands with you, you’d just about died. There was no way you could take her with you and get everything that you needed done. Why you’d insist that she stay with the dogs, was beyond you; you’d chalk it up to your brain being fried from planning this proposal and keeping everything from (Y/N). It would’ve been easier to say that you had practice or needed to watch films, she would’ve easily accepted any of those excuses. Instead she stormed out of the room, obviously upset, and you had no idea what to do. So you left.

By the time you arrived in the ballroom, you were already fifteen minutes late and Jenna was on the phone. “Sorry I’m late.” She shushed you quickly, so you assumed (Y/N) was on the other end. Ugh! It must be bad if she was calling Jenna about you. You couldn’t have her hating you, the day before you were going to propose. Hopefully Jenna would be able to help you make things right with her.

“Jesus Seguin, have you been hit one too many times in the head or what?”

“Is it that bad?”

“Fuck yeah it’s that bad. She thinks you’re cheating again.” Your heart literally sank into your stomach and you felt like you were going to throw up its contents.

“You can’t be fucking serious.” All you could think of was that all these plans were going down the drain, because if she truly believed you were cheating on her, she’d never say yes to marrying you.

“She said you’ve been acting weird lately and that’s all that she can come up with.” Before you could say anything, Jenna continued. “Remember, she’s pregnant and hormonal, so of course she’s going to jump to conclusions; but I covered for your ass.”

“Really?” So there was some hope in salvaging all this.

“Of course, I couldn’t let her think that you’re cheating on her when you’re doing all of this.” The ballroom you were standing in was coming to life. Flowers everywhere, shimmering lights, glowing off of beautifully decorated centerpiece. The room all done in white and silver, as the only details of the dress your sisters gave you was the color. You turned your attention back to Jenna. “I convinced her, that you were just doing something special for tomorrow night, like getting a limo or something to that effect.”

“A limo?”

“Hey! You’re lucky I came up with anything at all.” This was true. “She actually didn’t think you’d be renting a limousine either. So I told her it was probably something more extravagant.” She just shrugged at you, as if to say what else could I do.

“Ok, so what do you suggest?”

“I can’t do everything Seggy.”

Which was also true. You should be able to come up with something on short notice. “What about jewelry? Earrings or a bracelet.” There was a jeweler close by that you’d used in the past. They usually had beautiful pieces on hand that wouldn’t have to be specially made.

“Jewelry’s good. Nothing says ‘I’m sorry, I’m a fucking ass’ like diamonds.”

“The fucking ass part was a bit much.” Again she shrugged and cocked her head at you. “Alright maybe not, but I am making up for it all with this.” You gestured to the room with your hand.

“Fair enough, but don’t mess up again; or I may have to punch you into next week.” You both laughed, however you knew in the back of your mind, that Jenna would follow through with her threats.

“I promise, you’re never going to have to do that. Now let’s get to work on this place, because apparently I have to make a stop at a jewelry store.”

You had wanted all of your friends and family to hear the words you spoke to (Y/N) when you asked her to marry you. So you and the event planner had worked a way to stream a live feed to the room adjacent where everyone would be hidden. She even had multiple cameras hidden all over the room, and a videographer who would be switching between so everyone would be able to see her reaction. A hidden microphone was placed high above in a chandelier directly in the center of the dance floor, which would pick up every word the both of you said. With one last run through of the whole thing, you said goodbye to (Y/N)’s friends and headed out to the jewelers.

On the way there you decided to call Candace for advice, as to what would look good with her dress. “I’m not going to give you all the details…”

“Really? I’m struggling here can you not help your big brother out?”

“If you’d let me finish.” You kept your mouth shut. “but…it has a low plunging neckline, so I’d go with some sort of necklace.”

“Perfect. Necklace it is.” Pulling into the parking lot of the jewelry store, you added. “Thanks Candace. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Good luck brother.”

The jeweler greeted you as soon as you walked in the door, and you explained what you wanted in short order. He took you over to a case which contained several pieces, but only one stood out to you. The necklace contained three stones, two smaller ones and one larger pear-shaped diamond at the bottom. It was the combination of the three stones that drew you. Of course, most people looked at them as, the past, the present and the future; which could totally be true in this case. But when you looked at it, you only saw that each smaller stone represented you and (Y/N); only leading to a larger one that represented not only the love that you shared, but the culmination of that love which was your child.

“I’ll take it.” It didn’t matter what the cost was, you knew then and there that your future wife needed to have this when you proposed to her. You could already picture (Y/N) wearing it on your wedding day, and then a thought struck you. It was picture almost clear as day, your daughter wearing it on hers, it would become a family tradition. Of course you still didn’t know if you were having a boy or a girl, but you were sure at some point you’d have a daughter and she too would wear this. They wrapped it in a black velvet box, then placed it in a gift bag for you. Now all that was left to do was give it to (Y/N).

It was later than you anticipated when you walked through the door of your house, but what surprised you more, was that you couldn’t find (Y/N). She wasn’t in the office or the kitchen, which is where you’d assumed, you’d find her. Instead, she lay sleeping on your bed, surrounded by her ever-faithful protectors, your dogs. She lay there so peacefully, yet you could see the tears that stained her face. It tore at your heart, and though part of you hated to wake her, there wasn’t much time for an apology, given you’d be leaving for the game soon.

Fortunately for you, (Y/N) forgave you and totally thought that you bought the necklace for her to go to the gala. Though you didn’t get to tell her it’s significance until later that night, as you were too busy worshiping her body with only the necklace on her. It wasn’t until later that night as you were lying in bed, after making her put the necklace back on; that you were able to tell her why the necklace was so special to you.

Pointing to the first stone, closest to the chain, you started to tell her. “This one right here, that’s me.”

She smirked at you before saying, “I thought you’d be the largest one.”

“Haha…you’re so funny.” You poked at her ribs, causing her to giggle. When her laughter finally subsided, you continued. “The one in the middle, that’s you; and the last and biggest stone is our love, this one right here.” You placed your hand on the baby, softly caressing her skin, then moved your lips close so you were talking to your child. “See little one, you get the largest stone, because mommy and daddy’s love is so great, it made you.” Gently, you placed a soft kiss on (Y/N)’s stomach, then looked up at your soon to be fiancé. There were tears in her eyes, but you knew they were happy ones.

“I’m the worst girlfriend ever.”

“No you’re not baby.” You moved so you could gather her in your arms.

“But I totally ruined your surprise. I swear I’ll never doubt you again, Ty.”

“Babe, you didn’t ruin anything.” Which was completely true. Buying this necklace had been an added bonus, that you didn’t know you both needed. “Though I won’t lie, I love knowing that I’m earning your trust again.” “Oh Ty, I do trust you. I think this pregnancy is making me a little crazy, but I love you so much; and I know you wouldn’t cheat on me. I’m so sorry for thinking that. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Sweetheart, there’s nothing to forgive.” To empathize the point, you kissed her with all the love you had in your heart. Which soon lead to other things.

When the alarm went off in the morning, your heart was racing for what was to come today. (Y/N) had plans with a couple of the wags today, which left you free to put all the last-minute finishing touches on everything. There wasn’t a lot to do, but it gave you time to meet up with some of your family and friends before everything. As the day continued on, you felt your nerves picking up. It wasn’t that you were nervous about proposing, in fact, it was the exact opposite; you were excited for it. The only thing that bothered you, was the slight chance that (Y/N) could say no. Of course, you knew she loved you; it was just every time you’d brought up the topic of marriage, she’d always claimed it was too soon.

“Stop worrying. She’ll say yes.” It was your mom’s voice that broke through your thoughts. She knew you all to well.

“I sure hope so mom, cause I don’t know what I’ll do if she doesn’t.”

“Tyler honey, she loves you so much. Anyone can see that. She’s just been scared, and rightly so.” She patted you on the shoulder. “But lately, you can see…she wants this as much as you do. She wants you guys to be a family.”

“I hope you’re right mom.”

She wrapped you in a tight embrace. “She’ll say yes honey; trust your mom on this.” A sigh of relief escaped you, as her words sunk in. Squeezing your mom one last time, you headed back home with one thought on your mind; the next time you saw your family and friends you’d hopefully be an engaged man. That thought made you smile the whole way home.

When you saw (Y/N) walking down the stairs of your home, she literally left you speechless. You knew she’d be gorgeous no matter what she wore; you just hadn’t expected her to look so…well, stunning, but then that wasn’t the right word either. The sparkle of the gown cast a magical glow about her, while her smile captivated you with it’s radiance. She looked truly enchanting, and not that you hadn’t known this before; but you realized in that moment how lucky you were to have her in your life. Hopefully that luck would carry you through tonight, and you would be calling her yours forever.

You knew the moment she went to call Andrea and Alandra, the fake gala plan had worked. She was still clueless about your proposing. Holding her in your arms as you moved about the dance floor was almost surreal; yet it calmed nerves. This would be the last dance you would have as just two people, the next time you held her like this you would be on a path to becoming one.

You weren’t sure if you’d said everything you wanted to say to her, or if you fumbled getting all the words out, but what you were one hundred percent sure of, was that (Y/N) said yes. And now she was here in your arms dancing again, just like you were moments before only this time she was your fiancé; and now she knew everything that had gone on up until this moment.

“So now you know, how we pulled it all off.” There were tears in her eyes, and you reached out and brushed them away. “There’s one more thing you need to know though.” “Oh Ty, I can’t think of anything else you could tell me. You went above and beyond anything I could’ve ever dreamed of.”

“What if I told you, I’d do it all over again, even the part where you thought I’d cheated on you.” She smiled through her tears at you, and you wiped them away again. “And you know why I would? Because the love we share is worth everything.”

#tyler seguin #tyler seguin imagine #tyler seguin imagines #nervous regrets #dallas stars #dallas stars imagine #dallas stars imagines #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction

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27emailsicantsend · 4 years

Text

Different: A Rina One Shot

Author’s Note: This is not a continuation of the Rina Holiday Fics. I am working on the Valentine’s Day one right now. I just saw these pictures of Sofia floating around on Twitter (attached below) and some people in a group chat of mine were throwing around head canons of what Ricky’s reaction would be to her in this dress. I couldn’t stop thinking about it so I decided to write about it. (Also, there might be typos since it’s a one shot and I was in a hurry-sorry!) Enjoy! ☺️

Ricky knew he had only a week left until the school dance. He also knew that he was finally getting to dance with Nini. This was something he had been looking forward to since Homecoming of this year. It was the big Valentine’s Dance and he was going to get in his nicest suit, go on the perfect date, and have the perfect slow dance- with Nini! But every time he looked in the mirror, he couldn’t get himself to smile, to show enthusiasm, to show a mere shred of finally belonging where he knew he belonged: on the dance floor, swaying back and forth with the girl he’s loved since Kindergarten. Was it because his mom moved back with her new boyfriend that kept him disengaged? Or was it the fact that since basically everyone in the play this year was dating each other, he knew he wouldn’t really spend time with the group as a whole this dance? He hadn’t seen Big Red in weeks because he was constantly with Ashlyn. But Ricky shook his head- that was definitely not it. Something felt wrong about all of this. Different. It was as if there was this arbitrary momentum to his life; yet he couldn’t reconcile with what it was.

“Hey, boyfriend. What are we doing today, boyfriend?” Nini grabbed Ricky’s hand playfully, a childlike innocence darting in her eyes. This caught Ricky off guard.

“Uh... h-hey Nini, I was going to talk to you about that...”

Bzzz. Bzzz.

Gina: Thank you so much for being willing to help me with this! I wasn’t really sure who to ask.

Gina: But I could totally ask Ashlyn again if she could come. She’s just in so many clubs it’s hard to find a time.

Ricky looked down at his phone cautiously while Nini led him down the hallway, discussing potential ideas for the evening. Ricky nodded his head adding little “yeah’s” and “uh-huh’s” as he listened, but he was obviously more intent on his phone. Nini didn’t seem to notice.

“We could go ice skating... do homework... go to the library...”

Bzzz. Bzzz.

Gina: Does after school still work for you?

Gina: We can meet at the coffee shop, get some hot cocoa and then go if you’d like?

“Or we could go to that cute little new art museum downtown- Ricky?”

The sound of his name made him jump. Or maybe she did notice.

“Oh? What? Sorry. I just need to reply to this real quick and then you have my full attention”.

Nini crossed her arms and purses her lips playfully as she waited.

Ricky: That sounds perfect! I’ll meet you there after school! I promise I’m not bailing. I’ll be there!

Ricky put his phone in his pocket as Nini gently put her hands on his arms so they were facing each other.

“Ok now do I have you?”

Ricky smiled as he threw his arms to the sides. “All yours!”

Nini kept her position as she asked, “so do any of those things sound good to you?”

Ricky, now obviously puzzled asked, “what things?”

Nini dropped her arms as she gave a slight whine in her voice, “Ricky! What we were doing after school today. We’ve been so busy with the play all week we decided yesterday we’d hang out after school today. Remember?”

Shoot. He didn’t remember. “Oh yeah! Totally!” Ricky hoped his tone didn’t give away that he had no recollection of that conversation from yesterday. “But I actually made plans and I can’t really cancel them. I’m so sorry, Nini. I promise I’ll make it up to you, but it’ll have to be tomorrow. Is that ok?”

Surprisingly, Nini didn’t ask what those plans were. Ricky felt bad for bailing on her, but Gina didn’t have anyone else to look for dance dresses with. Everyone was busy this week and she barely got the money in time with her new job as a barista at the coffee shop they were meeting at later today. Ricky was really the only person available- Nini would have been, but Nini already told her she had plans- which were now the ones Ricky forgot about.

“Ok...” Nini said, a little glum.

“Nini,” Ricky now grabbed her arms lovingly, “I promise. I will make it up to you,” RIIINNNGGGG! The final school bell rang. “But not right now! I’ve got to go!” Ricky gave Nini a quick kiss on the forehead and hurriedly ran down the hallway to the front doors of the school.

About half an hour later Ricky swiftly rolled up to the coffee shop. Slinging his skateboard up into his hand, he saw a familiar figure standing outside. Her tossled brown curls tied up in a loose knot on the back of her head, random strings of curl falling out of it. A light pink puffer coat, skinny jeans, and tall pink boots to compliment the coat- completing the outfit. Gina was looking at a random newspaper article taped to the side of the building when Ricky spotted her. When she heard the wheels on his skateboard she turned around to meet eye contact with Ricky.

“Hey!”

When Ricky met eye contact with Gina, he noticed she had a full face of makeup on. It wasn’t that she didn’t look good without it, because she did, but she looked brilliant with this much more sophisticated, “night out” type of look.

“Hi! You got pretty dressed up for this, I see?” Ricky wasn’t sure how to word that question, so he slightly winced at it.

Gina didn’t seem to care as she gave him a small giggle. “Yeah, another YouTube tutorial. I thought it might be fun to see the dresses with what my make up might look like that night. Really set the stage, you know?”

Ricky continued to stare at her. “I sure do,” he said with a gentle smile. Ricky and Gina stood in silence for a few seconds before Gina finally (and awkwardly at best) broke it.

“Well, wanna go get our drinks?”

“Sure!” Ricky said as he ran to to hold the door open for her.

The next two hours were filled with sipping hot cocoa in the light snowfall, cracking jokes, Gina stealing Ricky’s skateboard and Ricky chasing after her only to turn around and realize a dog was lapping up his open hot cocoa he left on a park bench, looking at a few stores where Gina tried on some dresses but none of them made her happy, and even going into a skate shop for a couple of minutes to look at new wheels for Ricky’s board.

Ricky and Gina finally arrived at a quaint Prom dress shop. It was the last one they could go to before Ricky and Gina both needed to get home for dinner. The shop was small, but there were about a hundred gowns on racks within it. There were two dressing rooms nuzzled in a corner and a couple of chairs waiting outside the dressing rooms.

The only person in the shop, presumably the owner, walked up to Gina and began to ask her a few questions like what was she looking for, what size dress does she typically wears, what color, etc. Ricky took a seat in the chair and played a game on his phone while he waited.

Gina first tried on a bright green dress that was long and silky, but she said was a pain to move in. Then she tried on a purple dress that was too short for her taste. While she was trying on her third dress, Ricky began to ask her about the dance.

“So this guy Drake that asked you? How do you know him again?”

“We’re in a math class together. I don’t really know him super well, but he seems cool so I’m hoping we have a good time”.

“Well, if it’s too awkward for you to go by yourself, you could always double with Nini and me. We were going to get dinner before-“

Gina stepped out, stopping Ricky’s words in his tracks. She looked stunning- like an actual supermodel. The dress was body forming and floor length. It was a beautiful red, white, green and black pattern with a v-neck. She seemed taller and more confident as her eyes beamed with excitement. Ricky knew that she knew this was the one. This was the dress. She still asked, “what do you think?”

Ricky opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was his jaw dropping and his mind uttering the words he wished to say outloud: Hello, Different.

#rina #ricky bowen #gina porter #hsmtmts #high school musical the musical the series

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yesloverboy · 5 years

Text

Punk Rock Girl, Please Look at Me (mgk!Tommy Lee x Reader)

Requested: @angelfuzzy2

“Oh well it could kinda be a one shot , But I do have one , where Tommy Meets the reader , like early on in his life , looses her (like lost track of her) later to find out she’s a famous singer and tommy meets her again , at her concert or they meet at a party again and reconnect , but the rest of the band don’t know the reader is like seriously famous yet , just Tommy , but the band finds out later”

Note: Thank you all for your patience! I loved writing this request so much, so let me know if y’all would like to see sequel. As always, I know I’ve been a super slow writer because of my new job, but feel free to send me more requests! They’re pretty much always open, and I’m more than willing to write for the other Crüe boys. :)

Edit: also props to anyone who knows where I got the title from.

word count: 5,632

[Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, misogyny, swearing, drug & alcohol mention/usage, mild injuries, and two pining idiots]

The stage lights are blinding as the last note of the song plays out, the sound of guitar feedback drowning out the roar of the crowd beneath you. You breathe hard, sweat dripping from your hair as a broad smile stretches across your face. This is what you loved most in the world– playing music in front of dozens of your supporting fans. When you sang, they sang every word right back to you. No feeling in the world could ever replace that. You and your band Vertigo are on the verge of a big break, and these are the people that helped get you there.

As you step off the stage, your manager Scott immediately rushes to your side with a towel and a water bottle in hand. You accept both, pouring the water onto your head and shaking off like a dog. Scott raises his hands in an effort to shield himself, but ends up showered with water anyways. You roll your eyes, not knowing what the big deal is. It’s your final show of the tour, he should be used to it by now.

“Hey, Y/N!” Scott calls as you move past him to go to the green room, “There’s a guy out by the bar that’s been bugging all night to see you.”

You turn on your heel to face Scott, eyebrow raised in confusion, “What guy?”

Scott shrugs, “Says his name is Tommy Lee.”

Tommy Lee, your mind reels at the sound of his name. A flash of memories flood your head, all of which playing visions of your childhood. Tommy had been your first friend when you moved to California in the third grade, and ended up being your last when you moved away in high school. All these years, you can’t believe that he would remember you, let alone recognize you.

You give your bandmates a quick heads up, and amble out to the bar area in search of Tommy. Surprisingly, you feel nervous for the first time in years. You aren’t sure what he looks like or what he’s up to these days– and there is always the chance that he wouldn’t take a girl in a band seriously. That happens a lot more than you’d like to admit.

Luckily, you don’t have to search for long before a loud voice calls to you from the end of the bar.

“Y/N! Hey, over here!”

You look over and are caught breathless by the sight of a tall stranger with long, brown hair waving enthusiastically in your direction. He definitely looks different from how you remember, but the smile he’s giving you is just the same. Back in the day, you knew Tommy was a cute kid, but you never imagined he would turn out to look quite this handsome. He’s tall, lean, and completely rocking a pair of tight, leather pants.

Walking over, you muss your hair into some semblance of order and wipe at the remaining eyeliner running from the corners of your eyes. You are fully aware of how much of a mess you look. It’s a part of your thing. Smeared lipstick, melted eyeliner, and ripped jeans are basically your work uniform. Music executives and your fans like you because of how uncaring you look. You’re like one of the guys– only hotter. The problem is, you had never once been self-conscious about it. That is, until now.

As you nervously approach Tommy’s smiling face, you notice he has a slightly busted lip and the ghost of a black eye beginning to form. He stands up from his seat at the bar, towering over you at a surprising height.

“Tommy, is that really you?” you ask, feeling as though you’re practically looking up into his eyes, “How in the hell did you find me?”

“The one and only!” Tommy laughs, pulling you into a bone crushing hug. He still has a familiar smell that lingers with the cigarette smoke clinging to his hair and clothes. “I actually got kicked out of the bar across the street so I came over here,” he answers sheepishly.

“Kicked out? Tommy what fuck–”

“It doesn’t matter, dude, because I found you!” Tommy slaps you hard on the shoulder, his boyish grin still persisting, “Your band fucking rocks, by the way. When did you learn to sing like that?”

“Oh, um, I guess when I moved away? I didn’t have many friends so I turned to music instead,” you reply, face feeling hot from the sound of Tommy’s praises, “Obviously, it’s more complicated than that, but you get the idea.”

Tommy grabs his beer off the bar and tips it back, finishing the rest of it in one gulp, “Why don’t you tell me all about it?”

He wipes his mouth with the back of a large hand and you feel your throat go dry. When you were younger, Tommy had been the one person you could always be yourself around. However, having him barge into your life as a hot stranger is an entirely different story.

“Tommy, I don’t know, man. My band is probably gonna come looking for me.”

“Let ‘em. Remember the old diner at the end of the block? It’ll be just like old times,” Tommy looks at you with pleading, blue eyes, reminding you of the first time you met him on the playground all those years ago. “Besides, my band might just be looking for me, too.”

“Aw, fuck it,” you relent, trying your best to conceal the smile on your face. Needless to say, it’s a losing battle.

...

You and Tommy end up staying at the diner until closing, exchanging old memories over a shared platter of blueberry pancakes and a chocolate shake. As it fate would have it, the two of you still have just as much in common as you did when you were kids. Maybe even more.

It absolutely delighted you to find out that Tommy is still playing the drums– only this time it’s for a band of his very own. He told you that he even found a friend from high school to join Mötley Crüe, but he and Tommy had apparently met long after you’d already left. Vince was his name and, although he sounds like a bit of a diva, Tommy insisted that you’ll like him. Then again, Tommy likes everyone.

Eventually, you’d even gotten around to telling Tommy all about Vertigo and how you had already amassed a large following on the East Coast. When the band’s single got played on a radio station in the UK, that was the moment you all decided to take things to the next level. The only piece of the puzzle that seemed to be missing was the West Coast, which gave you the perfect excuse to end the tour in L.A. and relocate.

“Wait, so you’re back for good?” Tommy had asked, eyes hopeful as he nearly bounced out of his seat.

“For now,” you smiled, knowing that you couldn’t totally be sure. Your chest tightened as you found a small part of yourself wanting to say yes instead.

In your life, you had never been the kind of person who thought they needed to be completed by anyone else. You’re independent– a stand alone personality and the hero of your own story. However, something about seeing Tommy again brought your attention to an emptiness in your heart that you never knew existed. It didn’t make any sense. Being in the band meant you were around guys all day, and not a single one made you take so much as a second glance.

Now, as you and Tommy step out of the vacant diner and onto the strip, you catch yourself staring as the neon lights shift and dance across his face. Much like when you were kids, Tommy’s resting face was one of a perpetual smile– even with a black eye and a busted lip.

“Hey dude,” Tommy stops suddenly, shaking you out of your trance, “you should totally come meet the band!”

“Are they nearby?” you ask, eyebrows raised as you scan the droves of people clamouring along the strip.

Tommy scoffs, “Where do you think I was with before I found your sorry ass?”

You giggle at his teasing tone and ram your body into his, nearly crowding Tommy off of the sidewalk and into the busy street.

“Better watch yourself Bass, or Mötley Crüe might end up needing a new drummer,” you bait as Tommy catches his balance, teetering on a single foot back to the safety of the sidewalk. “Since when did you start going by Lee, anyways?

“Since it sounded so much cooler,” he grins, throwing his long arm over your shoulders and around your neck as the two of you walk onward.

“Cool? When have you ever been cool?”

Tommy glances down at you, knitting his brows together and pursing his lips in exaggeration. “Now that I think about it, right around when you left. Your nerd juice must have stopped rubbing off on me.”

“Shut the fuck up, loser,” you groan in frustration. Although you sound annoyed, you still lean into his side, maybe getting a little bit cozier than you ought to. To your satisfaction, Tommy hums contently and holds onto you just a little bit tighter. At this point in your lives, you and Tommy should have so many degrees of separation between the two of you that it would be impossible to connect again. Yet, here you are. Walking side by side, as if your feet had been stepping in sync with his for all those empty years in between. You wonder if he can feel it, too.

After walking a few blocks, you and Tommy stroll up towards a broken-down dive bar teeming with people. Judging by the leather clad kids in patched jackets and paramilitary boots, it is definitely the kind of punk scene you were comfortable in. Tommy’s pretty-boy appearance causes him to stand out a little, but his attitude makes up for it tenfold.

As you approach the bar, Tommy leads right up to a couple of young guys knocking back a row of shots. A third, more mature-looking man watches them from a barstool, disdain visible even from behind the dark sunglasses over his eyes. The man in the sunglasses notices the two of you walking up together and pulls down his shades to reveal a pair of cold, blue eyes.

“Drummer,” the man nods, “and friend.” Despite the room’s warmth from the summer heat, the iciness in the man’s stare makes you shiver involuntarily.

“What’s up fuckers!” Tommy exclaims, slapping the two younger guys on the back excitedly. The taller of the two spins around first, his mane of fluffy black hair sticking up wildly in all directions.

“Hey T-bone! Where the fuck have you been? Nice shiner, by the way,” his face twists into a mischievous smile as his green eyes land on you, “And who do we have here?”

“Oh yeah! Nikki, this is Y/N. She was, like, my best friend when we were kids. I just found her at a show a little bit ago.”

Nikki nudges the guy at his side, blonde hair and skin-tight tank top making you recognize him as Vince from yours and Tommy’s high school. You never actually got the chance to meet him before you moved away, but Tommy’s description of him being a diva seems pretty spot-on.

“Hey, Vinnie, check out T-bone’s best friend,” you frown at the patronizing lilt in Nikki’s voice, but decide to let it slide for now.

Vince grabs a beer off of the bar, taking a thoughtful swig while he studies you. “Well, well, well– it looks like Tommy’s found himself another one already.”

“Another one, what?” you snap, unable to control your flush of anger.

From what you could remember, Tommy may have been girl-crazy– and a little stupid sometimes –but he was never as arrogant and mean-spirited as the two guys in front of you seem to be coming across. It’s clear to you, even now, that Tommy is still a kid at heart, but his friends were ready to be rockstars down to their very core.

Vince takes a reflexive step back from you, and you smirk with satisfaction. “Uh, nothing,” he flounders, eyes darting between Nikki and Tommy anxiously. From his seat at the bar, you can hear the man in the sunglasses chuckle.

Vince throws his beer in the man’s direction and misses, the bottle clattering noisily to the floor without breaking. “Shut the fuck up, Mick,” Vince’s clearly bruised ego almosts gets a laugh out of you.

“Chill out, dude,” Nikki purs, stepping directly past Tommy and into your personal space, “you don’t have to explain anything to us– we get it.”

Tommy tries to wedge himself between you and Nikki, doing his best to intervene before things can escalate any further. Your teeth are gritted, firmly locking your jaw in an expression of restrained anger. More than anything, you want to wipe Nikki’s smug smile right off of his face. Nikki might be nearly as tall as Tommy, but you refuse to be intimidated.

The only thing stopping you is knowing that giving Nikki a fight would only cause more problems than it could solve. Even then, when you first agreed to be the frontwoman of Vertigo, you promised yourself that you would hold your own with the band guys without ever becoming like any of them. You aren’t about to let some amateur punk change that.

“Dudes, calm down! Y/N is one of my oldest friends, and I swear it’s not like that!”

“Whatever you say, T-bone,” Nikki shrugs, finally backing away from you in favor of leaning up against the bar. He stands there cooly as if he wasn’t just inches away from you. It’s more than obvious that Nikki was never actually going to engage in any kind of fight– the confrontation alone is enough to get him off.

Rolling your eyes, you return to Tommy’s side, wanting to put as much distance between yourself and his bandmates without hurting his feelings. You’re used to dealing with shitty rockstars and wannabe playboys, but since Vertigo’s newfound successes you had been dealing with it far less often.

“Besides,” Tommy continues, talking to no one in particular as he rests a supportive hand on your shoulder, “Y/N isn’t just my friend she’s–”

Realizing that Tommy is about to expose you as the singer of Vertigo, you quickly interrupt. Judging by the way Vince and Nikki feel about you while assuming you’re just some random girl, you decide that they don’t need to know you’re in a band. Hyper-masculine rock types tend to not take kindly to any woman that isn’t Joan Jett, and you aren’t ready to crack open that can of worms.

“Just visiting!” you say, plastering an artificial smile across your face.

For some reason, your reunion with Tommy makes you want to keep seeing him while you’re in town, and the only way that can happen is if you have as little attention paid to you as possible. With the band’s popularity on the East Coast, you know it won’t be long before everyone in L.A. will know your name– even the guys in Mötley Crüe.

“Speaking of,” you turn to Tommy, blatantly disregarding the confounded expression on his face, “I think I should probably be getting back to my hotel right about now. It’s getting late.”

“Uh yeah, sure,” Tommy blinks, “let me walk you there.”

“Come on, man, you don’t have to do all that. It’s way too long of a walk,” you complain knowing full well that you can handle a late night stroll on your own. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

“As if a short shit like you could hold your own in the big city,” Tommy’s joking voice settles your nerves. You turn to lead the way out of the bar, not bothering to say another word to the rest of Mötley Crüe.

By the time you shove past the shuffling crowd of punks and step outside, Tommy has already caught up to you. The night is warm with a gentle breeze that tickles your face, reminding you of careless, childhood summers where your nights spent at home were few and far between. Tommy had been by your side then and, miraculously, he’s at your side now. You find yourself constantly amazed at the way so much can change, and yet stay exactly the same.

“Sorry about all that, dude,” Tommy’s eyes are trained on the ground as he kicks his feet sheepishly, “I don’t know what’s gotten into them tonight. I mean, I know how they are around girls but you’re– you’re different.”

You punch his shoulder playfully, not wanting Tommy to feel responsible for the fact that his friends were clearly just drunk idiots acting like pigs.

“It’s alright, Tommy. You can’t fix stupid. Trust me, I tried to fix you for years.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he grins, eyes finally meeting yours. Every time Tommy looks at you, something stirs inside of you that you can’t put your finger on. The feeling excites and scares you, but you know that all of the best things in life are supposed to make you feel that way. Arm in arm, you and Tommy walk into the neon glow of the night, your heart skipping a beat with every step.

...

The walk ends up being a lot longer than either of you had expected, but neither of you seem to mind. In fact, the further you got away from the strip, the more connected to Tommy you seem to feel. The two of you had passed a cigarette back and forth as you travelled, walking so closely that it was a miracle one of you hadn’t tripped over the other’s feet.

When you finally approach your hotel, Tommy nearly passes it up. He didn’t realize that the art deco building with valet parking is basically your home until you find something more permanent. Your manager had arranged everything for you and, although you argued in favor of a simple motel, he obviously hadn’t listened to a word you said.

“Holy fuck, dude. This is your hotel?”

You suddenly flush red with embarrassment, feeling very not punk rock in the presence of such an extravagant building. “Uh, yeah. It seems that my manager went a little overboard when booking our place, huh?”

“Are you kidding me? This place is rad as fuck,” Tommy turns to you in a sudden burst of energy with a wild look in his eyes, “Do you think you’d let me come up and see the place?”

Although his question is innocent enough, you can’t ignore the way your stomach backflips at the thought of being alone with Tommy in your bedroom. With the recent upheaval of emotions you’d been experiencing since Tommy catapulted himself back into your life, you know that being with him any longer is bound to be a bad idea. It really was getting late, and part of you is starting to wonder if your feelings are real or just a product of exhaustion.

Still, Tommy’s sparkling blue eyes pull you in and you find yourself nodding your head yes before you can give his question a second thought. When the two of you walk inside, you’re too amused by Tommy’s enraptured gaze to notice the weird stares that the staff and other guests were shooting your way. There’s no doubt that you and Tommy stand out among the marble floors and jewel-encrusted chandeliers. Still, you smile all the way to the elevators, noting how small Tommy appears beneath the vaulted ceilings.

“I can’t believe you get to stay at a place like this,” Tommy says as the two of you step into the elevator. You aren’t sure if you’re seeing things or going crazy from exhaustion, but the sight of Tommy’s bruised eye glistening under the golden fluorescents looks strangely beautiful.

“Pretty crazy, huh?” you reply, knowing that the craziest part of your whole return to L.A. is standing right in front of you.

When the elevator reaches the thirteenth floor, you walk out ahead of Tommy, escorting him down the snaking hallway and to the front door of your room. You pry the door open, your breath hitching slightly as you feel Tommy shuffle in behind you. The room is spacious, with a plush king-sized bed and a floor to ceiling view of the city below.

“Damn dude, I really hope Mötley Crüe can come to places like this someday,” Tommy says, sauntering over to the window. He pushes the curtain back, revealing the city lights glittering in the darkness.

“You will.” Even though Tommy’s bandmates were indefinitely jerks, you believe in Tommy’s talent more than anyone else searching for stardom in this godforsaken city.

“Hey Tommy, I think I still have some bubbly the hotel left me if you wanna crack it open,” you bend over, reaching into the mini fridge to retrieve the full-sized bottle of champagne the hotel manager had left on your bed yesterday. While you were thankful for the welcome gift, you had never been one to drink alone. Tommy just so happens to be the perfect excuse to not let it go to waste.

Weirdly enough, Tommy doesn’t answer you. Standing upright again, you set the bottle on the dresser and decide to find out what’s captured his short attention span this time. Turning around, you nearly slam right into Tommy– not realizing he had been standing so close to you. He catches your arms, gently wrapping his large hands around your wrists to steady your balance.

“Shit, Tommy,” you laugh nervously, “I didn’t see you there–”

Before you can finish your thought, Tommy’s lips are pressed against your own. Instinctively, you kiss him back, feeling as though your body is on autopilot while your ability to think rationally takes the back seat.

You shiver as your lips melt into Tommy’s, his kisses becoming more frantic and desperate. Releasing his hold on your arms, Tommy cups the sides of your face. His tongue grazes your bottom lip, silently requesting permission to cross a line you can never come back from.

Gasping into his touch, you give him the freedom to explore. Slowly, he starts distancing his sloppy kisses from your mouth and places them on your jawline. You take in a sharp breath as he goes to work on your neck, your hands finding themselves nestled firmly in his hair as he nips at your throat.

“Fuck Tommy,” you pant, trying to gain some semblance of clarity, “what are we doing?”

Tommy stops kissing your neck to give you a firm look, his eyes dark with desire. “What I’ve always wanted to do,” he replies.

Your heart leaps at his confession, compelling you to kiss him once again. This time, Tommy’s hands snake up your shirt as he pulls your body against his. You yank your shirt up over your head, feeling as though the room is far too hot for the amount of clothes you’re wearing. Before you can start unfastening the button of your jeans, Tommy shoves you roughly onto the bed. You fall dizzily onto the plush duvet, your skin feeling as though its on fire.

“No, baby,” he growls, “that’s my job.”

Tommy discards his shirt, leaving himself standing bare-chested before you. Your face flushes at the sight of his cock throbbing through the constraint of his leather pants.

Fuck he’s gorgeous.

As you stare up at Tommy you can’t help but wonder how he turned out this way. If someone told you yesterday that you’d be moments away from fucking your childhood best friend, you would’ve laughed right in your face. Now here you are, shirtless and squirming with anticipation on your bed.

As you stare up at Tommy you can’t help but wonder how he turned out this way. If someone told you yesterday that you’d be moments away from fucking your childhood best friend, you would’ve laughed right in their face. Now here you are, shirtless and squirming with anticipation on your bed.

Before you can get lost in your thoughts any longer, Tommy is on top of you. Your mouths crash together in a hot disarray of lips and tongue. Tommy goes back to kissing your neck, sucking and biting the soft skin until it becomes bruised between his teeth. With each love bite, his mouth travels lower. All you can do is gasp with pleasure as he places a wet kiss on your lower abdomen, his hands going to work on pulling off your jeans.

As you lay there in your underwear, Tommy kneels before you at the edge of the bed, pausing to admire the shape of your body as it splays out before him.

“God, baby,” Tommy murmurs, his voice barely louder than a whisper, “you look so delicious spread out for me like this...”

Tommy situates himself between your legs, gripping your thighs tightly. You suck in a sharp breath as Tommy begins peppering your inner thigh with soft kisses, his lips fluttering painfully close to your bikini line. He looks up at you, dark blue eyes sparkling dangerously beneath his eyelashes.

“Can I make you feel good, baby girl? I want you to feel good,” his hot breath ghosts against the wet spot on your panties, and you find yourself nodding vigorously in response.

Tommy just shoots you a mischievous grin, licking a wet stripe up your clothed pussy. You are unable to contain the strangled moan that leaves your lips, fingers clawing aimlessly at the duvet for support. Your underwear is soaking wet, and you’re unsure how much longer you’ll last without any actual contact.

“Use your words, Y/N,” Tommy laps at your heat once again, eliciting another desperate gasp from you, “tell me what you want, baby.”

Crazed by Tommy’s teasing, you finally relent, “Please make me feel good, Tommy. Fuck, I want you–I wanted you the minute I saw you.”

Tommy chuckles darkly, aggressively pulling your panties off of your hips and onto the floor. Without so much as a warning, his tongue is on you; lapping at your hot center hungrily. As he sucks on your clit, you feel a large hand dig into the soft flesh of your thigh, raking downwards and scratching your skin.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck,” you chant, your abdomen tightening with hot pressure. You grip his hair as your hips involuntarily buck into his mouth, legs shaking as he hums with pleasure against your clit.

“You taste so good,” Tommy moans, curling one of his long fingers inside of you.

You clench around him, unable to keep your orgasm from taking you over any longer. A series of moans fall from your lips, your body hot with pins and needles. With your hands firmly twisted in the sheets, you come all over Tommy’s mouth and fingers.

Sitting upright, you blink at Tommy, mind dizzy with pleasure. “Oh my fucking god, Tommy,” you pant, “where did you learn to do that?”

“Lots of practice,” Tommy winks leaning in to kiss you. His lips are soft and loving against yours, causing a shiver to run up your spine. As the kiss becomes more intense, Tommy peels off his leather pants and climbs on top of you, pinning you onto the bed by your wrists.

“I don’t think so,” you growl between kisses, shifting your weight to wrestle for control.

You bite Tommy’s lip hard, catching him off guard just enough to roll him over. Climbing on top of him, you straddle Tommy’s hips firmly and situate yourself on the rock hard bulge in his underwear. Tommy hisses as you apply more pressure, his hands digging into your hip bones. Grinding against him, you pull him into another heated kiss. Tommy’s busted lip had reopened after you’d bitten him, causing a little bit of blood to drip into your mouth.

Deep down, you know you should stop kissing him like this, but something about seeing Tommy all roughed up turns you on in ways you would never have imagined. Judging by Tommy’s aggressive hold on your hips, you can only assume he’s feeling the same way. Without warning, Tommy shoves you aside to pull off his underwear. When his cock springs free, you are surprised to find that it’s even bigger than you expected.

Seeing your eyes widen, Tommy chuckles darkly, “Think you can handle it, honey?” Your heartbeat quickens as you look at Tommy’s flushed fash and tangled hair, a drop of blood trickling lazily down his chin.

“Try me,” you say definiantly, pushing him back down.

You mount him again, only this time there’s no fabric to separate the two of you. Teasingly, you rub your slick folds over the head of his dick, hoping that– maybe –you can make him beg for it. Tommy hisses as you rake your nails against his chest, leaving a trail of little pink lines behind.

“Fuck, baby, you’re such a bad girl,” Tommy gasps, “Wanna–wanna fuck you so bad.”

Hearing Tommy pleas makes you wet all over again, wanting so desperately to fill whatever was empty inside of you with the man under you. Slowly, you sink onto his cock, your inner walls stinging slightly from the stretch. Truthfully, you had never fucked a guy this big, and Tommy was barely fitting inside of you.

Tommy bites his lip, noticing the strain you’re experiencing. “That’s it, baby,” he coos, “you’re doing so fucking good for me.”

Encouraged by Tommy’s praises, you begin to rock back and forth. Tommy’s breathing becomes heavier with every stroke, and, before you know it, he’s guiding your movements with the grip he has on your waist. He feels good, better than any guy you’d ever been with, and you wonder if this is what you had been missing all along.

“You look so good when you fuck me baby,” Tommy babbles, his hips snapping up to meet yours. Tommy sits up, wrapping an arm around your back to pull you flush against his chest. His face is right up against yours as he fucks into you, your breathy moans falling hot against his open mouth.

Tommy’s fingers snake up your back and curl into the hair at the nape of your neck, tugging hard. You cry out from a mix of pain and pleasure, the heat in your abdomen tightening.

“Want me to make you feel good again? Hmm?” Tommy asks, blue eyes fixated firmly on your own. Without giving it a second thought, you nod, rocking your hips into his as sweat trickles in tiny beads down your face.

Suddenly Tommy’s hand firmly grips your throat, applying gentle pressure just beneath your jawline. Your breath catches in your throat as your breathing is restricted, waves of euphoria radiating through your body. Just as your vision begins to go a little spotty, your orgasm rips through you. As you cry out, Tommy’s movements become erratic and sloppy, his pleasure directly feeding on your own.

Tommy’s chanting your name when his orgasm hits, pumping into you while his hands grasp your face lovingly, his eyes never leaving yours. The both of you go limp, breathing and panting hard. Tommy falls back into the duvet, while you remain sprawled out on his chest, lightheaded and thoroughly exhausted.

“Oh...my fucking god,” Tommy heaves, the satisfaction in his voice audible. You can’t help but giggle breathlessly, “Emphasis on the fucking.”

Humming contently, you snuggle into his chest, feeling strangely at peace for someone who just fucked their childhood best friend. Tommy runs his fingers through you hair delicately, the act feeling drastically different from how he had been touching you just moments before. There’s a warmth spreading through your chest that you never knew could be there, and it’s consuming you like a wildfire.

A moment of comfortable silence passes between the two of you. Tommy pets your hair as you trace small circles on his bare chest and, somehow, the exchange feels more intimate than anything else the two of you had experienced together in the past hour.

“Y/N?” Tommy asks, his voice small.

You look up at him to find his expression unreadable. “What is it, Tommy?”

“Can I–can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering, you place a warm kiss to his lips. The sensation is soft and innocent. Gently, Tommy cups the side of your face, his thumb grazing your cheek tenderly. You nuzzle his nose as you pull away, eliciting amused smiles from the both of you. Part of you wishes this moment could last forever, but the self-doubt nibbling at your brain makes possibility of Tommy wanting to be with you seem unlikely.

“Why’d you ask if you could kiss me?” you wonder, finding it hard to believe that Tommy would suddenly think you wouldn’t be okay with it.

Tommy’s brow furrows together and he quickly averts his eyes, suddenly becoming fixated at a point on the ceiling. If you didn’t know any better, you would say he looked embarrassed.

“I just–” he starts with a sigh, running a hand through his chestnut waves, “I just don’t want this to be a one time thing, you know? You’re too important.”

Your heart pounds at his confession, pulse rushing noisily through your ears. When Tommy’s lips touched yours for the first time, you assumed that you wouldn’t be more than a one-night fling to him. Still, when you first saw Tommy that night, you swore you had felt something electric passing between the two of you; and now you know that you weren’t crazy after all. This was the first time you’d seen each other in years, but whatever you were experiencing now was real. More importantly, Tommy was experiencing it, too.

“I don’t think I want this to be a one time thing either.”

Masterlist

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colourthestarts · 5 years

Text

How Can Practice Matches Go So Wrong?

Y/n could not figure out who decided to start a practice match at 10am. On a Saturday. Just do it in the afternoon.

And then she realized.

It’s because it never ends.

She’s been here for two hours and both Nekoma and Fukurodani are both still at it.

“Mika.”

“Yeah.”

“When does this end?”

“I don’t know…” Mika was in the same position. Kuroo said it was a practice match. But these guys just kept going with occasional small breaks. She could also sense y/n patience was wearing thin.

When they first met up with Kuroo and Kenma everything was fine and they said it shouldn’t take long. Soon after they met with the Fukurodani team briefly and said polite ‘hellos’ then headed upstairs. After the warmup, few jokes and few beatings towards a very tall guy in Nekoma, probably a first year, the match started. Both y/n and Mika got into it. They talked about both teams and y/n did mention that Nekoma’s rhythm was really good and that Kuroo was a good leader. She also noted the ace and setter from the other team. They also worked good together.

Then an hour later a realization hit that they gonna keep going. And now they were stuck. If they leave it will be very rude and disrespectful, even if they were third years. But two hours in y/n no longer cared. She needed coffee and she was getting bored of just watching the same thing.

“Yeah… I’m gonna go get us coffee.” Y/n said while standing up and grabbing her purse and headphones.

“Seriously?” Mika whined. Although she could not argue against her decision. “I’ll come too!”

“Ahh no, I’m going alone I need a bit of a me time.” y/n answered calmly. She was not pissed and Mika knew it, she just wanted to be out of this situation for a bit. “Besides you dragged us here so basically it’s on you we are stuck here for the infinity. Want a frappuccino?”

“Yeah fine… and a brownie!”

“Sure. See you in a bit.”

_______________________________________________________________

Ten minutes later another set was finished. Kuroo was tired, not as tired as when they train at summer camps, but dealing with Bokuto’s spikes was a pain. Lucky enough Bokuto’s mood shifted downwards towards the end and his spikes were bad, but it’s not like the rest of the team is not strong. Everyone in Fukurodoni were strong opponents. But at last they were gonna have a thirty minute break before having another smaller warm up and having another few sets to go.

After the cool down, everyone went back to the bench to get towels and water. While Yaku was lecturing Lev in his more than poor receives and Bokuto went outside to get back his mood, Kuroo took a glance up where y/n and Mika were sitting. Scratch that. Y/n was not there. Where did she go? Mika, on the other hand, took this as an opportunity to complain.

“Jesus Kuroo you said a practice match! This has been going for over two hours! Do you want us to die here?!” He had to admit, he never anticipated this. Usually when girls are watching volleyball, they compliment how cool the players are. Not that this ever got to his head. Well it did a few times. But he had his own insecurities and he was realistic. Still full of confusion he answered.

“What? No! This is normal. We play against Fukurodoni all the time and its until we’re exhausted or hungry.”

“Clearly. You do know we got other stuff to do?”

“Like what?”

“…I don’t know… stuff… What does it matter?! You should have told me hold long this was gonna take!”

“Kuroo, girls don’t like waiting.” Nekomata sensei noted as he passed by.

“Sorry, I guess it just seems normal to us. You should go, I don’t wanna keep you longer than needed.” Kuroo hung his head lower as an apology.

“It’s fine. Y/n is getting coffee and snacks for the rest of this, she should be back in few minutes. So go clean up and eat to kick ass.”

Kuroo nodded and went outside for some fresh air. No need to overthink this and nothing bad happened. He just thought as someone who plays volleyball a lot. He knew that was fine and it appears the girls did too they just needed some breaks. So it’s all good. Tho it’s a shame he did not get a chance to chat with y/n, although he should focus on the practice match and he can chat proper later.

Turning a corner tho he was met with a direct view of y/n and Bokuto sitting on the grass and chatting. Bokuto appeared to be in a better mood then left which was great. But he was doing what Kuroo himself was supposed to be doing, talking to y/n. Despite that Kuroo wanted to turn around and find another place to chill, Bokuto noticed him and waved him to come over.

_______________________________________________________________

On her way to get coffee and then back to the gym y/n continued to ponder why she agreed to come with Mika. Regrets all the way. She could still be in bed. Not that watching volleyball wasn’t interesting, she has been a fan since her brother used to play. She went to their official matches, but was told not to come to practice ones. Now she knows why.

Just before turning the corner to the gym, y/n saw a guy from the Fukurodani team sulking on the grass. Think it was the wing spiker cause he was the only one to have hair like that. But it was not her problem so she kept walking… and then she turned back. Weak.

“Hey dude, what’s up with you?” But all she got was a mumble so she asked to repeat lauder.

“I can’t get my spikes through…”

“So you quit?”

“No, we’re having a break…”

“Okay, so what’s the plan?” She sat down too.

“What?” The guy for the first time looked at her. Jesus he looked miserable.

“Yeah… Like what do you wanna try to go through it? You know since it’s a never ending practice match you can just keep trying different things. Even if you fail, the more you try the higher chances are for you to get it right. Dunno.. like muscle memory?”

“So you’re saying my body will just do it on its own!?”

“What? No! Did you hear what I said? You decide what to do and how to do it, but the more times you do it the easier it will be to get it done faster and more effectively.” The guy pondered for a moment and then smiled. Very brightly.

“I think I get it! Thanks stranger!..ahh I’m Bokuto by the way, Fukurodani’s ace!”

“Y/n, Nekoma’s third year.” She said shaking his hand.

“So what are you here for? I saw you with another girl upstairs. Are you thinking being Nekoma’s managers?”

“Do I look like a person who wants to clean up after other guys messes?” Then she rephrased. “I’m not quite a helpful type. Nor do I have the patience. Mika, the other girl, was invited by Kuroo and I was dragged along.”

Bokuto remembered that Kuroo said he invited a girl he liked to watch the match, it had to be her friend. Speaking of which he just appeared around the corner so Bokuto waved him up. Noticing that y/n also turned and saw Kuroo, he seemed a bit down too. Is this the mood for today then? Usually he’s pretty alert and just a bit smug.

“I see you two have met.” Kuroo said with a smile.

“Yeah.. he looked down so I was like whatever I guess I’ll .. I don’t know … talk, distract? Something like that.”

“What?” Bokuto asked.

“You looked like a lost puppy and if it would be raining I would basically have to adopt you.” While Bokuto was processing, y/n stood back up. “Right, if I’ll stay longer Mika’s frappuchino will die on me and then she’ll cry so if you guys excuse me.”

When she was gone there was a bit of silence. Bokuto was still guessing when did he become a dog, while Kuroo realised that y/n was just being a nice person. Which was one of the reasons why he liked her. He realised there was no reason why he felt down, cause she didn’t seem annoyed at all. From her previous blunt remarks, he knew she would just say it straight.

“So it’s her friend that you like.” Bokuto stated.

“No it’s her Bokuto! Y/n is the girl!”

“Are you serious?!” Bokuto was shocked. This was not the type of girl that Kuroo would usually be smitten about. Not that he knew exactly, but she just seemed too… cool for him? “You usually like cute, shy, short girls that giggle a lot and she’s tall and like smart?”

“What does that mean?!” Kuroo irked. “Short girls are smart too and I like tall and smart girls too!”

“She seems too good for you.” Bokuto teased, he was clearly in a better mood. “This is it then! I’ll do my best to give you a hard time for the rest of the sets, so you’ll have to do your best and impress her!”

“What sort of logic is that?!” But Kuroo was ignored by Bokuto already dashing off and yelling for Akaashi. He wasn’t completely wrong either.

The rest of the practice went good, but by the end of it both teams were exhausted. When the clean up was almost done Kuroo waved for the girls to come down and introduced them to the rest of the team. Then Bokuto also appeared, introduced Akaashi and raved about him being a great setter. So Kuroo took the opportunity to ask if Nekomata sensei and Yaku, as the vice-captain, were okay with him inviting y/n and Mika to go eat with the team to which they both agreed. However, when he got back the pair politely refused and said that the team should do their own thing and have a good meal. The meal in itself was chaotic but not surprising considering both teams.

Kuroo almost chocked when Bokuto told him he got y/n number.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #Kuroo Tetsurou #kuroo x reader

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mikauzoran · 5 years

Text

Marichat Drabble: Aftermath - Clouds

It was still raining when Adrien woke up. The diffused grey light streaming in through the Dupain-Cheng’s living room windows told him it was destined to be a dreary day, perfect for his current mood.

He smelled tofu and veggie scramble, and the soft sounds of Chinese were drifting in from the kitchen—Sabine and Plagg.

Sometimes he forgot that Plagg could speak languages other than French. The way Adrien understood it, Plagg could sound like he was speaking whatever language his listener understood, but now Plagg was choosing to be heard in Chinese.

Adrien sat up and gave a stretch. “Good morning,” he mumbled in Chinese.

“Good morning, Adrien,” Sabine returned.

“Hey, Kid. How are you doing?” Plagg gave his chosen a quick once-over.

“I feel like it’s raining on me personally,” Adrien grumbled, kicking off the covers and getting to his feet. He straightened his rumpled clothing and set about folding up the sheet and quilt he’d used.

“Come get some coffee, Honey,” Sabine coaxed.

Adrien reluctantly padded over and helped himself to the coffee and milk.

Sabine waited until Adrien was situated at the table before gently inquiring, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Adrien blew bubbles into his coffee.

“You’re not obligated,” Sabine reminded, taking the pan off the stove and dividing the contents between three plates. She placed two pieces of toast on one of the plates and set it down in front of Adrien. The second plate she put at her own place, and the third she covered and set aside for Marinette.

“Thank you, Sabine.” Adrien wanted to cry. Even after all these months of being mothered by this woman, he still had a hard time really accepting that someone truly cared for him enough to do this. Nathalie tried, but mothering didn’t come naturally to her. She did her best to fill in for Emilie, and Adrien loved and appreciated her for that, but because of her position as his father’s assistant, because Gabriel and Nathalie’s relationship was a secret, because Nathalie didn’t feel right “taking Emilie’s place”, Nathalie had never really been able to meet all of Adrien’s needs.

Sabine, on the other hand, fed him, gave hugs, made cookies, taught him to cook, gave advice. Even in the old days, Emilie had never really been quite like that.

“Your daughter is going to be the death of me,” Adrien muttered, hoping he’d gotten the expression right in Chinese.

Sabine sat down across from him and arched an eyebrow. “Do you mind me asking what she’s done to you now?”

Adrien looked down into the tofu scramble. “It wasn’t entirely her fault; I’m just as guilty for always going along with whatever she wants.”

Sabine’s eyebrow arched higher. If her child had hurt her other child again… Sabine was going to have to talk to that girl whether Adrien wanted her to or not.

Adrien shook his head. “We were talking about…I don’t remember. It seemed important at the time, but it was getting late, so I said I needed to get home, but she asked me to stay. You know. With the tugging on my arm and the big, puppy-dog eyes?”

Sabine nodded knowingly. “And you couldn’t say no to her, especially when you didn’t really want to leave.”

“Right,” Adrien continued, spearing a piece of broccoli. “And then the storm started up, and she said I should wait it out before I tried going home. Which was fine because I really didn’t want to go out in that anyway, but then she suggested that we watch the storm through her skylight, so we were up on her bed, and then she started snuggling with me, and she was like, ‘Is this okay, Minou?’, and I was like, ‘Of course, Princess. Whatever you want. Why wouldn’t it be okay?’, but it wasn’t okay because she was pretty much on top of me, and—"

“—Adrien,” Sabine interrupted, her voice pitching up in concern with a touch of alarm. “Did she…” Sabine cleared her throat and tried again. “Did she have sex with you?”

Adrien’s entire face lit up like a stop light. He sheepishly shook his head.

“Did she ask you to make out with her?” Sabine worked her way down the list.

Adrien shook his head once more.

“She didn’t suggest any kind of friends with benefits arrangement, did she?” Sabine verified.

“No,” Adrien muttered, blush softening.

“You know what you should say if she ever does, right?” Sabine prompted.

Adrien nodded. “I should tell her no.”

“Right,” Sabine replied soothingly. “Please don’t let her hurt you like that. I don’t think she has any idea what she’s doing to you, since you haven’t told her about your feelings yet, and I know she would be horrified if she knew what she was putting you through.”

Sabine’s voice was gentle, but her words contained the undercurrent of “It’s been a few months. You really need to sit down and talk with her about your feelings”.

She reached out to give his hand an encouraging pat. “I’m sorry. I try not to tell you what to do, Adrien, but I see how miserable you are, how much pain you’re in, and it’s hard to sit on the sidelines and watch. I’ve respected your wishes and haven’t said anything about your feelings to Marinette or Tikki, but…Honey, I care about you. It hurts to see you like this and to do nothing.”

“You’re not doing ‘nothing’,” he assured. “You’re my moral support.”

Sabine pursed her lips. “All right. I won’t interfere. It’s your life, but know that I am strongly urging you to talk to Marinette.”

“I tried,” he sighed. “Last night.”

Sabine fumbled her fork. “What happened?”

Adrien poked at his breakfast, picking up a piece of toast and taking a bite. “We were snuggling, and I wanted her so bad. At the same time, I was feeling really guilty because I’m basically lying to her, letting her snuggle like that with a guy who’d sleep with her in a heartbeat. And she has no clue. But I was too scared to say anything. I was terrified she’d press her thigh a little farther up between my legs and find out. I was kind of panicking, and then she asked me what I was thinking about.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“…What did you say?” Sabine bit her lip.

Adrien slumped, pushing his plate out of the way so he could rest his head on the counter in defeat. “I said, ‘I’m in love’. I got as far as ‘I’m in love with’ when the look of horror on her face told me I needed to shut up. So I told her I was in love with her ears, what she had done with the double piercing, and she laughed, completely freaked out. She pretended to be relieved. She…I forget. I don’t remember what she said or what I said, but we just built this wall of lies around what had just happened and pretended that it hadn’t happened…that I hadn’t just told her I was in love with her.”

Adrien lifted his forehead only to drop it back down to the countertop once more.

Sabine reached out, putting a hand on his head to keep him from doing it a second time. “Oh, Kitten,” she cooed. “Do you need a hug?”

“I need a ride to the airport tomorrow,” Adrien muttered. “I have plans for this evening, but, if I’m successful tonight, tomorrow I need to move to London.”

Sabine turned to Plagg who had been quietly munching on a wheel of Edam. “Plagg, what really happened?”

Plagg tipped his head to the side. “You think he’s lying?”

“I think he’s catastrophizing,” Sabine corrected. “He’s not able to give me an objective narrative. You tell me what happened, please.”

“It’s like he said.” Plagg shrugged. “He said, ‘I’m in love’, and Marinette went white. I seriously thought she was going to pass out. She looked really freaked, scared,” he recounted. “Then, when the kid said, ‘I’m in love with your ears’, she started doing that laugh she does when she’s panicking but wants everyone to think she’s okay.”

“What did she say?” Sabine pressed for details. “Do you remember?”

“Something like how she thought he was going to tell her he was in love with another girl and ask her for dating advice…or something,” Plagg grumbled. “At the time, I was kind of busy feeling the kid’s heart split open to really listen.”

“She said she thought he was going to tell her he was in love with someone else?” Sabine repeated, mystified. “Well. That’s very interesting.”

“What’s interesting about it?” Adrien mumbled, lifting his head to meet her gaze.

“Adrien, why did you think Marinette was lying?” Sabine challenged.

Adrien’s brow scrunched up. “Because I had just told her I loved her, and she was trying not to hurt my feelings, so she was pretending she was freaked out for some other reason besides my confession.”

“Adrien, I’m not convinced that Marinette knew you were trying to tell her you loved her,” Sabine informed gently.

Adrien’s frown deepened. “Okay. Well. What other explanation can you come up with for last night’s events, then? I am willing to entertain alternatives to ‘the girl I’m in love with was so freaked out by my confession that she had to pretend that it didn’t happen in order for our friendship to be okay’.”

Adrien looked at Sabine skeptically but expectantly.

Sabine leaned in. “The girl that you’re in love with freaked out because she thought you were about to tell her you were in love with someone else and then ask for her advice.”

Adrien shook his head, pulling his plate back in front of him and shoving a forkful of tofu into his mouth. “That makes no sense,” he grumbled. “Why would that freak her out?”

“It would if she liked you and was afraid she’d lost you to someone else,” Sabine replied, a knowing smile tugging at her lips.

Adrien froze, staring down at the piece of yellow squash he was about to spear. He had to force himself to breathe.

“Perhaps she was panicking because she was trying to push her own feelings aside so that she could be there for you as a friend and give you advice,” Sabine suggested.

“People don’t help the person they like date other people,” Adrien scoffed openly, pushing the tofu around his plate.

Plagg snickered. “Remember when you tried to set Marinette up with hat-boy?”

“That was before I was in love with her,” Adrien retorted.

“No, it wasn’t,” Plagg countered.

“That was before I knew I was in love with her,” Adrien amended.

“Ah, yes,” Plagg snorted mockingly. “The ‘she’s just a friend’ phase. I don’t miss that.” He took a big chomp of his cheese.

“Actually, Adrien,” Sabine attempted to steer the conversation back on track. “It isn’t so strange for Marinette to push aside her own feelings for the sake of a friend. Do you remember when she went on that double date with you with Luka to help you out with Kagami?”

Adrien went still. “Y-Yeah?”

“Marinette still had a crush on you at the time.” Sabine let those words sink in before adding, “It’s not unprecedented for her to offer her own crush dating advice, so I wouldn’t dismiss the possibility that she likes you and was panicking because she really did think you were going to tell her you liked someone else.”

Adrien sat with that for a minute, quietly cleaning his plate as he considered the theory.

Sabine was silent, allowing him to think.

A minute or two later, he muttered, “So…maybe she likes me too?”

“Maybe,” Sabine agreed. “You won’t know for sure until you ask her.”

Adrien winced. “And risk going through that again?”

Plagg gave a little snort, stealing one of he red peppers off of Adrien’s plate. “It sounds to me like you’re really risking losing her if you don’t say something.”

Adrien groaned, shoving the remainder of one of his toast slices into his mouth.

“I’d counsel you to talk to her about it soon,” Sabine added pointedly. “I’m assuming you beat a hasty retreat after your almost-confession; that could lead to misunderstandings.”

Adrien’s shoulders rose up to meet his ears. “Actually, no. I didn’t run away at that point.”

Sabine quirked an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“No,” Adrien sighed. “After that, she said that I couldn’t possibly be thinking so hard about her ears, so I asked her if she still liked this guy she’d mentioned being in love with before.” Adrien set down his fork, covering his eyes so that he wouldn’t have to see Sabine’s reaction as he continued, “She said she did still love the guy, but she said that she was also in love with someone else too, and she felt really bad about it, and she seemed to think that things were doomed with the second guy, so I was trying to comfort her, but then she said she loved me—you know, in a platonic way—but…”

Adrien lowered his hands, meeting Sabine’s eyes as he confessed, “She was upset and kind of on the verge of tears. It hurt seeing her put on a brave face when she was hurting because of this other guy, so…I kissed her.”

Sabine stared blankly for a moment, thinking she’d misheard. “…You kissed her.”

Adrien nodded. “Just a peck, but on the lips.”

Sabine switched to French, thinking she had misunderstood. “You kissed her?”

Adrien frowned, stubbornly sticking to Chinese. “Yes, Sabine. Last night, I accidentally kissed your daughter…and she burst into tears.”

Sabine winced, going back to Chinese. “Oh, dear.”

“To be fair, I don’t think the kiss in and of itself made her cry,” Adrien elaborated. “I think she was just feeling a little emotionally overwhelmed, so…she held me until she calmed down, and then we went to bed. She said I should share her bed,” Adrien quickly turned himself in, cheeks blazing.

“And you said, ‘No. I owe it to myself to set boundaries’, right?” Sabine sighed, rolling her eyes because she already knew the answer.

Adrien hung his head.

“And yet you still ended up on the couch somehow,” Sabine observed, passing Plagg a bamboo shoot.

“I couldn’t sleep, and I was keeping her up, so I gracefully bowed out,” Adrien muttered. “…I’m not good at setting healthy boundaries.”

“You’re really not,” Sabine confirmed. “All right. So you two didn’t talk about the kiss?”

Adrien shook his head, piling some of the tofu and vegetables onto his toast and taking a bite. “I don’t think we’re going to either. It didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“No,” Sabine intoned firmly. “Don’t start that. You’re on a slippery slope, Adrien; don’t let yourself slide down it. It’s dangerous to shrug things like that off.”

“It wasn’t that kind of kiss,” Adrien insisted. “Don’t worry. I won’t allow myself to get dragged into any kind of friends with benefits situation.”

“She doesn’t believe you,” Plagg helpfully informed, tearing off a hunk of Adrien’s toast. “I don’t believe you either.”

Adrien glared at his kwami as he responded sarcastically, “Thanks, Mom and Dad…. It’s not like Marinette would be interested anyway.”

“Ah. We’re back to denial,” Plagg noted, scaling Adrien’s coffee mug to lap up a mouthful. “Your coffee’s getting cold.”

“I think the temperature is fine. It’s a good thing that it’s my coffee and not yours,” Adrien snickered.

“Adrien,” Sabine broke in. “Will you do me a favor?”

“Sure. What do you need?” he agreed readily.

“Get some closure for yourself. Stop keeping yourself in limbo,” she urged. “Promise me you’ll tell Ladybug that you’re in love with Marinette.”

“Tell Ladybug?” Adrien blinked rapidly.

Sabine nodded encouragingly. “Tell Ladybug. Say the actual words: ‘I am in love with Marinette Dupain-Cheng’. Promise me you’ll do that for yourself.”

“But…” Adrien squirmed on his stool. “What if she doesn’t like me?”

Sabine shrugged. “If you tell Ladybug, she can’t start acting strange as Marinette without giving away her identity, can she? …But you really need to do this, Adrien. You owe it to yourself to take this risk, and if she says no, I will personally drive you to London to help you get settled in. Okay?”

Adrien sat in silence, thinking about it seriously for a minute before he tentatively nodded. “Okay. I’ll…I’ll tell Ladybug…eventually.”

“Soon,” Sabine stressed.

“Soon-ish,” Adrien hedged.

He was saved from further argument by a loud thump from the attic above them.

“Sounds like my Sleeping Beauty is up,” Adrien chuckled, a love-struck expression settling comfortably onto his face.

“And she’s probably expecting Chat Noir to be down here, isn’t she?”

“Oh. Yeah,” Adrien chuckled nervously.

“That would have been the worst reveal ever,” Plagg hummed, happily munching a carrot slice, eating around the tofu.

“You ready, Plagg?” Adrien turned to his kwami.

Plagg sighed dramatically, letting everyone know just how put out he was. “I guess. Thank you for breakfast, Sabine.”

“Any time, Plagg,” Sabine assured as Adrien called on his transformation. “No matter how many times I see it, that’s always impressive.”

“Good to hear it,” Chat Noir chuckled, picking up his coffee mug and taking a sip.

“Now what were the plans you mentioned for tonight?” Sabine moved on to a more conversational subject. “Something fun or just work-related?”

Chat smirked. “Secret mission. It’s either going to go seamlessly or it’s going to blow up in my face…and then I’m going to need you to adopt me for real.”

Sabine’s features were just twisting into a deep frown of concern when Marinette opened her trapdoor and plodded down the steps.

“Ni hao, Meinu,” Chat sang, giving Marinette a winning grin that Sabine had thought he didn’t seem capable of until the minute her daughter entered the room.

Marinette paused, taken aback at first. Her face went red, but she shook her head and smiled, countering with, “Ni hao, Shuaige.”

“Your tones are terrible,” Chat laughed, switching back to French for Marinette’s benefit.

Marinette shrugged as she grabbed the third plate off the counter by the sink and took her place at the table. “It’s not my fault that someone decided to raise me as a French girl, denying me a part of my heritage.”

“It’s not easy to be biracial.” Sabine took a serene sip of her tea.

“It’s not easy to be biracial anyway, despite your parents’ best intentions, and feel like an imposter,” Marinette snorted, picking up what little remained of Plagg’s wheel of Edam and taking a bite. “You know, they have a word for people like me.”

“And it’s ‘beautiful’,” Chat interrupted, steering his two favourite women away from the sore subject.

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Is that, like, a common pickup line or something, ‘meinu’? Adrien’s called me that before too.”

Sabine snickered into her teacup.

Chat Noir attempted to derail that train of thought. “Where did you learn ‘shuaige’? Somehow, I doubt your mom taught you.”

Marinette paused with a forkful of tofu scramble halfway to her mouth. She blinked and then smiled when a plausible answer that wasn’t “Tikki” came to her. “Adrien,” she replied simply.

Chat had to chuckle. “Adrien? Why was he teaching you that?”

Marinette shrugged. “I asked him to teach me how to flirt in Chinese so that I could whip something out on you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Princess, you can flirt with me in French any time you want. You don’t have to practice flirting with Agreste in Chinese to impress me. I appreciate your efforts on my behalf, though. It’s really flattering that you’re so enamored of me,” he teased.

Marinette kicked him playfully under the table. “Sorry to disappoint, Minou, but I was only using you as an excuse to get Adrien to flirt with me.”

Chat feigned anguish. “Princess, am I not enough for you? Why would you cheat on me with that trashy model?”

Marinette gave his calf another kick. “Watch it. That ‘trashy model’ is my friend, and he’s an absolute Prince Charming.”

Chat shook his head sadly. “Sorry to break it to you, but your Prince Charming is a slut.”

“Language, Chat Noir,” Sabine mediated, trying not to choke in laughter on her tea. “That’s not a very nice thing to say about Adrien, and I’ll have you know that that boy is like a son to me.”

“Sorry, Mama Sabine.” Chat beamed at her before turning back to Marinette. “Anyway. I’m much better than Adrien Agreste. You should flirt with me instead.”

Marinette sighed down into her plate, grumbling, “I would say you two are actually in a dead heat at the moment.”

There was a rueful tone to her voice that Chat couldn’t parse.

Before he could ask, she looked up, eyes searching his. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he echoed.

She bit her lip, fidgeting but maintaining eye contact. “About last night.”

Chat tensed, and Sabine got to her feet to start on the dishes, giving them slightly more privacy without completely abandoning Chat.

“I’m really sorry,” Marinette mumbled, cheeks glowing champagne pink.

Chat waited for her to continue, for her to clarify that she meant she was sorry, but they couldn’t be friends anymore because it was too weird with his feelings for her.

When she didn’t qualify her “sorry”, he found himself asking, “What do you mean you’re sorry?”

“I’m…sorry about last night,” she rephrased, beginning to squirm in earnest.

He let confusion have free reign on his face. “I don’t remember there being anything you would need to apologize for. I mean, I think I should be the one apologizing.”

Her head tipped to the side. “What do you mean? You’re not the one who did anything.”

“Well, neither are you,” he riposted.

She pressed her lips into a tense line. “But…I’m sorry I made things weird.”

“I think that was me making things weird,” Chat chuckled darkly.

“I’m the one who was all clingy and emotional. I’m the one who started crying,” she protested.

“Yeah, well, I kissed you,” he challenged, putting it out there. If Sabine wanted them to talk about it, fine. They would acknowledge that the kiss had happened.

Marinette went pale, panic washing over her face like a tsunami. “Are you…apologizing…for the kiss?”

Chat opened his mouth, not sure what he was going to say before, “No?” left his lips. He cleared his throat and answered with more certainty, “No. No, I’m not.”

Marinette nodded, a little of the color returning to her cheeks. “Okay.”

“…Okay?” He couldn’t have heard her right.

Marinette shrugged, a little smile dancing on her lips as she went back to her breakfast. “Okay,” she reiterated.

He sighed in relief. “Okay.”

#Marichat #Adrienette #Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Chat Noir #Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Chat Noir #Adrien Agreste #Sabine Dupain-Cheng #Plagg #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Mikau's Writings #Processing

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danorth · 5 years

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So, this is gonna be long and one hell of a ride. NSFW or for anyone, really. And I may not be alive much longer, because I’m probably going to be murdered.I’m at the bar the other night, watching the Hall of Fame Game. After it’s over, I go over to charge my phone, and get one last drink before I Uber home. This girl sitting next to me, very attractive. Out of my league. Like wayyy out. I’m just scrolling through memes on my phone. And she asks me“hey! Can I trust you to watch my things and not drug me?”“Uhh what?”“Can you watch my stuff while I go pee and not drug me”to which the bartender said “oh you can trust Greg, he’s really nice”. Annnd this is where the bartender fucked up.Girl comes back from the bathroom, sits back down and started to talk to me. Just random shit. Showed pictures of our dogs to each other. Talked about shows n stuff. Typical ‘meet a girl at a bar’ flirting shit. She asks if I’ve ever seen the show Years and Years. I say “no, but I’ve seen the band perform live”. So she goes on about how great the show is, and how I need to watch it. Asks if I have HBOGO. “Yes because I forgot to cancel my cable after GoT”. So she makes me download the APP, so I could start watching it when I get home. Thanks for the recommendation! I’ll probably check it out never. So a few minutes later, she said“hey do you live close by?”“Yea, like half a mile”“we should go watch the show right now, we can curl up on your couch and watch it together. I have a bottle of whiskey in my car”“Idk, my house is kind of a mess right now”“That’s okay, I have pets too” (or something like that. All I was thinking was that this girl wants to bang at this point)“I mean I guess, but I have to be at work early tomorrow”“That’s okay, I can only stay 30-40 minutes and then I’ll have to go home” “That’s fine” heh, cuz that’s all the time I’ll need! AM I RIGHT, FELLAS??No. Nononono, this was probably one of the biggest mistakes of my life at this point.It’s about, 11pm at this point. I think? And mind you, I’ve only been talking this girl for maybe 20 minutes.So we tab out, get in her car. Which is a stick shift. And I say “oh no shit, I like you even more now! No one drives a stick anymore! I drive one every day!” Which I’m excited about, because at this point I’m thinking to myself “hmm this girl is hot, has tattoos, likes shows I like, and imma bout to get laid”We talked about driving a stick shift the whole time on the way to my house (this is important, because it wasn’t the first time that this subject came up). Which is just a half mile away. So was a short drive. She parks behind my car, blocking my car in.Go inside, I try to clean up a little bit as she meets and plays with my dog. While I try to get my Chromecast set up on my living room TV. Ya know, to “watch HBOGO”.She runs outside to her to grab the bottle of whiskey.It’s fucking Evan Williams.And this is the first time where an “oh no” thought crosses my mind.Kids, I’ve slept with some strange in my time. I don’t know how or why I get myself into these situations. I honestly feel that I’m a decent looking, charming, sometimes funny, nice person. Sure I troll the fuck out of people on the interwebs, but I do genuinely care about other people. Being nice does pay off, and karma is a real thing. But in this case, I was dead wrong.So after some talking about random shit. We get the show playing. I couldn’t even tell you what happened in the first few moments of that show, because she gets up grabs me by the hand, and leads me into my bedroom.Sex.So after, we’re just laying there. Pillow talk. Was a good night. I just got laid. She asked if she could stay the night. We’re gonna go to sleep. Everything is cool. I let her know that I have to be at work in a few hours, so I need to get some rest.Now, up to this point in the story, it all sounds like a great night. Pulled off another one night stand. high fives all around Right?Wrong.I say “that was great we should do this again sometime”“I don’t think so”“What why?”“I don’t think my husband would appreciate that”I am speechless. I don’t think I’ve ever felt my heart skip that many beats ever. Millions of thoughts crossed my mind all at once. Like, how the fuck did I not see this coming. Omg imma home wrecker. I’m probably gonna get shot of he finds out.Me: “Ummmmmmm WHAT? Is this an open relationship? Does he know where you’re at? Like, why didn’t you tell me that?”Her: “idk, does it matter?”“Uh yeah, I’d be pretty pissed if I was him”Now I’ve been cheated on before. And that feeling sucks. I’ve been in a similar situation like, 10 years ago. Where I didn’t know that I was sleeping with someone who had a bf at the time. I had found out a couple days later, and I found him on fb and let him know. He thanked me, and didn’t get mad at me at all. Cheating is the worse thing ever.So this is where shit starts to hit the fan. I don’t remember the exact conversation, but it went something like this:Her: “we’re getting separated soon”Me: “well you’re still fucking married to him”“Yea but that’s okay”“How is that okay?”“He’s been..... abusive”There’s a slight pause, then she starts crying. So this is where the sober me starts to kick in. This girl is struggling. She’s in a bad spot. And no one should ever lay a finger on a woman. And now I’m trying to empathize with this trashy Evan Williams drinking bitch. Like I legit felt bad from all the shit that she was telling me.Que the panic attack.She starts going nuts. Ripping posters off my wall, running around my house butt naked. Knocking shit over. Basically trashing my house.She asks me to get her medicine out of her purse. Which I do. She takes it. And calms down. (For the most part).Now this is like, 2 or 3 am now. I tell her that we need to go to sleep. Because I have to work in the morning. She tells me “(bartender) was right, you are a really great guy” Btw, Evan Williams isn’t that bad when you’re slightly inebriated and you just had sex with a crazy bitch.We finally get to sleep around 4? Maybe? I wake up late, she wants round 3. And who doesn’t like morning sex. I’m still kinda drunk at this point, and could give 0 fucks. So I gave her a fuck.Anyways, I need to leave for work. But her car is blocking mine. I tell her that she needs to move hers, but she can’t because she didn’t know where her clothes were. And told me I couldn’t move it because “I didn’t know how to drive it”“Uhh, this is the third time we’ve had this conversation. I drive a stick every day, I can move your car”I move her car. I leave for work. And I just let her stay at my house. I let her stay because one, the shit that she told me about her husband is pretty crazy. Two, I was already running late, and fuck it she’ll probably leave before I get home.A couple hours into my shift, she stops responding to my texts. I get concerned, because I’m starting to sober up, and piecing all this shit together. I came to the conclusion that I should find the husband on fb, and message him, letting him know what happened.... BUT, I see that she had already messaged him. FROM MY FACEBOOK ACCOUNT! My computer was still logged into fb when I left, and I didn’t think to log out or shut it off or anything.I tell my boss about everything that has happened up until this point. He lets me go home. When I get home, I find her still naked in my bed. I get her friend to get her an Uber. And I leave. Oh also had the sex one more time because 🤷‍♂️.Go back to work. Thinking everything is over. That’s the end of that. Wrong again.I get home from work, to find her on my couch wearing one of my shirts. And only that shirt. Like vag all out and everything. This girl is afraid to go home. Which I’m worried about at this point. Because I want her to go somewhere safe. She’s refusing to reach out to any friends and what not.Oh yea, she had me find her phone. Which had 40 something messages and 28 missed calls from her husband. And several others from other people.She hands me $20 to order a pizza. And after we eat the pizza, she’d Uber home. Fuckin bet. I ordered the pizza, and she wanted one last round of the sex before the pizza got there.I kid you not. I’m sitting on one end of the couch, her on the other. And she just opens her legs and says “make it quick”This bitch has already hit and kicked me, trashed my house, and I’m just ready for her to leave.Sex.After, we’re just sitting there, and she starts crying again. Asking to go home. And I’m like“I’ll get you an Uber home, but you gotta put pants on” “No”“What do you mean ‘no’? You can’t get in an Uber with your pussy out”“No”So I gather up all of her belongings and clothes. And try to help her get dressed. To which she refused to allow me to do.Most guys will agree, one of the hottest things ever... That “arch” thing that women do when you’re pulling their panties off is a fucking amazing feeling.I had the same feeling when I got her panties ON.Pizza arrives. I go outside, sign for the pizza n stuff. Come back inside. Panties are off again. God dammit.We never even opened the pizza box. She’s saying that she wants to go home. But is refusing to get dressed. I’m starting to panic myself. Because I don’t know how I got myself into this situation. But, am me.She eventually hands me her phone, with the conversation that’s she having with her husband. And I read through the conversation, it’s her sending multiple texts saying “I’m so sorry babe” “idk where I’m at” “come get me”. And him saying “nope sorry” “this is on you” and “call 911”That last one though. That’s what I did.Before I called 911, I offered to drive her car back to the bar where we met, because I knew the husband would give her a ride back there. And not to my house. Because now I’m starting to worry about my safety. I don’t want homeboy to show up on my porch with a shotty. But then again she states that “you don’t know how to drive my car” with it being a stick and all. Even though this is 4th or 5th time this was brought up in conversation.I told them that I have an inebriated woman in my house that is refusing to leave, even though she wants to leave. Etc. I tried to call our one mutual friend, (the bartender from the previous night) but she didn’t answer.The ~20 minutes before the cops arrived were the most awkward 20 minutes of my life. This girl is drunk crying. Trying to get me to go for yet another round. Where at this point, my dick hurts. Also, “girl you need to get dressed, you’re gonna be going home”Finally got her panties back on, I didn’t tell her that I had called the cops. I told her that the Uber was coming. And was trying to get her to put her pants on.Cops show up, I go outside. Explain the situation, was kind of freaking out. But I kept my calm. I told them that I was concerned about her safety, because of all the shit that she told me about her husband. But they can’t force her to go anywhere she didn’t want to. She wanted to go home. Officers ask if she was presentable. I pop my head back in the door. She’s still wearing my shirt and her panties. So I’m like “I guess?”, and then I let them in.She yells “are you fucking serious? You called the cops?” “Uh yea, you didn’t wanna leave. Even though you said you did. Plus your husband said to call 911, so that’s what I did”The officer said to her “you’re on this man’s property, and he wants you to leave”Que crying and what not.Cops ask me to gather all of her stuff. Which I do. Her husband calls her phone, so I accept the call, and then put it up to her face. Tell her to tell him what’s happening. And that she is getting an Uber home. Apparently her card and PayPal was getting declined for the ride. So she couldn’t do it herself. They live like 5 miles away from me, so it was only $8 or something. I live pretty close to downtown, so ordering a Lyft/Uber usually takes 2-3 minutes after calling for one. Once cops tell her that her ride is on the way, and gonna be here within 2 minutes... Girl finally decides to get dressed.I had to help a 30 year old woman put pants on... I could see the officer’s partner struggling to keep a straight face during that ordeal. Lol.Anyways, I hand her hat, keys, bra, shirt (she’s still wearing mine) to the officer. Made sure she had all of her belongings. We get her to walk out of my house to the Uber. But she tried to grab the bottle of Evan Williams. To where I audibly laughed. “I don’t think they’ll let you take that”Cops didn’t let her take it. She got in the Uber and she was gone. Policeman handed me the bottle back. Where I say “usually this is the other way around, ha”Po-po leave, I call it a night, and it’s over.Flash forward to today. I get a message from our mutual friend (the bartender) and she’s asking if crazy girls keys are at my house. I was at work at the time. So I wasn’t able to check. But I’m 98% certain I handed those over to the cops. I look for them when I get home. Found nothing.Oh, and this girls car is still parked across the street from my house.So that brings us to now. I haven’t heard anything from her. Or the husband. And I’m not sure if it’s safe for me to go home. But ya. Know what? Fuck it. I’m glad I could share this story with y’all. There might be more to come, but you’ll probably have to read about it in my obituary.The moral of the story is, drug every girl that asks you not to drug them at a bar. 😂Jk don’t do that.And don’t stick your dick in crazy.TLDR: Took a girl home who I didn't know was married. She trashed my house.Edit: I’m not gonna change “que” to “cue” because fuck you, deal with my mistakes while I deal with mine. via /r/tifu

#IFTTT #reddit #tifu

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sigritandtheelves · 6 years

Text

The I in Team

Part 5: Trust

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Rating: Mature Timeline: season 6 Tags: Angst-ish, but veering toward legit MSR Words: 2.2k (pt. 5)

A/N: Sorry it’s been a while! It was a tough week, and I got kinda sick on top of it. :( The format here is a little bit different than the other parts, but that’s because we’re rounding toward the end. I think maybe just one more part!?

_+_

A little after eight in the morning, he stood in front of her motel door, holding coffee and a bagged-breakfast, knocking gently with his boot. It took her a minute, but she appeared, wet-haired, in jeans and a black v-neck.

“Mulder,” she said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

He held up the coffee and brown paper bag in explanation, little smirk on his face, nervous. “The motel breakfast is pretty bad, so…” He scraped his boot on the concrete. “Can I come in?”

She gave him a look, squint-eyed, like what are you up to. She blinked, then stepped back. “Okay.”

In her room he set their breakfast on the table—her coffee done right, a strawberry croissant, her favorite. “This one’s yours,” he said.

The Florida sun was just warming the early day, grazing the window blinds to stripe the table where they sat. She sipped her coffee and it was good: two creams, no sugar.

“We’re gonna go to the thing today, okay? We’re gonna do it right.”

“We are?”

“Yeah.” He said, looking at her with all seriousness.

She eyed him, unsure. He was chewing his own croissant. “Why?” she asked. “You don’t really want to.”

He shrugged. “I don’t want to listen to some corporate smile-guy telling me to assess my strengths and weaknesses, telling us to align our synergy, or to learn how to build consensus, or any of that bullshit. But we’re off the clock here, pretty much. The world isn’t ending. We’re here together, the sky is blue, there are no monsters in sight, and there’s a nature hike later today. Let’s just… be people. Okay? See if we can?”

She pursed her lips, watched him try to wrangle that obsessive energy and turn it toward whatever this was, hovering between them. He was twitchy. Anxious, she saw, like he’d spent all night working up the courage for this.

“Okay,” she said after pause. But she kept wariness and suspicion in her back pocket. Like a child who’d been bitten by a dog, she was reluctant to stretch her fingers out toward it again.

He surprised her, then, by touching her hair, her cheek, by leaning forward. “I won’t lose you,” he said. “I won’t.”

She just nodded and kept her eyes on the table.

---

At some point, Mulder realized, his self-indulgent pity had become his last refuge and comfort. In his room he’d sat with the taste of her still on his lips, half-hard from the remembered feel of her pressed to him, and thought how he’d do just about anything to have a chance with her again. To have her trust him again. He’d hurt her, though he’d not known how much until tonight. Self-flagellation had felt good: fucking Diana out of anger and the narcissistic desire to hear someone, anyone, say I believe you in that way, holding Scully away from him in self-denial. Except that it wasn’t himself he was hurting anymore. Hadn’t ever been, really. He’d thought he was punishing himself for failing, for losing the X-Files again, for never ever having the right kind of proof... But the whole time, every minute of his selfish, senseless behavior, he’d really been hurting her. And for that… Christ, what a fucking piece of work he was.

The way he saw it, there were two ways forward. He could continue his unsuccessful campaign of denying, hating, and torturing himself over what an asshole he’d been… or he could do something about it and try loving someone for once in his miserable life, no matter how vulnerable it made him feel.

He’d looked at himself in the mirror. He’d actually stood in the motel bathroom and stared at his own pathetic mug and told himself to grow the fuck up right here and now because she wasn’t going to put up with any more of his bullshit. That stupid thing he’d written down this morning when he was being flip? That thoughtless answer he’d given to what he appreciated about her? Wrong. She doesn’t put up with it, and she won’t, and she shouldn’t have to. He looked himself in the eyes and thought, for whatever reason, she actually cares about you, and this is your last godforsaken chance at something good in this life and you are NOT going to fuck it up.

Then he forced himself to get six full hours of sleep, took a shower, and went to buy her breakfast.

---

When she’d finished her coffee, after sitting there without words, listening to her own breathing, she’d looked up at him and said “Okay,” a second time, and then, “Thank you for breakfast.” And there, on her scrubbed and freckled face, he saw the smallest trace of something that gave him hope.

Now they sat back-to-back on an ugly carpet with a bunch of other saps, doing something called a “blind-drawing exercise.” She was saying words that made little sense—directing him to draw shapes on a page that would add up to a picture, and he was fumbling to comply.

“Okay, now draw a triangle coming out from the midpoint of the long arc.”

“Like touching it?”

“Yeah, so the arc forms the shortest side and the farthest angle is acute.”

He bit his lip, concentrating. “Um, okay. I think I’ve got it.”

“Now a smaller arc that’s more of a circle, coming off the longer one at the left end, but make it kind of bulbus.”

“Scully, what the hell are you having me draw?”

She laughed, and her head fell back to touch his shoulder.

“No peeking,” he said.

“You either.”

And for the first time in what felt like months, they were both laughing, and yes, yes, she left her head there on his shoulder, and it made his heart pound and his hand shake. He could hear the smile in her voice as she told him things like “now a small black circle” or “another very small triangle, about a third the size of the bulb shape” and eventually, he had drawn something that almost made sense.

“Hey, is it a bird?”

“Mulder! Did you cheat?”

“No! Look!” and he turned around and showed her and she was laughing at his terrible bird, but he was right, he’d done it right, and it was a small but beautiful triumph.

“Now it’s my turn,” she said, still smiling. “Can I borrow your pencil?”

When she turned around again to draw, balancing her booklet on her knees, she let her back fall against his and kept it there, the heat of their bodies meeting at a single point. He tried to concentrate and describe the basic shape of a tractor (“A big circle and a little circle… some rectangles”), but couldn’t stop thinking that he was, maybe, for once, getting something kind of right.

There was a peace settling between them, a quiet presence like a low hum. Familiar. He recognized its gentle whir, remembered hearing it first rising in a damp motel room in Oregon, thought of its electric buzz at dozens of hospital bedsides, or its low-cycling resonance on late-night couches where they sat shoulder-to-shoulder. It was the sound of them, he thought. It was the sound of whatever this was that they’d forged together and almost lost. It was their trust, most of all.

---

In the woods again, no mothmen. No life-draining bugs. Just a compass for one and a map for the other.

“Hey, Indian Guide, which way is west?”

He held the compass flat: studied, turned, and pointed. They hiked.

A blue bandana held her hair back and dirt smudged her nose. He wanted to wipe it, kiss it off. Wanted to back her up against a tree and show her just how grateful he was for this second chance. He settled for supporting her arm as she scaled a tricky pass, for brushing his hand against her back while he held up a thin branch of prickles for her to pass under. She didn’t tell him no, didn’t glare. He tucked these moments away in his mind as small victories.

Then, on a steep slope, his foot slipped and he fell back against her, almost knocked her down, but she held him, held steady. “Whoa,” she said. “You okay?”

“I got it,” he said, grabbing a nearby branch for balance. He stilled—they both did, and her hand remained longer than it needed to, pressed warm to his chest. Her face was almost level with his on the incline, and they were suddenly just… looking. Lost in each other’s curious gaze, two people suddenly face-to-face with each other. His own hand, he realized, was on her hip, fingers curling at the waistband of her jeans. The air grew thick around and between them, but Florida humidity it was not. “Okay?” he asked, voiced pitched low, almost raspy, and she nodded, just a tiny dip of the head. His fingers tightened on her hip.

“Mulder,” she said.

His eyes fell closed and he clenched his jaw. “I know.”

“You trust me,” she said, a question in the form of a statement.

“You know I do.” Her fingers hadn’t moved, and his heart beat hard against her palm.

“I trust you with my life, Mulder. But not…” with my heart, she thought. Not yet. She watched his eyes and saw him understand.

“I can’t forgive myself, Scully. I won’t. And it’s so unfair for me to ask you to try.” His fingers again, their slightest movement at her waist—a thumb, just at the edge of her skin, like a match-head igniting her. “But I’m going to ask you to try. Let me show you that you can trust me.”

Emboldened with his words, two fingers joined his thumb at her hip. She let her palm slip in an almost-caress to wander past his collarbone, around the back of his neck. He was sweaty there, from the hike and the Florida warmth, and she was similarly damp, the weight of her pack pressing a line of sweat heavy to her shoulder. They were warmer here, of course, than they’d been in Antarctica, but no less alone in these woods, where the deep thrum of primal want began beating between them again. She yearned, suddenly, to lick the sweat clean from his jaw, to push him behind the thicket, into the rocks and dirt, and swallow him whole. She wanted to stamp him as hers and make him prove that he loved her. It was crazy. It was possessive madness, but she could tamp it down no less than she could her own blood beating.

“Scully.”

“Yeah,” she said, wondering how her voice got that way, so low, so heavy.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he said, and she couldn’t have stopped him if she’d wanted to because her body moved on its own, her traitorous hips driving toward his in the green green of that forest. His mouth came down on hers like a hot iron and she was already pulling it closer, opening her lips and begging him with her tongue. She couldn’t help it. God, she couldn’t help it. She wanted him so much.

His left hand let go of the branch to hold her face, to massage his love into her cheek. Believe me, it said. Believe me, I love you, while the other hand had abandoned the world of fabric for more patches of soft skin. They shifted to angle their bodies closer until they were falling into each other, into the needy press of this elemental substance that drummed up from the earth and into their veins, their hearts, their skins.

And then they were really falling. A rock unmoored from its earthy clutch, and their feet went out from under them, slipping, crashing through the underbrush and thicket, sliding down the hill and tumbling into the leaves and dirt. Mulder grasped her to him, sheltering her from prickles and thorns until they came to a stop, filthy and laughing, gasping on the woodland floor.

“Oh, Mulder,” she said. “Are you okay?” She touched his head first, his face, his neck, from her position splayed across his torso. She pulled a leaf from his hair, but it was his arms that were scraped, three lines of deep red along his forearms, where the sticker bush had nabbed him.

“I’m fine,” he said, still smiling. He cupped her face. “You?”

She nodded. “Fine,” and seemed to realize how they were positioned. She looked down at their bodies, at their rumpled clothes, at their legs entangled, and blushed. Before she could comment, could gather her composure and set them rational and right again, a voice called out from several yards away.

“You guys okay?” it asked. “Jeez, we saw that fall! Do you need first aid?”

Not so alone as they’d thought, it turned out. “We’re okay!” Mulder called, then quieter, to her, “Time to get up.” But before Scully could climb off him, he tugged her down, quick, for a kiss. It was no chaste thing, but wet and hot with relief and the adrenaline-thrill of their brief misadventure. “I’ll show you,” he whispered at her ear when he’d let her lips go. “I’ll show you how much I love you.”

And then he was helping her up, brushing off, reaching for the compass in his back pocket, hoping it hadn’t been cracked. “This way.” He nodded back toward the path.

Dumbstruck, a little wobbly, she followed.

(end part 5)

Go to Part 6: Reciprocation

#a thing i wrote #part 5 #msr #xf fanfic #season 6

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pheebs1864 · 6 years

Text

Without AmazingPhil

Warning: Smut +18

Phil never became a Youtuber so Dan never found him online. Dan never met Phil and he continued trying to get his law degree. One day, Dan visits a café.

Word Count: 2,687

Dan was attending the University of Manchester trying to get his law degree, the key word here was trying. He had been feeling so depressed this last year and he didn’t know how much longer he could go on like this. Going to the same school, talking to the same people, eating the same food, it was just so ordinary. He hated it.

As he walked back to his tiny little apartment in the middle of the busy city, he thought about life. He did that a lot, too much actually. He walked in the front door and flopped on to the carpet as he usually did and laid there for a while, thinking.

When he finally felt the grumbling in his stomach he sat up and walked to the kitchen. Now Dan could cook, there was no doubt about that, but he never felt like it. Day after day he would eat something basic like hot dogs or macaroni. Today he had cereal. That’s right cereal for dinner. Quite frankly he didn’t care. He grabbed the corn flakes from the cupboard and poured them into a little blue bowl. He walked to the fridge and grabbed the milk. He poured it over his cereal, which by the way is the right way to do it not this milk before cereal shit. He walked to the living room to watch YouTube on his laptop.

He sat down on his couch and grabbed his laptop, covered in stickers from out of his satchel (man purse). He opened it up on his lap and clicked on Google Chrome, typed in YouTube and all his subscriptions came up. Anthony Padilla, Markiplier, Joe Sugg, Tyler Oakley, Sprinkleofglitter, Pewdiepie, and a few more. These people were always there for Dan when he was down, and he preferred them to television. He plugged his headphones in and watched a couple new uploads. By the time he was done his cereal he was in the middle of one of Joe Sugg’s videos. He paused it to stand up walk to the kitchen and clean his bowl and spoon. He went back to his couch crease and resumed his scrolling position until late in the evening. He had a class at eight the next morning and he thought he’d better go to bed. He shut his computer and headed to his bedroom. He got undressed and threw on some Pikachu boxers before sliding underneath his black duvet. He checked his Twitter feed a couple of times, he closed his eyes and went to bed.

The next day wasn’t any better. He got up, went to class, talked to the same people, went home ate some gross, partly frozen meal and went on the Internet for his daily YouTube fix. Except there were no new uploads. Apparently, it was national go outside day or something so some Youtuber’s didn’t upload to promote healthy living, some shit like that. So, Dan sat there. What was he supposed to do now? Go outside?

I guess that would be okay, he decided to go for a walk. Maybe he would go to that new tea place his professor has mentioned. Dan didn’t like going for walks unless they had a purpose. To walk and not have a goal to get somewhere just didn’t make sense to him. Dan didn’t really like exercise or the outdoors, but he thought maybe he should give it a try. So, he started on his way, walking all along the campus until he reached the end. He pulled out his phone and typed Nearby Tea into Google maps. The third one from the top was the one his professor had mentioned so he followed its directions and headed Northeast to North Tea Power. It was about 1.4 miles according to Google, so Dan paced himself. He decided to take his time and look around at the city, it was actually quite beautiful. He never really left the campus because everything he needed was within its boundaries, so it was nice to explore for once.

It was springtime, so it was cool to see everything blooming. You know Dan was actually having a nice time just going for a walk until it started fucking raining. Like really? Dan thought, the one day I actually go outside and now all I want to do is go home. Dan ran to the nearest store front with a sheltered area to look at his phone and avoid getting totally soaked. The tea shop was only a block away, so Dan continued walking instead of waiting for the rain let up.

When he got to the shop five minutes later his hair was drenched and beginning to curl. His leather jacket repelled the water but that made the water drip down to his black skinny jeans, making them even tighter. He hung his jacket up next to some umbrellas and other jackets and went to stand in line. Dan looked up at the chalkboard menu above the barista’s head. There was a couple in front ordering, so Dan had a minute to decide.

“Ouch! What the fu-”. Dan began as the man behind him started to apologize as he steadied himself.

“I'm so sorry! I'm so clumsy, I just tripped on the floor. Are you okay? I’m sorry.”

Dan just started to laugh. He knew it was probably rude, but this guy was too adorable. He was a 6’2” pale emo boy with a black fringe. Dan gathered himself and told the tall boy he was fine.

“I'm Phil.” he said reaching out his hand out very awkwardly.

“Dan” he answered, returning the awkward handshake.

The two of them stood there for a minute before Dan could hear the barista calling next. He went up to the counter and ordered the “special” which was some green tea ice frappe something or other because he didn't actually look at the menu. As Dan reached into his pocket to fetch his wallet the emo boy that ran into him earlier put his hand on Dan’s shoulder. He passed him in line order something of his own and paid for both.

Phil turned his head to look at Dan with a smile, “It's the least I can do.”

God this guy is cute Dan thought as he sat across from Phil at a table he had chosen to sit and drink their beverages together. Dan thought it would be rude to go sit by himself after Phil had bought it for him.

“Thank you again” he said, not really knowing what else to say. Phil just responded with a smile. Dan looked out the window not wanting to hold eye contact longer than normal and saw that it wasn't raining anymore.

“Hey, would you want to go for a walk?” Phil asked. Dan did not expect that, was Phil flirting with him? Did Dan want him to be? Just fucking answer him, you look like an idiot just staring. Dan thought but damn he could get lost in those blue eyes for hours.

“Dan?” Phil asked, looking at him a little concerned.

“Oh, uh yeah, I mean sure. That sounds like fun.”

Dan thought it was so weird that this man he barely knew asked him to “go for a walk”. Who does that? Dan could have been some kind of pedophile/tramp/polar bear for all he knew, but he is not, and the walk was actually nice. They walked down the street drinking their beverages, making small talk like new friends would. It was nice to have someone to talk to.

Dan eventually had to tell Phil that he had to head back to campus. Before he left Phil asked for his phone number. Dan was hesitant at first giving this almost stranger anything real, but he looked into those innocent eyes. He could always change his number if Phil ended up being a cannibal.

A few days passed, and Dan got a phone call from an unknown number. He answered to hear a nervous Phil on the other end.

“Hi, uh Daniel? It’s Phil, I was wondering if you wanted to go see How to Train your Dragon?”.

Dan’s heart skipped a beat. First of all, no one called him Daniel but hearing Phil say it he liked it, second of all, this is a date, right? Is Phil even gay? He was so confused. “Yes!” Dan said too enthusiastically. Dan was surprised with his own words. He didn’t expect to answer so quickly but his heart took control for a minute.

Phil sounded really happy, but he was obviously trying to hide it and pass it off as the “cool dude”. “Okay cool! I’ll meet you at the theatre at eight forty-five.” he said, before he hung up abruptly.

Dan texted him after asking which theatre and they both had a laugh.

It was 8:40 and Dan kept checking his watch as he stood outside the theatre waiting for Phil. He wore his good button up black shirt, black skinny jeans and white Vans. He tried on so many outfits before he decided on what he always wore.

Why am I so nervous? he asked himself. Should I have brought flowers? Who pays? Do we hug? Oh lord it’s been a while since I’ve been on a date.

Then he saw Phil. As he stepped out of the taxi Dan’s mind went completely blank. He watched as the tall boy in the leather jacket walked up to him.

“Hey Daniel. You ready to go? I got the tickets online, but do you want some popcorn or something?”

He seemed so much more confident than on the phone earlier and it was kind of turning Dan on. Dan just smiled, “ummm, you like Maltesers?”

They sat down in the back of the theatre even though no one else was there. Dan thought he saw an older couple in the front, but it was pretty much dead other than that. They got settled and the movie started.

About half way through Phil reached over and Dan assumed he wanted some Maltesers but as he moved his hand to offer him some Phil rested his hand on his thigh. Oh my lord. Jesus help me, Dan thought. He just about jumped in his seat but he restrained himself. Okay this was definitely a date. I mean they were flirting all night and a couple times their hands touched over popcorn, but Dan thought it was too good to be true.

Dan looked over at Phil who was casually watching the movie eating popcorn with the other hand. While Dan over here was silently freaking out. What do I do? Am I supposed to react? He admitted it did feel pretty good.

Right as Dan began to settle down and focus on the movie again, although he had no idea what was going on because his mind was otherwise occupied. Phil decided that he’d start to move his hand upwards. UPWARDS. Dan’s now growing erection was not helping him stay calm. He was frozen. Apparently, Phil just wanted to give Dan a mini heart attack because he stopped right before he hit anything other than thigh.

Dan slightly in shock of what his mind just went through looked at Phil. Phil looked back at him and without hesitation, Dan leaned in and kissed him. Before Dan could regret anything and pull back Phil leaned in. He tangled his fingers in Dan’s hair as he slid his tongue across his lower lip. Dan opened his mouth slightly allowing Phil to explore his mouth. Phil, adjusting his angle placed his hand on Dan’s crotch. Dan moaned into their kiss.

Phil pulled away and smiled at him. “Oh, you like that?” He pushed down a bit harder making Dan bite down on his lip to keep another moan from escaping his lips. Phil seemed to like that reaction. He grabbed Dan and forcefully pulled him onto his lap so they were face to face. He brought him closer for another kiss and with his other hand he started to undo Dan’s belt. Dan pulled away, “Phil, I don’t know if this is a good idea, somebody could hear us or –”. Dan was cut off by Phil pulling his head backwards leaving his neck exposed. He kissed his way up Dan’s neck and whispered into his ear, “Then you better be quiet.”.

Dan didn’t know what he was more turned on by, the fact that Phil was so dominant or that they were in the middle of a movie theatre. Phil looked at Dan for approval. Dan shook his head and that’s all Phil needed. He undid Dan’s pants the rest of the way and motioned for Dan to take them off. Once they were off Dan was standing in front of Phil in just his boxers and a button-up shirt. Phil grabbed Dan by his hips and placed him back on his lap. Dan hadn’t notice till now that Phil was now free from his trousers. His cock fully erect and inches away from Dan. Phil kissed Dan again, more forcefully, nipping his lower lip as he began palming him through his boxers. Dan moaned into Phil mouth as he unwilling thrusted into Phil’s hand. Phil took that as a good sign as he pulled Dan’s boxers down and gripped his throbbing cock already slicked with precum. “Is that all for me?” Phil asked as Dan crumbled beneath his grip. Phil moved his hands away from Dan’s cock with a disappointed whimper from Dan before slicking himself with Dan’s precum. Phil got Dan to stand slightly as he positioned himself. “Need to stretch me first. Please Phi-“ Dan was pushed down onto Phil’s cock as he covered Dan’s mouth to keep him from screaming. Dan was so happy that he had fucked himself with his dildo before class that morning or that would have hurt a lot more. Oh god it felt good. Phil took a minute to adjust himself before beginning to move.

“Ahh… yes… please, please.”

“What are you asking for Daniel? Speak up princess.”

“Harder. Need you. Please Daddy.”

Dan didn’t mean to say that, he sometimes watches a bit too much porn, but he didn’t regret saying it because Phil absolutely lost it. He pounded Dan’s ass so hard that he would be surprised if either of them could walk the next day. Phil moved slightly adjusting and

“Oh Fuck!”

Phil hit Dan’s spot just right and Phil knew it. “Gonna cum for me baby? Right here, all over your pretty stomach. Let me lick it off you?” He thrusted into Dan’s ass.

“If you cum right now I’ll fill your tight hole up nice.”

With that Dan came all over himself in the middle of a semi-empty movie theatre. Dan now coming down from his high was still being pounded by Phil. He moaned, “You take my cock so nice Daniel. Such a good boy.” Phil whispered into Dan’s ear.

Phil looked at Dan as if to ask permission one more time before cumming into Dan. He pulled Dan off him and handed him his boxers. Dan looked around for a napkin to clean some of the cum off his stomach and as he picked one up Phil stopped him “Put your clothes on. You’re a filthy boy and you deserve to stay like that till I get you home.”

Dan obeyed and got dressed. They waited till the movie was over and Phil got them a cab. He even opened the door for Dan. What a gentlemen Dan thought to himself. They got out of the cab and Phil walked Dan to his dorm. “I had a good time.” Phil commented. “Me too.” Phil kissed him on the forehead and left. Dan closed the door behind him, slid down the door and sat. “I’m going to marry that man.” He smiled to himself.

#dan and phil games #phil lester #phil micheal lester #daniel james howell #danisnotonfire #amazingphil #dan howell #daniel howell #phanfiction #phandom #phan #phan smut #fanfic

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fandammit · 6 years

Text

Loss like the sharp edges of a knife (4/7)

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 ////// Part 5 || Part 6

[A/N: I hope you wanted 3300 words of David and Frank being bros, because that’s basically all this is. Shoutout to @fabledshadow for the suggestion that Frank would’ve wanted Mrs. Abaya to be a Marine Sergeant rather than an Army one!]

He pulls up at David’s house two weeks later during the middle of the day, Gracie curled up in the passenger seat of his truck.

It looks the same as when he last saw it all those months ago on Thanksgiving Day, right down to the fact that the same red Honda Odyssey is sitting in the driveway. He sits in the driver’s seat for close to ten minutes, his hand on the steering wheel, casting sideway glances towards the house. His hand goes to the keys about three different times, and he nearly turns the ignition over the third time around -- but then Gracie sits up in the seat next to him and gives him a look that he swears is disapproving and he ends up dropping his hand and sighing heavily.

“Yeah, alright, alright, Gracie,” he mutters, reaching over to give her a scratch underneath her chin. She lets him give him a few scratches before she licks his arm, then turns in the seat and faces the window, glancing back at him once with what seems to be an encouraging look before turning back around again.

He grunts, thinks that the fact that he’s ascribing very human, complex emotions to his dog probably points to the very reason that he needs to get his out of this truck rather than turning it back on and driving away.

He gets out of the truck and goes around to let Gracie out. She jumps down from the seat, landing softly on the ground next to him and trotting out in front of him as far as the leash will let her. She stands in the middle of the street, tail wagging, and looks back at him. He sighs, then walks to where she’s standing, keeps walking forward until he’s on the sidewalk in front of David’s house.

He stares at the front door but makes no move to walk towards it. He lets his gaze drift across it, then to the front two windows, the manicured lawn, finally landing back on the car next to him. He vaguely remembers a memory from those months in the basement, David admitting to the fact that he was never really the type of guy that checked the oil or made sure to take the car in for regular checks, but that if he had the chance, he’d always make sure to the type of guy who did both those things.

He huffs at the memory, notices that the front window of the car is down and decides to take a moment to see if David made good on his promise. He reaches over, opens the door and pops the hood. He’s unscrewed the cap to the oil when he hears the front door open and realizes that he can recognize David’s shuffling kind of walk coming down the driveway.

“Hey, Frank,” David says, coming into view around the other side of the car.

He glances over at David, notices that his hair is a little shorter than when they last saw one another, his beard a lot more trimmed and manageable. He’s wearing a sweater and dark jeans, has the look of a man who’s spent the last six months rebuilding his life, reinhabiting the role of husband and father all over again.

He checks his own heart and recognizes the envy pulsing in the corner of it, but also the sense of satisfaction and happiness that’s laid out on top of it.

He nods in the other man’s direction.

“David.”

“Uh - what are you doing?”

He lifts the oil dipstick in his hands and raises a brow, as though it’s not at all strange for him to show up at David’s house after nearly half a year of no contact and check the oil in his car.

And maybe it isn’t really, or it at least isn’t in terms of their friendship, because David just lets out a small laugh then nods.

“So, I haven’t actually been checking the oil.”

The corner of his mouth turns up as he wipes down the dipstick and replaces it again.

“Yeah, I noticed.”

They’re both quiet for a moment, Frank focused on checking the oil in the car, before David clears his throat and glances down at Gracie before looking back up at him, an amused expression on his face.

“If I had known that you’d show up out of the blue one day with a mascot, I might’ve been more motivated.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Mascot?”

David gestures towards Gracie.

“A black dog with a broad chest that has a white splotch on it? It’s a little on the nose, Frank.”

He scoffs and tries to level a glare at David, but he must either be out of practice or it must have completely lost its effect on him, because David just chuckles.

He replaced the oil cap, scrubs a hand across the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I - that’s not why I got her.” He reaches down to scratch Gracie on her haunches. “She ran up to me first. It was, uh, one of those - an adoption event in the park I run at. Wasn’t even really looking for a dog when it happened, but - .” He shrugs. “She was a good fit for me.” He glances up at David, who’s looking at him with a curious expression on his face. “Shelter told me she was rescued from a dog fighting ring - that she’d gotten passed over a lot cuz of that. Stupid, cuz she's a sweet dog.”

David purses his lips, squints at Gracie.

“So a dog that looks like that, with that backstory, just ran over to you while you’re randomly running at the park one morning?”

He nods.

David huffs a laugh.

“I guess God isn’t really much for subtlety, yeah?”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a grin.

“Guess not.” He glances down at Gracie then back up at David. “The lady runs the shelter - older lady named Mrs. Abaya - one who helped me get all set up with Gracie?”

David nods, shifting his feet a little as Frank turns to lean against the car.

“She’s talking to me and lady reminds me so much of my mom, you know? Not an inch over five feet, smiled a lot - but just had this look like she knew all about your bullshit and wasn't having any of it.”

It's an impression that's only been strengthened by his twice a week obedience classes at the shelter. He’s come to find that she’s equally as adept at training people as she is at training dogs and thinks that the shelter is one of the best run places he’s ever seen. In the two short weeks since he’s been taking Gracie to classes, he’s seen her stare down a heavily tattooed biker-looking man three times her weight and twice her size and watched her reform even the most spastic of dogs.

He’s also found out that she has a daughter in the Army JAG in addition to an Army Ranger son, and had asked at the end of the last class -- after seeing her get eight different dogs and twelve different humans to immediately snap to attention when she’d called out a stern command -- if she was sure she hadn’t ever been a Sergeant herself.

That had earned him a loud, genuine laugh from her, then a soft pat on his stubble roughened cheek.

“You know, my kids - they always said I should’ve been the one to go into the army rather than their father,” she’d said, smiling at him. “But I think the Army would not have been able to handle me - what do you think, Peter?”

The way she’d said his name -- a kind of maternal fondness that he hadn’t until recently realized he even missed -- made him smile as he nodded down at her.

“I think you would’ve been too good for Army, Mrs. Abaya. But I think you would’ve been a fantastic Marine Gunnery Sergeant.”

He clears his throat, shaking himself out of his musing to continue his story to David.

“So, she’s telling me Gracie's not into other dogs so much but she’s loyal and smart, talking 'bout how dogs are good for loneliness and worry and all that shit, and she mentions that she's got a son.” He shakes his head and looks over at David with a wry grin. “Guy’s an Army Ranger for the last fifteen years and his name is Francis.”

David blinks rapidly, a broad smile breaking on his face before he chuckles and nods his head slowly at Frank.

“No shit?”

Frank lets out a short laugh.

“No shit.”

David laughs and crosses his arms in front of him. “Well, then I guess you had to take her, right? I mean, you’re stubborn but you’re not dumb. It’d be, like, uh - bad for your juju if you hadn’t adopted her.”

“I think my juju’s probably already pretty fucked,” he says dryly. “But I was thinking about getting a dog anyway and like I said, she was a good fit.”

David nods.

“So, new dog, new truck, anything else I should get an update on?”

Frank shrugs.

“Not really.” He squints at the disappointed look on David’s face. “I - uh - joined a boxing gym.”

“Because you’re a guy that really needs to learn how to fight, right?”

Frank scoffs at him, before reaching up and unhooking the stand from the hood of the car and letting it drop back down with a loud thud.

“Curtis said - uh - that I need, that I should try to stop living my life like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop all the time, so -.” He lifts one shoulder, before leaning back down on the hood on the car. “Trying to keep busy. Group with Curtis, fights at the gym, training with Gracie.” He smirks across the hood of the car at David. “Here, trying to make sure you don’t run your cars to shit.”

David gives him a long, inscrutable look, like he’s waiting for him to say something else. When Frank doesn’t, he just blows out a breath and gestures to the car.

“So, uh, I think the oil needs to be changed in that car too, yeah? If you want to come back in a few days.” When Frank nods, he glances at the house, then back at Frank. “I work from home, so I’m always here. Kids and Sarah don’t start coming home until 4:00 most days.”

Frank nods, then reaches down to scratch Gracie behind the ears. She indulges him for a moment, then walks over to where David’s standing and looking up at him expectantly. David just stares at her for about fifteen seconds before she tilts her head and gives a short snort, the expression on her face something akin to impatience.

David laughs and leans down and frames her head on either side with his hands, his fingers scratching along her neck and underneath her ears. If Frank didn’t know better, he’d say the look on her face is something approaching smug.

“She is a weirdly expressive dog.”

Frank grins.

“Thank God you think so, too. I was beginning to think that I just wasn’t spending enough time with people.”

“Well, that’s probably true, too.” David gives Gracie one last good scratch behind the ears before he stands up and crosses his arms in front of him, clearing his throat as he rocks back on his heels.

“So, what about Karen, Frank?”

Frank purses his lips, looks away from David as he answers.

“She knows I’m alive.”

David scoffs, then shakes his head.

“What, did you drop off another pot of flowers and a box of bullets to let her know you were ok?”

Franks blinks rapidly, a scowl flashing across his features before the expression softens to something that’s halfway sheepish.

“Jesus Christ,” he says, shaking head as he rubs his hand across the back of his neck. “We spent way too much time together in that basement.”

“Maybe.” He blows out a breath. “Probably.” He crosses his arms in front of him. “So, I’m taking that as a no?”

Frank raises an eyebrow. David sighs.

“A no that you haven’t talked to Karen beyond leaving her flowers or bullets or books or whatever shit you can tell yourself isn’t a romantic gesture on her windowsill.”

He shakes his head, and there’s something both annoying and comforting at the fact that David knows him as well as he does and is no longer afraid to verbalize it.

“It’s - I don’t - It’s not the right time, yet.”

David looks over at him skeptically.

“Is it ever going to be, Frank?”

He doesn’t say anything to that, just reaches up to rub a hand the edge of the beanie that Karen gave him. Even though he’s basically worn it every day since she gave it to him a little over a month ago, there’s still a warmth that blooms in his chest every time he reaches up to touch it. It’s a reminder that she’s real, that she does more than just exist as some sweet memory -- that she thinks of him, wants him warm and wrapped up in some way by her.

That she should still think of him, that she should regard him with anything approaching affection or tenderness or warmth sometimes feels like nothing short of a miracle.

Suddenly he’s struck by the fact that it’s been six months since he last saw her, that his last glimpse of her is associated with a throbbing in his shoulder and an ache in his chest.

There’d been a steeliness to her gaze that he’d admired, even as he could see the tears pooling in her wide, blue eyes. It’s a look that he holds close to his heart, that he brings out and falls into on nights when he has trouble sleeping. It’s a look that perfectly encapsulates her -- the strength and softness of her, not warring or at odds -- but coexisting side by side, one strengthening the other rather than lessening it.

He sighs heavily, his fingertips tracing over the knit of the beanie before he drops his hand and stuffs them both into the pockets of his hoodie.

“Remember what you said to me -- that night we both got drunk? When we, when you - uh - when you first suggested that we go to Madani?”

David gives him a long, pensive look.

“I said a lot of things that night, Frank. Most of them I didn’t mean.”

Frank shrugs.

“Maybe.” He gives David a sidelong glance. “You said that I had nothing but a war inside of me.” He bites his lip, chews on it for a moment before continuing. “That was true - when you said it. Some days, I think it still might be.”

David nods, then tilts his head over at Frank.

“I get that. But Frank, all this,” He gestures to Gracie, to the car, to the space between them. “Someone who only has a war inside of them -- they don’t do stuff like this.”

Frank makes a noncommittal sound deep in his throat before he shrugs his shoulders.

“I still have dreams sometimes, you know? Ones where Billy gets away, or - .” He swallows thickly. “Ones where Lewis lets go of that damn bomb switch and I can’t save Karen.” He draws in a sharp breath, has to clench his fist in the fabric of his hoodie to keep it from shaking. “And I wake up screaming and hateful and just - I wake up ready to go to war, David.” He shakes his head. “There’s a part of me that’s still preparing for the bottom to drop out. It’s - it’s, there’s still too much of me that feels like it’s at war, that expects it.”

He cuts off before he says the rest of what he’s thinking - something about building an after that he can be proud of, about building himself back up until he’s more man than war, about being someone worthy of that combination of softness and steel without feeling like he’s sullying it with the blood on his hands.

Again, he’s reminded of just how well David knows him, now -- reminded and is thankful for it, because David seems to understand all that goes unsaid anyway. Studies him with a serious, sad expression before he breathes out heavily and nods, one shoulder lifting in a half shrug.

“I get that, Frank. I get it. Just - .” He bites the side of his lip, before he sighs and nods at Frank. “Come by on Tuesday, alright? You can help me change the oil on my car and we can have a beer and watch baseball or whatever and act like we didn’t spend a stupid amount of time hiding from the feds and living in a basement together.”

Frank gives David a small smile before he nods.

“See you, David,” he says, clicking his tongue in Gracie’s direction and waiting for her to trot over to him. He glances back over at David. “You’ll have a jack? I’ll bring over the oil and drain pan.”

David nods slowly.

“I’ll have a jack.”

The corner of Frank mouth quirks up.

“You’re gonna to go out and buy a jack, aren’t you?”

David grins.

“I am definitely going to go and buy a jack, yeah.”

Frank chuckles, then reaches over to smack David lightly on the chest before he turns to go.

“See you Tuesday, David.”

“Hey - uh - Frank?” He calls out when Frank is at the end of his driveway

He turns around, raises an eyebrow. David shuffles his feet, one, then the other, his hands gripping the insides of his hoodie pocket.

“I just want you to know - I have those dreams, too. Ones where we didn’t get to Sarah and Zach in time, or we never got Madani on our side. And I wake up angry and screaming, ready to do God knows what.”

Frank gives him a long look, then nods.

“Yeah?” David nods. “So, what do you do?”

“I roll over and hug Sarah, hold her and remind myself over and over again what actually did happen. That she’s safe, that she’s here, in my arms.” He holds his hand up, stopping the words that he can see rising up from Frank. “And I know it’s different between you and Karen. I know that it’s - it’s whatever it is.”

He takes a few steps in closer to Frank, looks at him intently, his normally languid pattern of speech turning animated and quick the longer he speaks, as though he anticipates Frank will interrupt him at any time.

“But I know - I mean, I think, it’s a mistake for you to wait until you let go of that war inside of you. I think seeing her again - I think sitting down, talking to her, having a conversation that doesn’t involve revenge or mortal peril or the names of men that are dead or thought to be dead or are soon to be dead - that’s gonna be the best way to stop having those dreams. Because it’ll remind you of what is, rather than what might’ve been.” He takes a deep breath in, levels a weighty stare at Frank. “Seeing her again, Frank - it’s the only real way to remember that there’s more than just a war inside of you.”

He takes in the flat look on Frank’s face, and puts both his hands up in front of him. “And that’s all I’ll say about that.”

Frank snorts and shakes his head, though he has to press his lips together to keep the edges of his mouth from turning up.

“I really doubt that that’s all you’re gonna say about it but - .” He shuffles his feet, rubs his hand across the edge of his beanie. “Thank you,” he finally says after a long pause. He’s not sure if he believes David because of how much he wants to see Karen again or because he actually thinks David is right; understands that either way, David is motivated by nothing but the desire to see him happy.

“I’ll see you Tuesday, David.”

David nods at him and gives a lazy wave.

“See you Tuesday, Frank.”

#frank castle #kastle #david lieberman #the punisher #the punisher fic #my fic #fic: loss like the sharp edges of a knife

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prettyfunkyunorganized · 6 years

Text

Daughter Series - Soldier 76 pt. 3

It's our favorite silver-haired soldier and his baby girl again! This might not be my best work, it just wasn’t flowing quite like I wanted, but I like it pretty well now.

It’s basically 2,300ish words of fluff and then Talia coming out at a lesbian. The ever sweet @envy-kitty and I were talking about this a while ago, so hopefully I did it justice :)

More Daughter Series: Hanzo, McCree, Reaper, Soldier 76, Genji, Roadhog

Soldier 76 installments: pt 1, pt 2, pt 3

masterlist

Solider 76 was still struggling to find a balance between wanting to keep his anonymity and wanting to stay close to his daughter. Once the rest of her team had found her in the alley, battered and bruised but rescued, he’d managed to slap his mask back on and keep his identity hidden from Reinhardt. Lena had agreed to keep his secret from the others, but she sure didn’t like it. Having both Tracer and Mercy give him a disapproving look was miserable, but 76 stood his ground. He’d helped get his daughter to the plane and begrudgingly watched as they flew away, an ache in his chest as Talia disappeared out of sight.

Now, a month later, he still missed her terribly, but the little messages she sent every day helped. Ana was incessantly nosy about them, but nonetheless, he smiled behind his mask every time Natalia’s name came up in his inbox. Tonight, however, they finally had the chance to video chat – 76 was hunkered down in a little safehouse, and Talia was free from her Overwatch obligations. The old soldier had been anxiously watching the clock all day.

“Any minute now,” he murmured just before the ‘call received’ logo popped up. He tapped the button on the little monitor in a flash. Talia was laughing at him the next second.

“Jeez, you picked up quick,” she grinned, “were you just sitting there waiting for me?”

“Yes, yes I was,” he replied. “That’s all I’ve done all day.”

She squinted at him thoughtfully. “You’re not good at downtime, are you?”

He chuckled, “Not really, but I was twice as impatient today. It’s good to see you again, kid.”

Natalia gave him a look. “It would be nice to see you, too. If only you didn’t have that big ol’ screen on your face.”

“Right,” he said placing his mask to the side. “Sorry, kiddo. I forget I have this thing on sometimes.”

“You forget? How on Earth do you forget that there’s something suction cupped to your face,” she scoffed playfully.

“Hey, I sleep in this thing, Talia. It’s basically a part of me now.”

Her smile grew devious. “Soooo does your morning breath gets trapped in there? Ick.”

The greying man burst out laughing. “No, Natalia. It has a filter for that.”

“What?! No way! That’s ridiculous!”

“Well, the filter isn’t for that specifically, but for contaminant control and whatnot.”

“Oh,” she said, “that makes more sense.” Still shaking her head in amusement, Talia adjusted herself and moved the monitor she was looking at. She looked uncomfortable, surrounded by a white room with bright lights and nothing on the walls.

“Everything okay, kid,” 76 asked worriedly.

“I’m good,” she said quickly, “why?”

“It looks like you’re in a doctor’s office or something,” he said, craning his neck in a futile attempt to look around Natalia’s surroundings.

She swiveled around with a frown. “It’s just my bathroom, 76, no biggy.”

“Oh,” he said awkwardly, “my bad. No offense.”

Talia giggled, “None taken. I don’t decorate much, so it is pretty sparse in here.”

“Wait,” Solider 76 said after a moment to think, “why are you calling me from the bathroom?”

“Uh,” she hummed with feigned sweetness, “promise you won’t be mad?”

He was equal parts apprehensive and concerned. “What’s going on,” he asked slowly.

“Alright, so, I might have kinda sorta scheduled a date for tonight, too.”

Solider 76 couldn’t quite hold back his disappointed sigh. “Oh. I see. That’s fine. I suppose that’s what I get for making you wait so long to spend time with me.” The moment that sentence left his mouth he regretted it. He had no right to guilt trip her. Before he could apologize Talia blurted out her own explanation.

“I swear I’m not trying to blow you off or anything, I promise,” she began, looking mortified. “I just don’t get a whole lot of time off, and I thought I’d try to – ”

“Natalia, honey, it’s okay! I shouldn’t have said that. You can do whatever you want with your time, I’m just glad I get to see you at all. If you need to go – ”

“I don’t need to go! We still have at least half an hour to hang out, I just might be curling my hair at the same time,” Talia said toying with her ponytail bashfully.

“Kiddo, you do whatever you got to do. As long as I get to sit here and pretend I’m with you, I’m happy,” the old soldier said softly.

“Thanks for understanding, 76. I’ve missed you,” she responded sappily.

“Of course I understand. I used to run that place, after all, and I definitely remember how precious those days off were. And I’ve missed you too, Natalia.”

She beamed and ruffled her long hair. She was so beautiful with those clear blue eyes, paler than his, but the same shape. Almost overly pretty. The fatherly instincts 76 didn’t know he had kicked in. “About this date . . .”

Talia pursed her lips, and her shoulders slumped. “Oh god,” she groaned.

“Please tell me you’re not seeing one the other Overwatch members. Please, please tell me it's not someone I know. Like McCree. Or Genji.” The aging man grimaced with his whole body.

“No, it’s not McCree,” his daughter laughed, “and what’s wrong with Genji? He’s such a nice guy.”

“YOU’RE GOING OUT WITH GENJI?! I – wha – when – isn’t he quite a bit older than you?!”

Natalia nearly fell off the counter she was laughing so hard. “Chill, old man, I’m not going out with Genji, and I’m not seeing anyone on the base.”

“Good,” 76 huffed, sinking into his chair. Then he snickered. “Jesse would be so upset if he heard you defending Genji and not him.”

“Yes he would,” Talia giggled. “He can be so pouty.”

“He’s always been like that . . .” Soldier 76 had far too many memories of McCree worming his way out of punishments with nothing but his long lashes and big puppy dog eyes. Good memories, funny memories. “I know I probably shouldn’t be happy to hear you’re not seeing anyone I used to work with, but I am,” 76 continued “I should probably be telling you that as long as someone treats you right, I’m happy, but that’s just not true. I’m shallow like that.”

“I appreciate your honesty,” she snorted. “And relax, it’s just a first date – little more than hanging out.”

“When are you leaving,” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant and not overwhelming.

“In a bit.”

“Where you going?”

“Local bar.”

“You going to keep your tracker on?”

“Well yeah, it’s protocol to – are you going to track me on my date?! Oh my god! Do NOT do that,” she shrieked.

That was absolutely his plan. “I just want to make sure nothing happens to you!”

“I swear on everything that is holy if you track me while I’m out there I will find you and – ” she waved her curling iron around, trying to find a good insult. “Look, I’ll find you and make you regret it somehow.”

“I’m terrified,” 76 said sarcastically with a wide grin.

“You better be,” Talia said flushing. “But seriously, don’t be weird tonight. I can always send an alert to the base if something goes wrong. I’m also a highly trained military woman, too, ya know.”

“I know, but still,” he said squirming, “I’m supposed to worry about you. You’re my – ” Even after their heart to heart, it continued to be hard for him to say ‘his daughter’ out loud. He didn’t know why. He adored Natalia, he did but . . . something kept holding him back.

Talia seemed unfazed by his hesitation, thankfully, just saying, “It’s nice to know you’re out there thinking about me, but you don’t need to worry so much. I’m a big girl, 76, clean my own gun and everything. And my taser.”

Soldier 76 tilted his head. “I’ll keep that in mind. And seriously? A taser?”

“I’ve done a lot of hand-to-hand combat and all that, but let’s be honest: I’m a short girl and not super muscle bound. I know my limits, I know I can be overpowered, so yeah, the taser makes me feel a little safer. Plus, the look on McCree’s face when I whipped it out at him was priceless!”

“Ah, Talia,” 76 sputtered through laughter, “I would have loved to have seen that!”

“Athena has it recorded,” she grinned, “I’ll send it to you.”

The two of them spent the better part of an hour catching up, telling silly stories about the people they worked with – Torb welding his beard into his turret, Ana sticking herself with a sleeping dart. Soldier 76 hadn’t been this relaxed in ages, but when Natalia checked her phone for the third time, he knew she had other places to be.

“Time to head out,” he asked, trying to be satisfied with the time he’d had with her.

“Yeah, probably,” she sighed. “To be honest, though, I think I’d rather stay in with you.”

He heart swelled, but he knew better than to keep Talia all to himself, no matter how much he wanted to. “Bah, go, Natalia. I’m sure you’re date is much more fun than this old man is. Besides, Ana will be back soon, and if she sees you on here, she’ll talk your dang ear off all night. She’s dying to meet you.”

“I’d love to meet her! She’s amazing,” Talia all but sang.

“I’ll introduce you someday, but not now. Ana is insisting on telling you every embarrassing story about me she can think of,” 76 confessed.

“Yes please,” Natalia said, bouncing up and down on the counter. “That would be the best!”

“No,” 76 barked, “that would be the worst! Objectively, empirically, undeniably the worst!”

“I can’t believe Captain Amari herself is out there and wants to meet me,” Natalia said with an awed lilt in her voice. Her phone rang before 76 could tell her just how excited Ana was to meet ‘the little Morrison girl with the nanobots.’

“Hey Andy,” Natalia said walking into her bedroom and out of sight. “We still on for tonight? . . . That’s actually perfect. I might be a little late, too. . . Alright, I’ll see you there. Later.”

“Everything good,” 76 asked, pretending he wasn’t eavesdropping.

“Yep, all good.” Her excited smile was adorable.

“Gotta say,” he said, half joking, half not, “a man showing up late for a first date doesn’t make for a great first impression . . .”

She rolled her eyes and gave him a fake frown before grinning again. “Can you blame a veterinarian for taking a little extra time with a puppy who has a sprained paw?”

The old soldier moaned. “I just tried to tear down a vet? Who was treating a puppy? Well, feel like a jerk.”

“All is forgiven, and, um, just so you know, Andy is a woman.”

Soldier 76 closed his eyes tight and nearly smacked himself. He shouldn’t have been so presumptuous, he shouldn’t have assumed. Now he was desperately trying to find a way to recover and not sound like an ass.

“Will you say something,” Natalia said quietly. “If you’re going to judge me for – ”

“Talia, I’m not judging, I swear! I just didn’t want to say something wrong. Again. I’m sorry. I just want you to be happy, kiddo. Honest.”

“It’s ok, 76,” Talia said leaning on the counter. “I was just nervous about telling you, so I got a little jittery. I’m glad you’re not, I guess – ”

“Homophobic?”

She shrugged, “Yeah. I knew you weren’t – I remember reading about how you stood up for Lena when that dignitary made a shitty comment during the original Overwatch days, but it’s different when it’s me telling you, dad to daughter.”

“You are my favorite person in the world, Natalia,” 76 said seriously, “no matter what, no matter who you like.”

“As long as it's not McCree or Genji,” Talia teased.

He snorted, “Or Mercy. Or Lena. Or Ana.”

“I definitely had a crush on Ana,” she said with a grin.

“Do not tell her that,” 76 said, waving his finger at her, “that woman does not need anything else to boost her ego!”

“Hey, she has a right to be confident,” Talia said defensively.

“True, but you don’t travel with her day in and day out, hearing about ‘that time in Mexico City’ every three days,” 76 huffed.

“Would you rather Ana talking to me about her illustrious career, or your embarrassing moments?”

“Good point,” he chuckled. “Now go have fun tonight, and I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“I will, and thanks for being so good to me, 76.”

“I’m trying, kiddo, I’m trying,” he said rubbing the back of his neck.

“Still glad you met me,” she asked with a smile.

“Yes, of course. Why do you keep asking me that? Almost every other message you’ve sent me has that in it.”

“Just being greedy,” she smirked. “I like hearing you say that you like having me around. It’s as if all my childhood daydreams about us being together came true.”

“Ah, Talia,” he said, melting inside, “I have to try every day not to buy a plane ticket to Gibraltar just so I can see you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t try so hard and just come visit,” she suggested.

“I can’t,” he said, guilt attacking his gut, “at least not yet.”

“I know, I know,” she said, throwing on a worn, blue leather jacket that reminded 76 very much of his own. “See you on a wanted poster then?”

“Har, har,” he said, shaking his head, “but I better not see you on one.”

“I’ll try my best,” she laughed.

@watch-your-grammer @winchester-sonsandcastiel

#mine #writing #overwatch #soldier 76 #natalia #drabble #my drabble #overwatch drabble #daughter series

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lpdwillwrite4coffee · 4 years

Text

CHILDREN OF LILITH CHAPTER THREE

A quick knock sounded and Nikki trotted to the door.

Flinging it open, she sighed, exasperated. “I need help.”

Kaelin frowned, looking her over. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

“I need help,” Nikki repeated. “This is worse than the fashion crisis of ’09.”

“I highly doubt that,” Kaelin said, dropping her coat and purse on the couch and following Nikki to her bedroom. “At least now your eyebrows are back to their normal shape.”

“You miss one waxing appointment and never live it down,” Nikki muttered, shoving a section of clothes hanging in her closet to the side.

Kaelin sat on the edge of the bed, sweeping her wavy brown hair over her shoulder. “So what’s the emergency?”

“What’s the quintessential stereotypical crisis every woman goes through at least once a week?”

“Whether or not to get their Master’s degree?”

“Not having anything to wear.” Nikki pulled out a gauzy floral top, holding it up for inspection. Kaelin wrinkled her nose at it.

“I thought you were gonna wear that cute black dress you wore to my company holiday party last year,” Kaelin said, crossing her legs at the knee, shiny black stilettos catching the light.

“Yeah and remember what happened? I slipped in a puddle of eggnog and ended up showing your entire accounting department my Brainy Smurf undies.”

Kaelin laughed. “Oh yeah, I forgot about that!”

“Well it was after your third Jaeger bomb,” Nikki said, picking out another top. “It’s a miracle you remember even being there.”

“You know what I wish I didn’t remember? Hooking up with Martin from Human Resources. Seriously, why didn’t you stop me?”

“I was too busy trying to fend off one of the drunk VPs, whose wife by the way, was none too pleased.” Nikki vetoed the new top and sighed. “Help,” she said, turning back to her friend.

“Okay, okay,” Kaelin hopped up and strode to stand next to her. “We’ve decided against anything short and in dress form… What about this?” She pointed at a light blue chiffon blouse.

“It’s see through,” Nikki said.

Kaelin blinked at her. “And…?”

“And I want guys to ask my name, not my price.”

Putting it back, her friend sighed. “Alright… What about this one? It’s cute.”

“I bought it when I’d gained ten pounds and it all went to my boobs. Now it’s just a sad reminder of what once was,” she said wistfully.

“Okay, I’m going in blind.” Kaelin covered her eyes and reached into the closet. Her fingers snagged on an emerald and silver scoop neck top with delicate embroidery at the hem.

Nikki’s eyes popped. “I forgot I had this,” she said, taking it from her.

“How could you forget something so gorgeous?”

“Temporary insanity,” she said, holding it up to herself. “I think it’ll still fit.”

“Then what are you waiting for Cinderella?”

Nikki started to take off her basic white tee shirt, but paused and glanced at Kaelin. “Um, could you maybe not look?”

She arched an eyebrow. “You do realize we’ve seen each other’s lady parts about a gazillion times right?”

“I know… I’m just having a low confidence day and don’t wanna think about you seeing my love handles.”

Suspicious, Kaelin obliged, covering her eyes again with her hand. “Better?”

Nikki smiled. “Much,” she said.

While it was true her self-esteem wasn’t at peak levels, it wasn’t the only reason Nikki had requested privacy. She didn’t want Kaelin to see the marks.

Dark inky bruises had popped up overnight, fanning across her abdomen and hips. There was no way she had run into anything hard enough to cause such severe injuries, not even on the worst day of work. Of course if Kaelin saw them she would immediately think she’d been hurt, no matter what Nikki told her. Hell, if she heard someone say Oh, those just showed up one day, and I don’t know how, she wouldn’t believe them either. It was easier to hide them until she saw her doctor again. He’d said the new migraine medication he put her on could have side effects, he just didn’t say she’d look like she’d gone several rounds with a world champion boxer.

When she was sure none of them were visible under the hem of her shirt, she announced she was finished.

“Oh my God you’re a super model,” Kaelin exclaimed.

“Trying to flatter me into buying you two chocolate martinis?”

“That depends. Is it working?”

She pursed her lips, feigning deep thought. “Maybe… I still haven’t heard anything about my ass though…”

“And your ass looks fantastic!” Kaelin said, excitedly gesturing. “All three Kardashian sisters are cursing God for not giving them your fabulous booty.”

“Alright, stop before you embarrass yourself.”

“Too late. Remember Martin?”

Nikki laughed. “Well lets go find you a man who will wash away all memories of HR Martin.”

“Ooh, can he have an accent?”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Nikki gathered her purse and keys as they headed for the door. She started to turn the knob when Kaelin pulled up short.

“Wait,” she said, tugging Nikki’s forearm.

“What is it?”

“We can’t go.”

Nikki frowned, skin pricking with worry. “What? Why?”

“Because…” Kaelin backed up, heading towards the bedroom again. She disappeared, leaving Nikki where she stood. A moment later she returned, jubilant. “We forgot these.” Dangling from her fingers was a very long strand of condoms.

“Oh my God, are you planning on banging an entire Navy fleet?” Nikki gaped.

“Like that’s even possible.” Kaelin rolled her eyes. “You know it’s not Fleet-week.”

“Oh forgive me. I mixed up my annual sex holidays.”

“Do I need to write them on your calendar? ‘Cause you know I will.”

“Could you please put the Trojans in your bag?” Nikki pushed the prophylactics back at her friend.

“You take them. You’re the one we’re trying to get laid here.”

“First of all, we are not trying to ‘get me laid’. And secondly, even if we were, I would need one, possibly two, condoms max. Not half the box.” She waved her hand at the condom rope she was sure she could double-dutch with.

Kaelin found the middle perforation and ripped it apart. “Fine, I’ll take half and you take half. Better?”

“Sure.” Nikki took them quickly and shoved them into her purse. “Now can we go?”

“Of course we can you naughty girl.” Kaelin winked.

Sighing, Nikki opened the door. “Remind me why we’re friends…”

“Because you need someone to borrow clothes from.”

“Oh, that’s right.”

They stopped outside the building long enough for Nikki to lock the front door, cold air whipping around her legs and tangling her hair. While Kaelin went to hail a cab, Nikki finished with the deadbolt and shoved her keys into her purse.

A new chill crept up her back, raising goosebumps in its wake. Nikki tried to tell herself it was the weather, but the undeniable churning dread in her gut made it hard to believe. She glanced around, searching for the source, but found nothing. The block was quiet, save for a few cars and the mini mart on the corner.

“Hey, you ready?” Kaelin called, opening up the taxi door.

Nikki nodded. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

Ignoring the clawing urge to run back inside, Nikki climbed into the car after her friend and forced herself to smile. Everything was fine…

* * *

Griffin slid down into his overstuffed leather chair and stared at the towering bookshelf across from him. He should pick something to read. Reading always helped even him out after a long day, but he couldn’t focus his vision for very long. Lisa was probably right, that last knock on the head might’ve given him more than just another bruise.

Concussed or not, Griffin wasn’t in a mood to do much of anything.

Exhaustion weighed him down with aching bones. But it was nothing compared to the brutal ravaging of the inside of his skull.

The dogs were awake, and starving.

God, shut up, he thought with a hiss. You’ve had enough. Just… let me rest.

His… gift howled.

“I said no,” he muttered, slumping against the cushions, left side screaming in protest. He groaned, wrapping an arm around his abdomen.

A fractured rib, or maybe two, if he guessed from where the pain radiated. At least he’d healed up alright from the previous breaks.

The barrier he’d struggled to keep up all day began to bow under the pressure, the dogs tearing and clawing at his head, trying to get free. Shutting his eyes, Griffin took a deep breath and pushed back, supporting the mental walls built around his gift. They wouldn’t hold much longer, but it was better than nothing.

Somewhere down the hall, a door slammed in a hurry, making Griffin jerk. With his grip loose, the dogs lunged and tore out of their cage, rushing for the nearest subconscious. Memories flowed into Griffin like dirty sand, scraping as it smothered his own thoughts. He recognized the emotional signature, and choked out a sigh of relief. It was Boz. He was in Boz’s head. Better a friend than a random stranger passing on the street below.

But the dogs were ravenous, and just like any hungry animal, they sought out the most nourishing prey. That meant the deepest, heaviest memories. Things people wished they could forget…

I bet you can’t reach that top branch, Boz had called out to his younger brother.

I can too! Just watch!

The pungent odor of wet soil and cut grass filled Griffin’s nose. He heard birds in the distance, sunlight hot on the side of his face. His hands clenched, palms aching from phantom tree bark rubbing them raw.

No Liam, wait!

I can do it Boz!

But-

I’m almost to the top!

Wood splintering and the scared yelp of a little boy had Griffin surging forward; reacting to the vision only he could see. Sobbing still rang in his ears as he yanked on the dogs’ leash, desperate to haul them back to their cage.

B-Boz! I th-think it’s broken!

Hold on Liam, I’ll get mom!

With the little strength Griffin had left, he pulled his gift out of Boz’s head, but it didn’t come without a fight. Feral creatures never did. By the time they were locked in his own mind again, he was out of breath, nails gouging the leather under his hands.

He was grabbing the whiskey bottle before giving his body permission. It was at his lips, his stomach churning with fire. Gasping, he broke his seal on the rim and coughed. The bottle had been mostly full… now there was less than a third left.

Griffin’s head dropped back against the leather. “Fuck,” he muttered, still gripping the neck.

He was getting faster at chugging. But that wasn’t exactly a skill to put on a resume.

Once his stomach settled, Griffin lifted the bottle deliberately, and tipped it up.

Finally, the dogs were quiet- lulled into submission by the liquor coursing through his system. The resounding peace in his head had Griffin entertaining the idea of sleep, if only for a few moments. With heavy eyelids, he stretched out his legs and tucked the bottle into the crook of his arm.

Ten minutes, he thought. Just ten minutes…

In the indigo shade between asleep and awake, the dogs jumped the fence. This time however, the whiskey had done its job. His gift was drunk too. It slunk around the hallway, sniffing at the baseboards, tripping along the floor, unsure of where to find another mind to burrow into.

A lazy smirk spread across Griffin’s face. He knew he should tug on the leash before—

“Hey Griffin, you ready to go?” Lisa called.

Too late.

The dogs lapped at the tendrils of emotion radiating from Lisa and chased after them, rolling around in her mind like a soft patch of dirt.

“Son of a bitch.” Griffin pulled himself up, pressing his arms into the tops of his thighs.

Floor boards creaked with each step as Lisa moved closer. A firm knock was followed by, “Griffin?”

Setting the bottle down by his chair, Griffin swallowed hard and shuffled to the doorway. Light poured in from the corridor, blinding him. He blinked, trying not to wince.

Lisa frowned up at him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he croaked. Well, didn’t he sound convincing.

“You look like you feel sick,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he lied.

The dogs had found a dense cluster of memories and were devouring everything, filtering it back to Griffin in garbled chunks. His head throbbed as he tried to focus on the present situation, and not Lisa’s memories.

“Okay…” Lisa eyed him suspiciously. “Well Boz is done, so are you ready to go?”

Griffin furrowed his brow. “Go where?”

“To Onyx, remember? Tasha said she’d take us all out for drinks as a thank you for today.”

Griffin tried wading through Lisa’s memories to get to his own, but it took too long and she grew annoyed at his apparent lack of recognition.

“You forgot, didn’t you?”

To be honest, he wasn’t sure if he had or not. It was too difficult to tell with her subconscious clouding over his.

“I guess so.” He half- shrugged as he pressed his arm into the edge of the door. Maybe the sensation would help keep him grounded…

It didn’t work.

The silvery tones of remembered voices drowned out Lisa’s as she spoke to him, completely oblivious to the internal battle he wasn’t winning.

No Boz, it’s not that…

“…Now that you’ve been reminded, you should get ready…”

This is different. He hasn’t been the same since…

“…Otto said he’s feeling better…”

He’s angry all the time. He just stays locked up in his room or the study and…

“…And Tasha did offer to buy our drinks for the night…”

Months, Boz! It’s been months. Before, when everything was fresh I could understand but now? He’s not even trying anymore. He promised he would and he isn’t, which…

“...Which is one hell of a thank you in my book…”

We can’t keep making excuses for him! It’s not doing him any favors!

“…So c’mon, get changed so we can go.”

Griffin could only stare. Two very conflicting sets of emotions washed through him- her current perplexed state of concern while clinging to her encouraging exterior, and the acidic contempt from her past conversation with Boz. About him. About Griffin’s constant stumbling failures, as a leader and a friend.

Lisa took a half step closer. “Griffin?”

He swallowed roughly. “I, uh… I don’t think I’m gonna be very good company tonight,” he said, trying to sound as casual as possible. “You guys should go without me.”

Disappointment slumped her shoulders and a gentle frown curved her lips. “But I thought you said you felt fine.”

“Yeah, I…”

No Boz, I can’t.

He cleared his throat. “I don’t really…”

I can’t keep pretending everything’s okay. Griffin’s spiraling. Don’t act like you don’t see it too.

Lisa folded her arms across her chest. “Griffin, what’s going on?”

The silvery tone of Boz’s voice replaced Lisa’s in the memory. What are you saying Lisa? That he’s a lost cause? He’s our friend-

I know that! And this is killing me but-

But what?

But he’s sinking! And if we don’t do something, we’re gonna drown right along with him!

“Well if you’re so sure I’m the fucking Titanic, then why don’t you jump ship already?” Griffin growled, face hardening into a deep scowl.

He realized his mistake immediately, but the damage was done. His heart stuttered as he watched Lisa’s expression twist with pained shock. Her mouth fell open and her eyes widened as she stared up at him.

“What…” She shook her head. “You read me.”

Shame and remorse made his stomach roll. “Lisa…”

“You promised you wouldn’t read me again.”

“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

Betrayal rushed from her mind to his, caustic inside his skull.

“You didn’t mean to?” Lisa repeated bitterly.

“I’m too exhausted to control it,” he admitted. “Please, Lisa, I’m so-”

Her gaze drifted to the dimly lit room behind him. “Too exhausted? Or too drunk?”

Griffin didn’t have to look over his shoulder to know she was staring at the liquor bottle on the floor.

Fuck.

“I-” He started.

“Don’t.” Lisa cut him off. “I think it’s pretty obvious you’ve decided what’s more important to you tonight. And to be perfectly honest, I’m too tired to care anymore.”

His chest tightened painfully. “Lisa…” he said, nearly pleading.

“You wanna know the truth?” she asked, facing him. “I was trying to convince myself you weren’t a sinking ship. Every day I tell myself you’re trying. That the last few years have been hard for you, and that you’re doing the best you can. And for a while, I think I believed it. I tricked myself into thinking that you care. But really you’re just trying to numb the pain until you can’t keep your head above water anymore.”

Griffin’s insides began to deaden, like frostbite. Hearing Lisa declare what he’d suspected all along released a strange pressure he’d been burdened with for what seemed like ages. Instead of relief, however, he felt isolated.

“Fine,” he said, voice scarily quiet. “Consider yourself absolved of all that disappointment and guilt you’ve been carrying around. Now you don’t have to keep pretending, because nobody will expect you to actually give a shit anymore. There’s your life raft. Enjoy your newfound freedom.”

Lisa’s anger flared and he felt its heat in his core, but she stayed silent. Her glare roamed over his face once more before she spun and strode down the hall. He listened to her jog down the stairs.

Griffin lingered in the doorway. Guilt soured his stomach, made his hands twitch, but his fury combined with Lisa’s was a hard force to overcome. Years ago he would have gone after her, explained himself, tried to repair the damage he’d caused. His feet stayed planted to the hardwood.

He listened to Boz and Lisa’s muffled voices, followed by the sound of the door closing behind them as they left.

And then there was one…

Inhaling deeply, Griffin corralled his gift and tossed it back into its cage, still loopy and sated from the two minds it read. Maybe he’d finally get some sleep.

Clicking the mental lock, Griffin scowled as he pulled the door shut.

“Stay,” he said, falling into his chair and closing his eyes.

* * *

Griffin woke with his teeth on edge and his hands balled into fists. The hair at his temples was damp, beads of sweat trailing down his neck. Bile rose in the back of his throat and he lurched forward, expecting to vomit but it never came.

He usually felt this kind of nausea after reading a Vampire, and he wondered if the dogs had slipped past the gate again.

Hunched over, with his head in his hands, Griffin forced air into his lungs. Deep, even breaths, in through his nose and out of his mouth just like every self-help article about panic attacks had told him. There were no books about being a Seer. Those would have been more helpful than the psychology magazines.

Griffin took another full breath and realized what was missing- pain. The bruises and cuts along his jaw had faded, and his ribs barely ached. His gift had done its second job; it stitched him back together.

His muscles burned with life, pulse beating out a serious rhythm in his ears. Griffin got to his feet, pacing the length of the study in front of the windows. Each footfall stomped in sync with his heart- thunk, thunk, thunk. There was a downbeat when he turned and then the tempo picked up again. A word started to overlay the sound of his boots, thumping louder and louder as he moved. Hunt, Hunt, Hunt…

He gripped a handful of hair and tugged at it until his scalp burned. No matter what kind of advantages he had in the field, Hunting alone was dangerous. If Boz and Lisa found out he’d gone patrolling without them they’d rip him a new one.

Hunt, Hunt, Hunt…

He glanced at bottle of whiskey next to his chair and thought about drinking away the urge- the need- building in his chest.

Hunt, Hunt, Hunt-

The dogs growled and Griffin’s resolve snapped.

“Fuck it,” he muttered and spun on his heel.

He’d deal with Boz and Lisa’s disappointment later.

#Children of Lilith #free fiction #free novels for pandemic times #my work #my writing #original content #original work

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words-writ-in-starlight · 7 years

Note

so i'm assuming that all the reincarnated ham crew look like their musical actors, which, awesome. but i was thinking about jefferson, who was a racist fucker being reincarnated as a black man. like. how would that even go down?

*emerges from cave, shamefaced* Right, so, does anyone remember that this AU exists? Because I swear to God I didn’t forget, I just only now have had the time. I actually have a bunch of prompts for it, not all of them are going to get written based on...like...my inspiration level, but also this series is alive again, so like. Yep. Here is some Jefferson. Full disclosure, I dislike Jefferson and think his economic plan was some racist bullshit, so...that is evident.

To all you newcomers, I do recommend reading the other stuff, even if you could probably figure it out.

All In One Spot AU

So, the academic affairs office holds out longer than theirpredecessor. Not by much, but by alittle. It takes two full weeks for Alexto hammer through his petition to be allowed to take more than max credits—and it’squite a petition. Angelica takes one look at the twenty-page,double-sided, single-spaced letter to the dean of academics and disavows anyinvolvement, and John grins fondly, remarking that the dean has no idea what he’sgotten into.

The dean, incidentally, has lived his life with pleasantly dim memoriesof Philedelphia with cobblestone streets and a vague impression that he knowsthe unfortunate teacher annually strong-armed into teaching History of theAmerican Revolution. He recalls verylittle else of his time in the Continental Congress—indeed, at gunpoint hecouldn’t have identified what exactly he was doing, back then.

He has a blindingly vividflashback upon looking at the first page of the letter—the pamphlet, really—and immediately feeds the entire thing through hisshredder.

“Jake,” he says, sticking his head out of his office to look at hissecretary.

“Yes, sir?”

“Approve whatever Hamilton’s request was before he sends anymoreletters. I’ve seen enough for severallifetimes.”

“You got it, boss,” says Jake, whose past life was a blissfullyunremarkable farmer in the Italian countryside and who therefore has no ideathat his boss is sparing them all a lot of trouble.

Now, the reason this matters is because Alex walks into his Econ 101class for the first time two weeks into the semester, takes one look at thelesson outline the grad student wrote on the board, and makes a sound ofabsolute incoherent horror.

“Oh my god,” Alex says faintly, frozen in place two steps inside thedoor. He was never an especiallyreligious person, but he’s wondering if maybe the universe is punishing him forpast crimes. He’s not saying one way orthe other if he deserves it, but this seems excessive. “Jefferson is haunting me from beyond thegrave.”

“Listen, kid,” sighs the grad student. She wears her hair buzzed short on one side and is clutching her coffeealmost as fiercely as Alex is, and he thinks this is maybe not her first classtoday from the also, I don’t carelook on her face. “We’re doing a reviewof some basic socioeconomic structures, and the Jeffersonian/Hamiltonian debateis, like, critical. So could you--”

“But it’s bullshit,” Alexbursts out before he can even try to hold his tongue. “It was bullshit when Jefferson first came upwith it, and it’s bullshit now.”

“Jesus Christ,” a voice fromsomewhere in the front third of the lecture hall mutters. A tall figure unfolds itself from a chair andsays, “Have you ever taken an economics class in your life?”

Alex can actually taste the way his blood pressure skyrockets. It occurs to him, briefly, that someone—possiblyEliza, also possibly the General—might kill him if he starts a fight right now,but. On the other hand. He’s going to start a fight. He’s got no choice, basically.

“Have you?” he demands rudely,turning to stare up the lecture hall at the young man—maybe a sophomore, he’stoo angry to be sure, but he’s wearing a very questionable magenta hoodie andhis hair is even fluffier than Lafayette’s and honestly he has a very punchableface, in Alex’s humble opinion—and narrowing his eyes. “I mean, do you have a single legitimateargument for why Jefferson’s bullshit plan would work? Because let me just say, plenty of Southernersloved to sit around and talk about how the country was being railroaded by thebig cities in the North but--”

“If the North can’t balance their own needs with the supply they cangenerate, why should the South--”

Fine, if that’s how he wants to play it. Alex raises his voice to try to drown the other guy out. “If the South wants to call itself a part ofa country, it needs to support--”

“State-by-state trade--”

“—what, you expect landowners to share their profits freely enough tokeep a country alive, God you’re naïve--”

“—freedom from the chokeholdof a national bank--”

“—so the country can be held hostage by the South?”

“Farms and farm owners should be able to dictate where their finances--”

“—can’t punish the North for the sin of not having huge arable fields--”

“—your vaunted manufacturing facilities cover it?”

By now they’re bellowing at each other over the heads of the rest of theclass, real anger kicking up an intellectual debate into something familiar,and so Alex isn’t really surprised by the next slip of his tongue. Old habits, new dogs—old dogs? Something like that.

Anyway.

Point is, Alex slams his textbook down onto the grad student’s table andhollers, “Goddamnit, Jefferson, I wasright and history proves it, get off your fucking high horse!”

There’s a long couple seconds where Alex remembers, in the dead silencethat’s settled on the lecture hall, that he was kind of planning to keep a lidon that? Oh well, any hope of secrecywas blown to shit by Washington’s class anyway and fuck it, he’s right, he was right then and he’s right now, andfurthermore—

“Go fuck yourself, Hamilton,” the tall guy says, and Alex has a smallheart attack.

“Jesus God, fucking Christ, what the fuck,” the grad student blurts allat once in a rush, but Alex doesn’t answer her, too busy taking a deep breathto launch his next volley.

Admittedly, it’s not a gracious one, but listen, just listen: Alex is not a gracious personand no one ever said he was, certainly never more than once, and definitely notafter having an argument with him.

“Hey, look, I’m sure it’s rough to realize that all your best effortsonly ended in Andrew Jackson’s racist ass closing down the federal bank andlanding us all neck deep in shit a hundred and fifty years later--”

“Excuse me, I wrote--”

Alex drives over the tall guy’s protests—Jefferson’s protests, and wow, he’s going to hear about this fromWashington later. “—but you really haveto get over your bullshit economic plan and just admit that it depends on slavery.”

“It does not!”

“Oh my god it does, it totallydoes, the only way your plan works is if there’s basically no economic overheadfor labor, and like, listen, buddy, I’m not sure if anyone ever told you this,but we had a whole war about the slavery thing, it was a very big deal, itkilled like a million people and then we agreed that slavery was bad.” Alex pauses and very slowly arches an eyebrowat Jefferson, enjoying this…probably more than he should. “Do youagree that slavery was bad, Thomas?” he asks with a wide smile.

If Jefferson purses his lips any harder, Alex thinks they might actuallyfuse. “Still an asshole and animmigrant, I see.”

“Well, not all of us had such an easy karmic target on our backs as,say, just for example, a slave owner with a realbad track record getting brought back as a black guy,” Alex points outgenerously. “If Maria shows up, I’m morethan happy to let her follow Peggy’s example and punch me, I’m doing mypenance.”

“I don’t deserve this,” Jefferson tells the ceiling.

“I dunno, man,” the girl sitting next to him says. “Sounds like you might. Like, I did the reading and your plan was kind of bullshit.”

Honestly this is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to him—well,no, it’s not even the greatest thing to happen to him this month, but it’s upthere, okay, it’s way up there. “I feel so, so validated,” Alex tells thegrad student, who looks like she might be in shock? Her eyes are wide and her jaw is slack, so hecocks his head and asks, “Are you okay?”

She shuts her mouth with a click, closes her eyes, swallows. Pinches the bridge of her nose between herthumb and finger. It’s shockinglysimilar to Washington’s patented Headache Pose that always appeared during thelatest cabinet battle royal.

“Can you two be trusted to not kill each other if you sit on oppositesides of the hall?”

“Come on, now, we worked together for like—most of a couple decades,”Alex says after a second of mental math.

“Yeah,” she says, opening her eyes and visibly trying not to be star struck, which Alex…appreciates, to becompletely honest. “And then you, youknow, mutually annihilated each other and he spent a couple more decades tryingto blackball your name out of the history books.”

“It’s so rare that I feel like the bigger person,” Alex says, bouncingon his toes.

“That’s because you’re unnaturally small,” Jefferson mutters, sullenlyresuming his seat.

“I am not listening to baseless insults about my height right now, thankyou, Jefferson, I have the eternal trump card and there’s nothing you can doabout it.”

The grad student puts her head back into her hand, and squeezes her eyesshut.

#all in one spot au #alexander hamilton #hamilton #hamilton fic #reincarnation au #thomas jefferson #tjeffs #I'M NOT DEAD #also is it blindingly obvious from this ficlet that i've had this argument?#because i have #this is an angrier shoutier transcript of an argument i've trotted out several times #basically PAY YOUR FUCKING TAXES #this has been a psa #anyway rip this grad student idk who she was maybe anna strong or something #she doesn't deserve this #washington is going to be Very Done also when he finds out this is a thing #pour one out for all these students who are going to have to put up with these two assholes in their econ class #now some more full disclosure: i have never taken an econ class #anyway A N Y W A Y #god focus jesus okay #in case it's not blindingly obvious i low-key assume alex had adhd and write him accordingly #OKAY NO MORE RAMBLES #necessary tags #moran writes stuff #anonymous #asked and answered

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markgetsetgo · 7 years

Text

Exes and Ohs

Author: ohhhkenneth

Pairing: Markson (GOT7)

Category: Romance

Length: 10k words

Rated: M for smut, cursing

Summary: Mark’s older sister gets a new boyfriend as often as she gets a new hand bag. Most of them are dumb jocks with no personality and who seldom showered, and her new boyfriend Jackson was supposed to be no different. He wasn’t supposed to be charming or gorgeous, and Mark definitely wasn’t supposed to like him this much.

Note: This story is part of a series. The other parts are here.

Exes and Ohs - Part 1

"So your sister is forcing you guys to meet and actually talk?" AJ, Mark's best friend, questioned as he swung his legs freely off the side of Mark's twin bed.

Mark was reluctantly getting dressed, he knew that if he let his sister down for the third time she would most definitely murder him and make it look like an accident. Still, he was less than excited to meet Jackson.

Jackson was Tammy's boyfriend. And truthfully, Mark had already met him more than a number of times, they just hadn't spoken yet. But when your sister is dating the star quarterback; a boy whose idea of a good time is shot-gunning a beer and then arm wrestling all of his friends, you tend to keep your distance. Or, at least you do if you're Mark.

Mark would love to be friends with Jackson, he just couldn't bring himself to break that ice between them because their personalities were so, so different. If Jackson was X, then Mark was definitely O.

Still, he had a duty to Tammy, being her roommate and also her sibling. So when she called him from upstairs, he sighed and shouted back that he'd be up in a minute. Only, he wanted to crawl back under his blankets and let the night pass him by.

Unfortunately, AJ had an escape plan and faked some sort of family emergency so that he could leave. And just like that, Mark's only support was gone - leaving him to the lions. Jackson being the biggest, fiercest lion of them all.

Mark adjusted his forest green bowtie, his red sweater vest hugged nicely around his thin body. He took a small gulp and then made his way upstairs.

Halfway up the stairs he caught an earful of what sounded like Jackson coming through the door. There was a moment of silence before a laughter erupted into the house, booming down the halls and nearly shaking the pictures off of the wall.

Yep, Jackson.

Mark braced himself for what he imagines is going to be the most painfully awkward meeting he's ever had to sit through.

Tammy's boyfriends always came around, though; Jason, Chris, Caleb, it was always the same person with a different name: a testosterone filled numbskull with too much money and whose only loves were sports and girls.

So what made Jackson so different?

Well, for one it's Christmas Eve, and Tammy has prepared a smorgasbord of food. Half of which she no doubt ordered from the local deli, because everybody knows that the only thing Tammy can cook perfectly is toast, and even that's a bit risky.

She must really, really like Jackson. It was her longest relationship of them all - five months. Although that may not seem incredibly monumental, it was for Tammy. Her and Mark's parents were always on her case to find herself a decent husband to move in with.

She ditched university two semesters in to chase after a career as an esthetician; that wasn't exactly falling through as planned. And everyone needs a back up plan - part of Mark believed that that's exactly what Jackson was. The tall, muscular, obnoxious boy was nothing more than a backup plan.

If that is indeed true, then tonight Tammy was hitting a home run. There's no way he could leave her after all the trouble she went through to prepare dinner and make him meet her parents. That would seal the deal, he thought.

Mark couldn't help but make a detour through the cozy kitchen on his way to the door. The smells of turkey, stuffing, dumplings and pie filled the small house like a dangerous and tasty smoke.

Mark felt his stomach rumble a little under his sweater. At least he would get a good meal out of all of this, it wasn't totally a loss. Plus, it might even shut Tammy up for a few weeks, if he's lucky. Everybody wins.

"Jackson, you know Mark. He's my little brother." Tammy introduced, "Mark, this is Jackson. He's my boyfriend."

It took nearly everything in Mark not to be a sarcastic asshole in that moment. Tammy already knew that they knew each other. God, she was acting so incredibly fake. Must've had something to do with the extravagence of tonight; all the food, the decorations, and Tammy's outfit.

Strung around the entire border of the old house was meters and meters of Christmas lights. They were beautiful, and had a switch on the powerline that changed their hue, cycling through basic Christmas colors; red, green, white, blue.

Tammy's hair was pulled up into a tight and neat French roll. Her lips were a devilish red color, framing her small lips perfectly. She was really pretty, if only her personality would reflect it too.

Tammy always had ultierior motives in everything she did. One time when they were young their parents took Mark and Tammy to an ice cream shop. Tammy asked their parents for money to buy her and Mark an icy snack; however, when they actually got up to the counter, Mark was devastated to find out that she had no intention of getting him one. Instead she pocketed the change and sort of just smirked at Mark.

That's when Mark realized he couldn't trust Tammy. Sure he loved her, but he didn't trust her, not for one second.

When they returned back to their parents, they asked Tammy where Mark's ice cream went. She lied and said that Mark's fell onto the floor and some dogs licked it up. Her parents felt so bad for Mark that they gave Tammy more money to replace the ice cream.

That was the day Tammy cashed in on Mark's helplessness and made herself an extra ten bucks.

"Hey Mark, what's up?" was all Jackson muttered. He extended a firm hand in some sort of bro-handshake that Mark awkwardly tried to follow. Their hands fumbled around a little before Mark just gave up and withdrew his small hand.

"Mark." he quipped back, pursing his lips and giving out a contrived nod.

Tammy seemed pleased with herself. Her plan was coming into fruition, the two boys standing awkwardly in front of her like two pawns in her elaborate game to get married.

"Let's eat, whattaya say?" her voice is hopeful, directing the two into the kitchen.

The two boys follow like sheep, and it's almost glaringly obvious they'd both be somewhere else.

When they get to the cherry wood table, there's four seats. Mark takes the one closest to the window, since that was always his chair. Jackson takes the seat across from him, and Tammy remains standing to hand the food out.

Mark looks down, trying his best not to make eye contact with Jackson or Tammy, as if not looking at them would somehow allow his body to be somewhere else. He places a white cloth onto his lap.

His outfit is quite festive; between the green bowtie, the maroon sweater vest, and his pants - soft white chords - he feels quite confident in his style.

Tammy and Mark were not enemies, not even close. They were quite similar actually, aside from Tammy's innate need to manipulate everything and everyone into her favor.

One thing his sister and he had in common was their incessant need to match their outfit to whatever event or ocasssion they were currently at. Tonight was, of course, no different. Between the two of them, if you didn't know them better, looked like a pair of Santa's little helpers. Tammy even had a festive red bow in her hair.

Jackson was the only person who looked like he wasn't working in a Christmas factory. When Mark finally gathered the nerve to shoot him a glance, he was surprised to see that Jackson had bulked up a lot since he last saw him.

Jackson was wearing a white long sleeve t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His shoulders were broad and quite large, pulling the cotton of the shirt into a tight bend. His biceps were bigger too, fighting eagerly to break out of his sleeves when Jackson bent his arms.

Mark does everything he can to divert his attention to anything other than the fact that Jackson is very, very good looking.

"Tammy," he squeaks lowly, "Can you pass me the uh, the peas."

Tammy replies with a nod and scoops a couple portions of peas onto Mark's empty plate.

"Me too please, sweetie." Jackson echoes, holding his white plate up to Tammy.

She serves him some peas too. Everything falls quiet after that, save for the few clanks of cutlery against the ceramic dishes.

Tammy finally finishes distributing all of the food, and by then Mark's hunger level is nearing its boiling point.

Before they can even say anything else, he's digging into the mashed potatoes laid out in front of him, like someone who has never eaten in a month.

"Gosh, Mark." Tammy scoffs under her breath, shooting him side eyes. "Take it easy, you're not an animal."

Mark's eyes grow a little, realizing how he must look to the others. He grunts a little in embarrassment and leans back into his chair, adjusting himself and dotting his mouth with his cloth.

"Nah, it's cool hun. Shows he likes your cooking. I think it's cool when a man can dig into his food like that." Jackson defends him, and strangely Mark feels a little less embarrassed - almost proud.

Although Mark knows damn well that the mashed potatoes he is currently ripping apart did not come from their oven, but instead from Swiss Chalet's Christmas menu down the block. Still, he decides not to completely blow the lid on Tammy's operation, even if she is already picking him apart and the meal just started.

"So babe, tell Mark about yourself. You are finally able to talk, this is exciting." Tammy proposes, ignoring her food and leaning onto the table with her elbows supporting herself. "Aw, my two boys."

Mark feels a certain queasiness in his lower stomach, probably a natural reaction to how phony Tammy is being, but he quells it, trying instead to focus on whatever dribble Jackson will decide to spew out.

"Well.." he begins, clearing his throat. His voice was deep and serious, with a hint of confidence. "I'm currently studying at M. Tech, and hopefully if things go my way I'll be graduating at the end of this year with my degree in Advanced Robotics."

Mark smells bullshit.

"Wow, fascinating." he shoots back, almost completely sure that Jackson is lying, but doesn't feel like blowing the lid on his cover either.

It seems like all night, Mark will be holding himself back from revealing the true identity of both his sister and his sister's lover. They really were made for each other, he thought.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that's sarcasm." Jackson shrugs, focusing in on Mark's blank expression.

Well, he was right. Mark wasn't believing a damn word that Jackson said.

"No, really, fascinating. I'm just a little surprised that a football jock managed to get into the best technical school in this province," he admitted, sort of realizing that his voice came out a little more pointed than he originally intended. He didn't want to offend Jackson, but he also didn't appreciate being fed lies. Tammy's cooking was bad enough.

"So what, I play football. I'm damn good too. Gotta pay for college somehow, right?" Jackson smirks and then starts eating, like he's won the argument already.

"Babe has a full ride to M. Tech because his coaches put his name forward for scholarships. He was chosen out of a lot of players to receive that money, too. It's kind of a big deal, Mark." Tammy chimes in, as if she was waiting for a chance to talk her man up.

Mark was beginning to feel a little cornered, so he made a hasty decision to abandon his interrogation approach and try to play the nice guy. All he had to do was get through this dinner, then when Tammy breaks up with him, he will never have to endure another encounter with Jackson.

"I apologize then, that's pretty admirable. Good job, Jackson." he concedes.

Jackson lifts his head and a large goofy smile curves onto his lips. There's a piece of turkey sitting at the corner of his mouth, and he speaks with enthusiasm, food still being chewed inside his mouth. "Thanks man!"

Mark puts his head down and frowns a little, grimacing away from the sight of Jackson's full mouth. How could someone like Jackson Wang manage to get accepted into M. Tech, especially on a full scholarship, no less.

Maybe he was a bit premature in his judgment of the boy after all.

The evening presses forward at a monotonous and bland pace, with Tammy filling the silence with her tales of being a top shot esthetician, even though she hadn't even graduated from her eight month nail tech program.

Jackson does his best to appease her, nodding and smiling as if he knows what cuticles are and appreciates nail art or the like. It's quite painful for Mark to witness. Their relationship had about as much substance as Tammy's homemade bread loaf - slim to none.

One thing that wasn't as painful to watch, though, was how Jackson's eyes curved into semi-circles everytime he laughed. His dark eyes shimmering in the dim light, resembling stars in a night sky.

Mark felt himself get a bit self-conscious, making sure that Tammy didn't notice him staring at Jackson. He wasn't even sure himself what it was about Jackson specifically that made him alluring.

Mark needed to continuously remind himself that Jackson was:

1. Tammy's boyfriend. Ew. 2. Only temporary, he would be gone as soon as Tammy got bored. 3. Straight. And even if there was a chance, he wasn't Mark's type at all, not even a little bit.

These three points stirred around in Mark, making him look away from Jackson when he noticed the other was staring. Made him offer to pour his own wine, when Jackson offered.

It went on like this for the remainder of the evening. Tammy and Jackson were on their second bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, and Tammy was beginning to act pathetic and whine about her weak calves and her lack of thigh gap.

Mark knew it was time to retreat to the basement where he slept. He thanked Tammy for the food, which surprisingly was pretty good overall and definitely hit the spot. She was too busy sobbing about her split ends to notice though. Then he gave Jackson a friendly wave and disappeared down the stairs to his man cave.

Morning snuck up on Mark quicker than he'd like.

He summons himself out of bed and groans lowly to himself. Even though he only had one glass of wine, his head was pounding slightly, and his vision was a little blurry.

He dragged his feet to the window, his bunny slippers making a light scratching noise against the hardwood.

He sneered at the bright white snow outside that nearly blinded him, promptly shutting his curtains before heading for the bathroom to freshen up.

When he reached the door and pushed it in, it only made it a little ways before hitting something and bouncing back.

Turns out that something was in fact a someone. And that someone was none other than Jackson Wang, resident bad boy and unwelcomed guest. He was wearing a pair of penguin pajama pants and a dark black muscle tee. His arms were strong as always, bulging a bit as he shaved his face.

"What are.." Mark's voice was low and a little slurred, he rubbed his eyes sleepily and groaned, sliding through the crack of the door to see Jackson shaving. "What're you doing?" he asks.

Jackson nearly falls over at the intrusion, almost slicing his lip off with the razor. He drops the razor and then loses his balance, stepping on the plastic tool in the process.

His face transforms into one of extreme pain as he bounces around on one foot trying to regain his composure, uttering strong breathy curses as he bounces. "Fuck fuck fuck shit. Ugh!"

Mark stands there in his baby blue bathrobe, blinking questioningly a few times. His red hair bunches around his eyebrows and barely covers his eyes. In his left hand is his small bag of essentials; shampoo, soap, facewash, etc.

"Are you alright?" Mark's voice is low and tired. He almost doesn't need an answer, seeing as Jackson is sitting on the toilet now, examing the small wound on his foot.

"Tammy's uh," he groans, as if his sentence is being interrupted by the pain in his foot, "her uh, bathroom. She's taking so long."

Mark nodded once and tongued the inside of his cheek, his little bag tapping away at his hipbone. He understood though, the amount of time Tammy spent in the washroom every morning was absolutely criminal.

Seeing as he had no other choice, he decided to go about his business washing up while Jackson was still present.

"Hope you don't mind." he mumbled, rubbing one eye and approaching the sink.

"Go ahead. Your bathroom after all." Jackson replies, shaking his head apologetically, motioning toward the sink for Mark to get ready.

It was a bit awkward at first, Mark brushing his teeth a foot away from Jackson, who was propped up on the toilet seat, shaving with a small compact mirror. Mark felt a tinge of guilt for forcing Jackson to hurt his foot, and for kicking him off the main mirror so he had to use the small hand held one.

After a moment of quiet contemplation, he took a step to the left, closest to the wall, in order to allow Jackson room to get ready.

"Here, there's room for us both." he told the elder. Jackson's ears perked up and he blinked owlishly at Mark for a second before smiling in agreement.

He raised himself up and stood next to the redhead, looking down at him nervously for a moment before continuing his shaving, almost as if needing more permission.

Mark glanced briefly at Jackson in the mirror, and for a moment caught himself wondering why Jackson was even shaving at all. His face looked oddly handsome with the five o'clock shadow coming in. It gave him a sort of maturity, authority, and masculinity.

Five minutes passed and Mark was now washing his face, rubbing the cleanser generously onto his pale face.

He had flawless skin, which he was almost always receiving compliments for. This was his secret though, for maintaining his perfect complexion.

Jackson finished his last stroke, tapping the razor against the sink a couple times to shake off the water before placing it back into his Hugo Boss shaving bag.

Mark expected Jackson to thank him and then leave, naturally. But of course, Jackson wasn't finished.

"Um, hope you don't mind." he clears his throat. Just then he takes his muscle shirt off in a clean and fluid motion, revealing a flat and hard stomach, his stomach muscles rigid and defined even though Mark was sure he wasn't flexing.

The hair under Jackson's belly button chased down towards his waistband, disappearing under the fabric, almost begging to be followed. The sight of Jackson's soft navel stirred something inside of Mark that he was tried so hard to stifle last night.

His lower abdomen flared up in heat, rumbling in a nervous yet excited feeling. Mark snapped his focus back onto the mirror, exercising superhuman restraint not to gawk over Jackson from the reflection. His body was just so, so perfect.

"Uh," Mark stammered, unsure of what to say. "What, uh. Huh?"

Jackson turned back and raised an eyebrow in a cocky manner. "I mean, you could join me but that would be sort of weird, and I'm sure your sister wouldn't appreciate it." he joked, now untying his penguin pajamas and letting the strings fall, before pulling them down and letting them hit the floor at his feet.

He took two small steps out of them and to the side, standing there in nothing but skin tight black boxer briefs.

Mark's restraint completely crumbled as he let his eyes beam hungerily over Jackson's lower half. He was rewarded with the sight of Jackson's thick and muscular thighs, his crotch tucked nicely into the underwear, but still impressive.

Mark quickly leaned down into the sink, frantically tossing water onto his face to rinse off the soap, almost as if he was washing away all the horrible and inappropriate thoughts he had in that second. Almost as if he could wash away the fact that in that moment he wanted to push Jackson down onto the toilet seat and stradle him, sitting on his lap and feeling his warm olive skin against his own.

When he finally toweled his face off and caught his breath, he realized that he hadn't answered Jackson. The boy stood in front of Mark expectantly, his face a little smug, and clearly he was comfortable with his body.

"I'll just shower after you then." he shrugs, smiling a little before grabbing at his shower bag and retreating to the safety of his room.

When he enters the now dark room, he slams the door behind him and his left hand flies to his mouth, covering it as he slides down the door on his back. His heart still beating and his feet still jittery, wondering what exactly he just saw and why it made him feel that way.

Jackson, the straight, jock quarterback was naked, only a few meters away from him in the next room. Probably rubbing soap onto his pecs, and the water running down, creeping through valley between his abs, then down to his-

Oh god.

Mark couldn't believe where his mind was going. Somewhere upstairs Tammy was still curling her hair, or applying her makeup, and down here Mark was having the most vivid fantasy about her boyfriend and all the things he secretly wanted to do with him. The thoughts alone were enough to make Mark want to stay home and not go to their parents house for lunch.

But of course, he went.

Because you don't turn down an invitation on a holiday in an Asian family, and especially not in the Tuan family.

Tammy was a pretty good indication of what Mark's mother, Dorine, was like. Her hair was a light brown color, dyed to cover the greys now and curled into a large behive sort of style, one that she wore since she was twenty or so, Mark recalled.

She was strict, very proper, and believed in old family traditions and customs. She always said grace before every meal and she was awake before sunrise, preparing her husband's clothes - Mark's dad - for the day, ironing them free of wrinkles and preparing him a fresh pot of coffee to go with his full breakfast. She was definitely the epitome of stay-at-home mom.

Mark's dad, Raymond, was the opposite. He had a silly looking mustache that perfectly mirrored his personality - silly. Mark liked to hear stories of how his mother was won over by Raymond's undeniable charm, even though she wanted to kill him the majority of the time. If Dorine was X, then Ray was O. Although his parents were polar opposites, they seemed to work.

When it was finally time to head over to the rents place, Mark opted to drive himself.

Something about spending an awkward forty minute drive with Tammy and Jackson, with the Christmas day traffic thrown into the mix, was unacceptable to Mark.

He jumped into his Range Rover, waved at Tammy, then peeled out of the drive way, eager to beat the couple to the destination so he didn't have to be around when his mother sized Jackson up for the first time.

The drive was calm, and gave Mark a chance to calm himself down from the more than generous view he got this morning of Jackson in the bathroom. He gripped his wheel, squeezing it impatiently as the traffic jam inched once every couple minutes.

Outside the car he saw a group of children in a nearby park having a snowball fight and making snowmen. It vaguely reminded him of his siblings and their activities around Christmas. His younger brother Joey was always the first to throw a snowball, following by Tammy and then Gy, his other older sister.

When Tammy left for college she needed a roommate, and since Mark was just finishing high school, he decided that he could live with her. He figured there wasn't much damage she could do, considering they'd already lived together their whole lives.

Besides, Joey was too young, and Gy already had her own family and home. Mark was the only feesable option, one that Tammy was even a little hesitant to make. But in the end it worked out, and Tammy and Mark have been roommates for almost two years.

It's nothing of a symbiotic relationship, but it works. Works because Tammy has her own space upstairs where she can be the ruler and tyrant, and she almost never ventures further than the pantry, halfway down the stairs, into Mark's little lair. Things were good.

After the traffic loosened up, Mark pulled off the freeway and was arriving at his parent's place.

The house was large - almost too large. It gave the false impression that Mark's family were some sort of rich politicians or people of old money. None of this was true.

Dorine, being the smart and savvy woman she was, used her father's life insurance money to make clever investments. She tracked all of her expenses and budgeted accordingly. The family didn't have anything they didn't need - there was no room for excess in the Tuan house. That's how Raymond and Dorine were able to fly themselves back to Taiwan every year to visit family. They were frugal.

Mark parked behind Gy, making sure to leave enough room for Tammy and Jackson.

When he entered the house, he was immediately bombarded with hugs from his relatives. Two young boys, no older than five or six, clung to his leg.

"Uncle Mark, uncle Mark!" they shouted at a deafening volume. They were Gy's sons. Twins. Double the trouble, but extremely cute. Definitely Mark's favorite.

"How're my troublemakers, huh?" Mark kneeled down, ruffling the boy's hair.

"We still never got in trouble for the water hose trick." one of them smirked.

"Good men." Mark said proudly, hugging the boys in one arm each before taking his coat and scarf off.

This time, his outfit was less festive, but still very proper and well kept. He wore a silver cardigan thrown over a white button up, and a pair of black slacks that hugged his long legs nicely.

"Where's Tam?" Raymond asked, looking past Mark as if someone else was still coming in.

"They'll be here any moment. I drove alone." Mark replied, accepting the hug from his father. Mark and Raymond were very close, and little words needed to be spoken in order for them to understand each other.

Mark headed into the kitchen, making his rounds and offering hugs to each family member. Aunts, uncles, grandparents, and cousins were gathered around, the dining room buzzed with conversation, and Mark almost had to yell in order to let his mother know he was going upstairs to visit his old room.

As he ascended the white carpeted staircase, he was hit with bouts of nostalgia, seeing all of the family photos that lined the wall up the stairs.

Pictures of Mark, his siblings, and his parents on their various trips around the states; Disneyland, Arizona, New York.

He smiled warmly to himself, finally letting go of his anxiety about today and giving in to the unmistakable warmth that Christmas brings - whether it's the fact that he's surrounded by loved ones, there's good food being cooked, or that he's got a house over his head and clothes on his back. Christmas truly brought out the best feelings in him, regardless of whatever else was going on in his life.

Sauntering over to his old room, he tapped hesitantly on the door before pushing it open. He wasn't sure why he knocked, but he figured he better just in case. He didn't know if his parents had turned it into a guest room or not.

They didn't.

The room was just as Mark remembered it. Same wallpaper, same bed, same toys. Nothing was out of place. His mother had done it again - being perfect; everything had its place.

Mark plops himself down on the blue cotton and polyester blend, the bed is soft yet firm. Just like he remembered it.

Minutes go by as he runs his hands over the blanket, soaking in every ounce of nostalgia he can. He lowers himself and rests it against the soft pillow.

It isn't long before he falls asleep.

"Oh, shit."

Mark is woken up by the sounds of someone fumbling with the door handle. His eyes shoot open, and he stares at the doorway where Jackson is standing, dumbfoundedly. There's a bottle of wine in his hand - a gift for his parents, presumably - and a lame Santa hat on his blonde head.

Mark feels himself get anxious again. Jackson seemed to always find himself in the worst places at the worst times.

"I'm really, really sorry-" he attempts to apologize before Mark can interrupt him.

"What are you even doing?" Mark snarls. And man, if looks could kill.

"I was looking for um," Jackson seems genuinely sorry, and it's almost pathetic how sorry he looks, standing there with his wine and his silly hat. "Bathroom?" he whispers, voice cutting out near the end.

"Two doors down." Mark replies with a sigh, twirling his fingers into the direction of the bathroom, using his other hand to rub the middle of his eyes as if he's got a migraine.

"Alright, great. What are you doing in here, by the way?" Jackson doesn't leave. Instead he closes the door behind him and takes a slow step toward the redhead, examining the surroundings just as Mark did a while ago.

"This was my room- Uh, is my room." Mark stutters, eyeing Jackson's movements carefully.

Why wasn't he leaving.

"Hey man," Jackson sighs. He places the bottle of wine on the nightstand and takes an uninvited seat down next to Mark, sinking into the mattress, and nearly touching Mark's thigh with his own. "Look, this may sound odd, but I need your help."

"What do you mean?" Mark asks quickly, not making eye contact with Jackson but instead looking at his body as if to question what the other was doing sitting next to him.

"It's your parents. I'm nervous." he shrugs lightly, looking over at Mark for solace.

Mark's eyes finally meet with Jacksons. The boy's dark eyes and serious eyes are now soft and doe-like, almost making Jackson seem a lot younger than he actually was.

Mark lets out a sigh, he understands how Jackson is feeling. Even though he isn't in the same position, he can imagine just how nerve wracking it would be surrounded by his own family, especially on a busy holiday, and especially when he's dating their daughter.

"Don't overthink it," he says back to Jackson, making the boy smile. "You have every right to be nervous, my parents are a bit intimidating. Just focus on not saying anything offensive, and make sure you laugh at my dad's horrible jokes and you'll be fine."

"Ah" Jackson breathes.

"They'll love you. Don't worry." Mark scrunches his mouth a little, unsure of why he's even helping Jackson at all.

"That's some sound advice, bro." Jackson replies, making Mark cringe a little at the name, remembering that Jackson is the ultimate jock, even if he is well educated and determined.

"Well, I should get going. My mom will want me to help her set up the home theatre to play Christmas music." Mark tells the boy as he stands up, preparing for the door.

There's a soft hand on Mark's wrist just then as Jackson pulls the boy gently back down to the bed.

"No, don't go just yet-" he mumbles. "Uh, have a drink with me. It'll calm my nerves. I'm not ready yet."

Mark feels a little uneasy, but the warm hand gripping his wrist sends small jolts of electricity running up his arm and into his stomach, where it settles and fizzles.

"Yeah, I guess I could. I mean, sure." Mark's voice is a little shaky. He knows he isn't good with alcohol, but he doesn't want to pass up the chance to get on Jackson's good side.

Half a glass into their first drink, Mark is rewarded handsomely for staying.

Jackson extends a long arm and places it around the redhead's shoulders, making him lean back into Jackson from the weight. He has to use his neck muscles to keep himself steady as Jackson embraces him.

"I appreciate your help man. I know you and I never really had a chance to talk, even though we saw each other around the house a few times." he says to Mark.

Mark immediately gets a flashback of the time that Tammy was unloading groceries into the house and Jackson came out in his underwear and no shirt on to help her. His skin was beaded with sweat, and his hair was wetted and disheveled as if he just finished an intense workout.

Although Mark didn't know it at the time, that was the first time Jackson slept over.

"I don't really speak to Tammy's boyfriend, to tell you the truth. I'd rather get to know them when the time is right and I actually like the guy." Mark admitted.

Jackson shifted his weight, releasing Mark from his shoulder's grip. He wrestled with the proper words to say, "Do you like me?" he says. It's not a forced question, but it bears enough weight to make Mark nervous.

The redhead takes another sip of his white wine, feeling the harsh burn collect at the back of his throat, making him nearly cough. When he gulps the drink down, he feels a tingle in his cheeks, and a rush of blood pool around his face. Wow, the alcohol was working quickly.

Mark pauses before he answers, knowing that he has to be careful about what he says. He doesn't want to upset Jackson, but he also doesn't want to embarrass himself by saying anything that could be construed as weird or creepy.

"Yeah, I really like you actually." he burps.

Fuck.

Jackson takes the words in happily, adjusting himself on the bed with a dumb grin, looking away to hide it from Mark.

Mark stares down at his feet in horror. Where the hell did that come from?

It isn't until another few minutes that Mark realizes the true terror of what he's just done.

Jackson inches closer yet again, this time his thigh is actually touching Mark's, and his shoulder brushes past Mark's every once and a while.

Mark tenses up, unsure of what to do with his hands, so he awkwardly fidgets with the stem of his wine glass, leaving sweat marks from how clammy his hands have become.

"I saw your body this morning, by the way." Jackson says nonchalantly, staring up at the ceiling of the room, sipping at his wine.

Mark nearly chokes on his drink. "Um, huh?" he spits out.

"Your robe. It was kind of revealing, I'm not going to lie." Jackson answers just as calmly. "You have a nice body. You're an athlete I'm guessing. Judging by the tone I'd say it's more of an endurance sort of sport. Tennis... Swimming, maybe?"

Mark deadpanned. How was he able to tell that Mark was a swimmer just from seeing a small portion of his body. And even more concerning was the fact that he had even seen Mark's body at all.

"Yeah, I swim sometimes." Mark confirmed.

Jackson's smile was one of satisfaction, as if he'd guessed an answer correct on Jeopardy or something. Mark couldn't figure out how he was having so much fun in this small room with him instead of being downstairs where all the action was.

Maybe he really was that nervous to meet him parents. Or maybe, he just really wanted to be with Mark.

No, that couldn't be it. Mark told himself, reminding himself of how happy he was with Tammy for the last number of months.

"Why were you looking at my body?" Mark said, slightly irate.

Jackson didn't dignify that with a response for another minute before smugly stating, "Well, you sure got an eyeful of mine. So I guess we're even now."

Mark's throat went dry and his Adam's apple did a large dip up and down. He couldn't tell if it was the Sauvignon Blanc or the way Jackson was constantly flirting with him that made his cheeks a bright and warm color of red.

Mark clears his throat, not letting Jackson even an inch into his mind to know what he's thinking. But, somehow, someway, Jackson figures it out.

"You can touch it if you want to." he says into Mark's ear, his tone shifting quickly from smug and playful to serious and lust-filed.

Mark shivers at the sudden wind on his nape. He turns his head to the right only enough to be sort of facing Jackson, almost as if to say what?

"My body. You can touch it if you want. I don't mind." Jackson repeats, this time no less sexy as the last.

Mark feels the electricity growing again in the pit of his stomach, Jackson's deep voice was like a drug being injected directly into his blood stream.

Before he can answer, Jackson does the honors of grabbing Mark's slender hand and pressing it firmly against his own chest. Mark's fingertips are white and cold from how nervous he is, and the collision of his hand with Jackson's warm, round and solid chest make the boy's heart flutter a little.

Mark doesn't speak, scared of ruining the moment with any collection of dumb comments he would no doubt make. Instead his mouth remains closed, his calm silence acting as consent for Jackson to continue.

He's running Mark's hand downward now, the fingertips gliding and dancing around the buttons from Jackson's shirt, inching their way down towards his belt.

The tension was strong to begin with, but as Jackson moves Mark's hand closer and closer to his wait, the tension in the air becomes nearly palpable. Almost as if they were moving closer and closer to the edge of a cliff.

Mark sharply exhales once his hand is placed delicately around the edge of Jackson's belt buckle. This alerts the other boy, and he retracts his hand from Mark's, leaving it there for the boy to make his own decision.

Mark looks up at Jackson's face with a scared and honest expression, waiting for the other boy to say something.

Jackson doesn't answer though, he just sips again on his drink and places it back on the stand.

Mark's left to his own devices; he's caught in between a rock and a hard place, literally. It looks as though there's an unmistakable bulge forming beneath Jackson's silk pants.

Mark's bottom lip quivers, noticing how close his hand is to Jackson's bulge. It would only take a small motion for him to touch it. He could even play it off as an accident, if Jackson wasn't totally into it.

But he was into it, wasn't he?

There was only one way to find out.

Mark swallowed past the dryness in his throat and continued the trail down Jackson's body. He prodded at Jackson's belt buckle, running his cold fingers behind it and tracing them around the inside of Jackson's waistband.

Jackson closed his eyes a little, his breathing heavier, but he didn't stop Mark.

Mark, gaining what can only be described as fake confidence, placed his wine down and let his other hand join in, exploring Jackson's body.

Mark's left hand was placed on Jackson's thigh, stroking it gently but not tightly, while his other hand continued to brush against the boy's belt and waistband.

Before Mark could advance, the sound of people coming up the stairs caught his attention. He withdrew his hands and nearly knocked himself off the bed.

Jackson heard them too, and was already making towards the door. The voices were recognizable to Mark - his aunt Judie and his little brother Joey.

"It's just Joey and Judie. Don't worry, they'll just go to Joey's room." Mark reassured the nervous Jackson who looked like he was about to fight whoever opened the door.

"You better go downstairs now and make sure Tammy isn't looking for you. This was a pretty long 'bathroom break'" Mark reminded him.

"You're right..." Jackson agreed, his voice sounding a little disappointed.

Now that things had calmed down, Mark's feelings of guilt and betrayal began to seep into his skin again. He shivered, this time not at Jackson's voice but at the thought of someone walking in on him with Jackson.

What a horrible spectacle it'd be for his entire family to find out that something happened between Tammy's boyfriend and her little brother.

"Alright, I'll just go then." Jackson said lowly, pausing for a moment as if he was waiting for Mark to stop him.

Mark sniffed and looked down, wanting to escape Jackson's gaze.

Jackson nodded and disappeared out the door.

Even though nothing happened between the two, Mark felt a sting of sadness after Jackson was gone. Which was odd, since Mark was sure that the other boy was straight.

Even still, sitting alone in his bedroom made Mark realize he enjoyed the company of anybody.

The commotion only continued under him; the adults were getting into the liquor cabinet no doubt, yelling and laughing merrily. The kids were playing, screaming and laughing at each other.

Mark sat on his bed swishing around an almost empty glass of wine, in a house surrounded by everyone but still completely and utterly alone.

Aside from A.J. not many other people paid much attention to him. It happened so often that Mark didn’t even notice it anymore.

Even his own sister Tammy would prefer to have Mark stay down in the basement all summer rather than invite him out to do something.

Mark knew that if he were to sit in his childhood bedroom for the next four hours, and then head downstairs once the dinner party was over, that nobody would even notice he was gone.

It was sad but true; he knew he was loved, but he so easily fell through the cracks sometimes.

That’s why, when there was a soft tap on the door, Mark’s hopes escalated. He pulled himself out of his sad reverie and made for the door, wanting to see who came to check up on him.

Standing in front of him was Jackson, the same silly hat on, and the same handsome smile.

Mark wasn’t sure what to say, but before he could even say anything he was picked up and pinned against his bedroom wall, dropping his wine glass and wrapping his legs around Jackson’s waist.

Jackson showered Mark’s exposed neck with a fountain of warm and wet kisses, leaving the boy’s breathing labored as he tried to take in everything that was happening so suddenly.

“I couldn’t leave you up here, not after all that-“ Jackson breathed between frantic kisses, lighting Mark’s insides on fire.

Mark, being the virgin he was, felt as though his legs would give out if he was standing on them with his full weight. The excitement of having Jackson’s strong arms support him made the redhead’s dick swell under his underwear.

Jackson effortlessly carried Mark over to the bed where he pushed him down onto his back. Mark backed up a bit until his head was laying on the pillow, unsure of what to do next.

Jackson noticed Mark’s apprehension and took the lead, slowly removing his clothing for Mark to watch. And boy, did he watch.

It looked as though Mark was undressing Jackson using telekinesis, the way his eyes fixated hungrily onto Jackson’s form.

Jackson shimmied out of his blazer, making the motions as sensual as he could, knowing that Mark was more than enjoying the show. He unbuttoned the first three buttons and then stopped, using his left index finger to beckon Mark over.

Mark gulped and then crawled over the bed until he was in front of Jackson. He happily took over, taking off the remaining buttons and then opening Jackson’s shirt completely, revealing that hard and tight body.

Mark bit down on his lower lip, running his palms over Jackson’s chest. His warmth felt as though it was penetrating through his own skin and up Mark’s fingers, warming the redhead with every caress.

Jackson wasted no time unbuckling his pants and dropping them quickly until they were bunch up at his feet.

“Your turn.” Jackson instructed, his tone low and sexy.

Mark’s nerves slowly dissipated with the alcohol in his veins, and he does something that he never ever thought he’d do.

In one slightly awkward but complete motion, Mark undid his belt and slid his pants off, then wrestled himself out of his shirt. The whole process took less than thirty seconds, and was about the fastest Mark had ever removed his clothes, all the while Jackson watched patiently, palming the outline of his dick against his boxers.

“Jackson-“ Mark finally cuts into the silence, “What if-“

But Jackson isn’t having any of it. He slowly lowers his body over Mark, making the latter back up in order to compensate for the body.

Jackson’s body towered over Mark’s, making the redhead feel smaller and smaller. Jackson stopped when he his face was positioned directly over Mark’s. He used his hands to support himself, not letting his full weight bare down upon Mark.

Lying under him, pinned to the bed, Mark wanted nothing more than to kiss Jackson’s lips. His sister’s voice rang lowly through the vents every now and again, but Mark was too far into his lust filled daze to pay it any mind now.

“Jackson, kiss me.”

Jackson needed no further convincing, as his lips came crashing down against Mark’s. The kiss was chaste and genuine.

Mark closed his eyes and surrendered himself into Jackson’s mouth, his tongue pushing through the boy’s teeth, dipping and curling at the back of his mouth.

The room was dark and stayed silent, except for the sounds of wet tongues lapping against each other as the two boys let the anticipation they felt over the last two days meet in a fiery, long awaited conclusion.

Mark fed on Jackson’s energy, matching the boy’s rhythms, and began to lift his hips up in order to press them against Jackson’s.

Jackson recognized this and lowered his groin downward to meet Mark’s. Mark let out a high-pitched groan as Jackson grinded tensely against him. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure over Mark’s body.

Somewhere between the kiss and the grinding, and as the kiss deepened, Mark felt the atmosphere become slightly romantic, moving away from the initial strange and taboo vibe they had before. Jackson wasn’t simply making out with Mark; he was connecting with him. Entering his world, and breaking down his barriers.

Mark’s fleeting fears allowed him to go back to exploring the wonder that was Jackson’s body, this time he scratched his hands toward Jackson’s backside.

The boy’s black underwear framed his ass so well, and the meaty, firm cheeks were practically begging Mark to grab onto them.

When he finally got a handful of Jackson’s ass, Mark couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. His private and embarrassing fantasies about Tammy’s boyfriend were finally coming true, and even better – Jackson seemed to really be into him too.

Jackson’s kisses left Mark’s lips and trailed down his jawline and to his neck, leaving small and prominent hickeys everywhere his lips touched; the bruises came through ten fold against Mark’s untouched skin.

“Mark, I really-“ Jackson hummed, working his mouth over the boy’s chest and to his nipples, “wanna-” more and more hungry kisses, “-fuck you” he finally breathed out.

Mark wanted to say yes immediately but he held back, unsure of how it would go, being his first time and all.

The only things that have been down there were his fingers, and when he would finger himself in the shower, it was a bit uncomfortable and didn’t really feel all that much better than regular masturbation.

“I’ve never..” Mark was almost embarrassed to confess his virgin state, “You know..”

Jackson reacted in a way that put Mark’s fears to rest and even excited the boy.

“Don’t worry babe,” he smiled, “I’ve never done it either.”

Mark was usually extremely talented at knowing when someone was lying, but staring into Jackson’s eyes in that moment, he could feel that Jackson was telling the truth.

“But… Tammy?” Mark just couldn’t understand how Jackson, being the way Jackson was, was a virgin. He had multiple girlfriends from what Tammy ranted about, and he was the star of the football team. “You’ve seriously never?”

Jackson nodded and stared earnestly into Mark’s eyes. “I wanted it to be special.”

Not only did this mean that Jackson felt that Mark was special, but that he had every intention of losing his own virginity with the boy.

“I knew I wanted you,” Jackson said, now continuing to nip and kiss at Mark’s nipples. The cool sensation against them made Mark’s nipples become firm buds. “Since the moment I saw you. But I knew I couldn’t have you.”

Mark was lost in Jackson’s voice, his low timbre vibrating against the boys skin, riddling the surface of Mark’s chest with goose bumps. At this point Jackson could recite the entire phone book and it would sound just as sexy to Mark.

Jackson fell to the side of Mark, his hand gently gliding over Mark’s skin and down to the impressive erection that Mark was sporting. When his fingers traced the outline, Mark purred softly under it. He had never been touched like this before, and the thrilling feeling of another person’s hand – Jackson’s hand – made his abdomen burn with excitement.

“Kiss me,” Mark pleaded, looking over at Jackson with a desperate expression. He couldn’t get enough of the blonde’s lips. Jackson licked his lips and slid his tongue back into Mark’s mouth, nipping at his lower lip and kissing deeply into him.

Mark felt his orgasm rise instantly, as Jackson palmed away at his dick. Mark knew he wouldn’t last very long if Jackson continued on like this, so he decided to prolong the experience by letting Jackson fuck him.

“J-Jacks,” he whimpered, “I’m ready.”

“You sure?”

Marked nodded, placing another sweet peck onto Jackson’s lips, “Mhm.”

“Turn over then.” Jackson instructed him with a vibrant expression, a little too excited to be doing this finally.

As Mark rolled his naked body to the side, he suddenly felt a rush of nerves cycle back into his body. “Just go slow, alright?”

“Of course, babe.” Jackson hummed into his ear, nibbling at the lobe slightly. “I’ll never hurt you, I promise. It’ll be the best.”

“You sure?” Mark said back, so low that it was almost inaudible.

“Swear it,” Jackson lulled again, his voice intoxicating Mark further and further, until the redhead was nearly overwhelmed with lust.

Jackson pressed his groin into the lower half of Mark’s back, the thick outline of his cock nestling itself in Mark’s ass cleft.

The sensation of having Jackson’s penis against him was enough to make Mark shudder. He had never touched another boy’s penis, so he had no preference, but from what he could feel pressing against his butt, he knew Jackson was bigger than average.

Still, he continued, remembering what Jackson said about it feeling good.

Jackson’s hand found its way down Mark’s spine, stopping when he reached the band of Mark’s underwear. He lifted the underwear and pushed it down a bit, until it was rested on Mark’s thighs, exposing his plump and unassuming ass.

When he took his dick out and placed it against Mark’s bare skin, the connection felt 100x better than it did when they were clothed. Suddenly everything felt more real. This was actually happening.

“This is all for you, Mark.” Jackson teased, picking his dick up and patting it down a few times against Mark’s left cheek, rubbing some of the pre-cum against Mark, painting his left ass cheek a bit.

Mark arched his back out, wanting to feel Jackson again. He pushed himself up on Jackson, grinding back slowly into him, making Jackson’s mouth practically water.

Jackson took a finger and placed it into Mark’s mouth, making the redhead confused, but he soon realized what was happening. He began licking the finger before promptly sucking on it.

As soon as Jackson deemed his finger lubed, he pressed it timidly against Mark’s arched ass, circling the tip around Mark’s ass ring. The redhead closed his eyes and leaned back into the touch, allowing Jackson to massage and rub the entrance.

This was about as far as Jackson had made it with any other person in terms of sex, so from that point on everything was new to the blonde; he and Mark were learning from each other.

“Just let me know if it hurts, I’ll go slow.” Jackson reassured him, slowly pushing his finger into Mark.

Mark exhaled sharply and put his head down, getting used to the sudden intrusion.

With his right arm wrapped around Mark’s neck holding him in place, Jackson’s left hand worked in and around Mark’s ass, stretching the boy and sending him into a pleasure filled haze.

Mark began to stroke himself, palming the shaft of his cock in rhythm with Jackson, edging himself around his orgasm; chasing it and then letting it die, over and over. The anticipation was eating him alive, and made him want all the more to fuck him and finally give him release.

“It’ll hurt less if you sit on it, babe.” Jackson finally hummed, moving so that he was laying on his back, his throbbing cock lying flat against his stomach expectantly.

Mark hesitated a little before throwing a leg over Jackson’s body, positioning himself over the blonde haired boy; Jackson’s body flexed in small twitches as Mark’s ass cheeks brushed against his thighs, outlining his muscles nicely in the dim light of the room.

Mark took hold of Jackson’s erection, squeezing it gently a couple of times, admiring the sheer girth of it. He placed the head against his entrance, the skin on skin sensation made his lower lip quiver. Mark wasn’t concerned about a condom in that moment, only getting Jackson as far into him as humanly possible.

When it was time for Mark to sit down, he leaned forward, pulling up Jackson by his neck to kiss him again. Their tongues flicked and curled together, massaging the others. If it weren’t for the breathy and passionate kiss, Mark would be letting out moans and grunts of slight pain, as he was now halfway down the length of Jackson.

“Argh, fuck.” Jackson says, his eyes shutting tight and his mouth parted. Mark is almost at the base of his cock, and it feels so, so good to Jackson. The warmth of Mark’s ass hugs against Jackson’s shaft, making the blonde groan lowly.

There’s a soft gasp escaping from Mark’s lips when he reaches the base of Jackson’s cock. He has to break from the kiss and return to his original position in order to regain his composure.

“Mark you feel so good.” Jackson whispers, his two strong hands finding their way around the boy’s naked hips, using them to lift Mark a little and then sliding him back down.

The two work out a fluid rhythm, with Mark pressing down and letting himself fall onto Jackson’s dick and the other bucking up to meet him.

A loud and deep moan sounds from Mark as his legs start to tingle, the exhilaration of being fucked affecting every inch of his body now.

“Shh, shh babe.” Jackson giggles lowly – Mark’s hand immediately flies to his mouth as he remembers that his brother and aunt are in the next room, and Tammy is just beneath them eating.

“You like it?” Jackson’s smugness comes through again, as he witnesses the pure ecstasy he’s able to put Mark into.

Mark doesn’t answer with words; instead he nods back and breathes out, closing his eyes.

Mark doesn’t think it can get any better, but just then Jackson lifts him a little, holding him in place before he rapidly fucks himself into Mark, pounding the other quicker than before for about fifteen seconds. The room is filled with nothing but the slick sound of skin clapping against skin.

When Jackson slows the pace back down, Mark is nearly fainting; collapsing onto the blonde’s chest with a low grumble in the back of his throat.

Even though he’s not touching himself, his arousal is being sent into overdrive, and Mark can feel himself on the edge of climax. He shoots Jackson a look and pleads with his eyes for Jackson to let him cum.

“I want to cum inside you, cool?” Jackson says in a very soft voice, almost too quiet for Mark to hear. The blankets are now on the floor, bunched up near the wall and the two boys are alone, naked on the small bed.

“Mhm,” Mark replies with an airy tone. “I can’t believe it but I’m close too.” he says.

Learning that Mark is close to orgasm gives Jackson another burst of enthusiasm, and he can’t wait to have Mark’s cum all over his chest.

Mark bites down on his lower lip; the electricity shooting up his spine makes him shiver a little. He still can’t believe that he’s doing this with Tammy’s boyfriend, but that doesn’t stop him; Jackson’s dick feels way too good for him to even think for a second about stopping. The only thing going through his mind at that second is having Jackson closer and closer to him.

There are a few beads of sweat forming on Jackson’s forehead as he focuses all of his energy into the last final thrusts. He grabs down on the globes of Mark’s ass, eager fistfuls being used as the love handles.

The smooth rhythm they’ve created ceases, and Jackson amps it up again, bucking himself quickly and deeply into Mark.

Mark mumbles a groan that’s a mix of pain and pleasure, placing his hands on the round and hard chest muscles under him for support. Jackson works his hips around, trying to find Mark’s sweet spot. He stops when he notices Mark tense up, then fixates on that one area, pushing harder and harder into it until Mark’s nails are digging into his flesh.

“Oh, fuck.” Mark’s voice sounds a little scared as he looks down at himself. He shoots three or four ropes of cum all over Jackson’s belly and even his chin, blanketing the blonde with warm liquid.

This sends Jackson over the edge, and soon after he thrusts himself deep into Mark, vibrating with pleasure as the orgasm sends tremors throughout his entire body. Mark’s face flies into Jackson’s then, placing kisses on the side of Jackson’s mouth and the apples of his cheeks.

Jackson is in another world as he lets his cum release into Mark, the orgasm unlike any he has ever had before. He can feel tingling and sparks in his fingertips and toes, his heart pounding through his chest so loud he wonders if Tammy can hear it.

“Mark, you feel so fucking good,” he says to himself, moving his face over to the boy who was now lying at his side. “That was… unreal.”

“Who knew it would feel that good the first time.” Mark whispers, his eyes tracing over the faint glow of Jackson’s face. “I always thought it would be awkward and messy and scary.”

“I guess it just depends on who it’s with. You were perfect, to me.” Jackson says back, pulling on Mark’s chin with a finger before giving him one last kiss.

“I think we should get cleaned up and get back to the party.” Mark says, the realization of what just happened hitting him fully, now that he was mellowing out from the high.

“Lay with me a little longer, k?” Jackson says, breaking Mark’s nerves back down.

Mark smiles. He knows now that Jackson still wants to be around him.

"You're so beautiful Mark."

It was the first time he felt like he was important; as crazy as it sounds. If Jackson was X, then Mark was O.

Lying there in their sticky, hot, sweaty aftermath – it was perfect.

“Babe?” Jackson says again, making Mark blush with an innocent smile.

“Yes?”

“That was the best gift I’ve ever received.”

“Me too. Merry Christmas Jackson.”

“Merry Christmas Mark.”

#got7 #got7 mark #got7 jackson #got7 fanfic #fanfic #gay fanfic #kpop #jackson wang #mark tuan #yaoi #fic #markson #exes and ohs #ohhhkenneth #romance

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