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deans-baby-momma · 3 years

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Once In A Lifetime

A/N: Well guys. I guess you can say I fell down a rabbit hole....DEEP down a rabbit hole. And I’m going to blame Walker. LOL I’ve always been a Jensen/Dean girl with Jared/Sam curiosity and after a dream I had a few nights ago, THIS happened. Now the dream was only the first part of this story, meeting them in a restaurant but them, while writing it took on a life of it’s own and I am not sorry in the least.

Summary: During your shift as a waitress as a restaurant in Austin, you are surprised to find two of your favorite celebrities in your section. How will that encounter cause you to have a once in a lifetime experience?

W/C: 11,138 words ( I’m not the least bit sorry)

Y/N: Your Name; Y/E/E: Your employment establishment

Warnings: ogling, fantasies, smut, p in v, fingering, v on v, oral (both giving and receiving), fisting, anal play, cum play, dirty talk, slight breeding kink, squirting, daddy kink, mama kink

"Holy shit," I exclaim before clapping my palm over my mouth as there were three adorable children in the vicinity. "Sorry. My name is Y/N and I'll be your server today," I say as I try to calm down. Jared and Genevieve Padalecki were seated in my zone at Y/E/E. "Can I interest you in some appetizers or some coloring pages and crayons for the kids?"

I can't help but glance around at the five of them. They two boys sporting the longer locks like their dad and the little girl, all dolled up with her light brown hair flowing down over her shoulders. They were three of the six most adorable kids in the world; the other three being the Ackles kids but I had yet to see them in person, only on the computer.

“We will take some buffalo cauliflower bites and some mozzarella cheese sticks with marinara,” the loveliest voice I’d ever heard spoke. I look toward Genevieve to see her smiling at me, her brown eyes sparkling.

“And-” I pause to swallow. “-for drinks?”

“Whatever is on tap for Jared, I’ll take a sweet tea with lemon and the kids will have Sprite,” she tells me, the smile on her face unmoving. ‘God she’s gorgeous,’ I think to myself as I write down the orders. ‘Jared is one lucky son of a bitch.’

I grin as I tell them I will be right back with their drinks and head toward the server area. I throw my pad down on the counter and lean against it, my palms flat against the granite. How the fuck am I going to get through serving them? I have had a crush on Genevieve since I watched Wildfire a few years ago. And then when I caught an episode of Supernatural and got a glimpse of Jared, I was in lust, for both of them.

And now I had to cater to and serve them while being professional and less of a crazy fan. Yea that isn’t going to happen. I know myself too well. I’m going to do or say something that will absolutely humiliate myself in front of the two celebrities I have adored for years.

Thanks to some tactical breathing exercises while waiting on their food and an internal pep talk, I got through serving the Padalecki family and when they asked for the bill I was a bit saddened that their visit was coming to an end. I knew I’d probably never see them again.

As I printed out their receipt I lamented the fact that the one time I met anyone famous it was at work and I couldn’t ask for an autograph or photo with them. I smiled as I gave them the sales slip and walked away.

From my post behind the server’s desk I watched as the five of them got up and walked toward the door. Genevieve looked my way and smiled and waved as they left. I returned the gesture and giggled.

After making sure the coast was clear, I approached their table to collect the payment and take it to the register. What I wasn’t expecting with the cash, was a handwritten note with a phone number on it.

‘Y/N your service was magnificent. Here’s a little tip for you and a bigger one awaits, if you are interested. (xxx)xxx-xxxx. ~Gen’

Did she really expect me to call her? Was this even her real number? What kind of tip is she referring to anyway? I look at the money in my hand to see that they have paid almost $50 more than their bill! What bigger tip than that could it be?!

I waited until my shift was over and I was in the comfort of my own vehicle before I pulled the piece of paper with the number out of my apron.

Opening the text app with shaky fingers, I typed out the response I had thought of all evening.

Hey. Is this Genevieve Padalecki? It's Y/N from Y/E/E. I was your waitress earlier.

Almost immediately my phone pings and I see that whomever I texted had responded.

Hey Y/N. Yes, it's me. Glad to see you found my note.

Yea, I did. What I can't figure out is why you left it. Did I do something wrong?

Oh sweetie no! You were the perfect hostess. Sweet, friendly, easy on the eyes ;)

Whoa, was this married woman flirting with me? This famous married woman who had an attractive, sexy, famous as well husband.

Uh, thanks.

You caught not only my eye but Jare's as well. We'd like to get to know you better. Have you already gotten off? From work, I mean. Ha!

Ok, if that isn't flirting then I don't know what is. That was definitely an innuendo, right?

Yes. I'm sitting in my car.

Wanna come over? The kids are in bed. Us adults can talk without interruptions.

Uh, okay. I'm gonna kinda need your address. I might be a fan but I'm not that kind of fan.

Gen sends me her address, along with the code to get into the gate. I realize they live in the gated community about 45 minutes away.

I look in the rearview and notice my hair is frizzy and half of it has fallen out of the ponytail it was in. I really didn't want to show up on their doorstep looking like a charity case but then again was I going to pass up the opportunity to get to know two of my favorite celebrities?

If you aren't interested we completely understand.

Gen's message breaks me out of my reverie and I look at it, deciding what the hell.

On my way now.

We can't wait to see you again Y/N!

I place my phone in the cupholder and start the car up, still in shock that I'm headed to the personal home of Jared and Genevieve Padalecki.

What universe am I in?!

I get to their house and Genevieve meets me at the door.

"Hey Y/N," she greets me with a smile. "Did you have any trouble getting in the gate?"

"No, it opened right up as soon as I punched in the code."

Gen is dressed down for the evening. Well, as dressed down as I'm sure famous rich people can be. She is wearing velour sweat shorts, probably some name brand designer and her t-shirt has the Family Business Brewery logo and name printed on it.

And here I look like a slob who can't care for herself. I so do not belong here.

"Come on in," Genevieve continues as she opens the door wide. "Jared is in the kitchen making us ladies some drinks."

"Uh, I don't know. I mean, I still have to drive home later."

"Or you could stay," she says as she takes my hand and stands right in front of me. Genevieve is just a couple inches taller than I am so we are practically face to face.

"Oh."

That's all I can say. It is glaringly obvious now what this visit is. And if I said I wasn't down for it I'd be lying!

Gen smiles as she takes her free hand and reaches behind me, pulling the tie from my hair. I feel the weight of it fall to my shoulders.

"That's better," she says then turns and pulls me further into the house.

We get to the kitchen and Jared is standing there, dressed down also in a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt. I can't stop myself as my eyes run down the length of his body.

The t-shirt doesn't do much to hide the breath of his shoulders or the bulk of his pecs, the arms of the fabric stretched tight over his biceps. As my eyes wander lower, I realize that all the rumors I'd heard about the heft and length of his 'conda were not exaggerated as I can definitely see the outline of it behind the silky material of his shorts. But what really draws my attention is the definition of his calf muscles; even relaxed they distend from his legs, the skin taut over them.

"Hey. You made it," his voice brings my attention back to his face. "I'm Jared."

"I know," I say sincerely, internally wincing at how nervous I sound. I smile to hide the uneasiness.

"Yea, I kinda figured that out at Y/E/E by your reaction," he chuckles as he hands a glass to his wife. "Gen wanted a margarita but we have some craft beer in the fridge if that is more your taste. It's really good. Our friends, Jensen and Dee, own a brewery."

"Family Business," I state with a nod. "I've wanted to go check it out but haven't had a chance, yet."

"Well, maybe we can get you a private tour sometime," he tells me with a wink. "Now, name your poison."

I settle for a Cosmic Cowboy, Jared grabs a Grackle for himself and the three of us make our way to the living room.

Their house is magnificent. There are logs, de-barked, as beams across the ceiling and even the staircase is made of the same type of wood. I'd seen it in a family picture on the internet but never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I'd be inside this home to appreciate the beauty of it.

The Padalecki's and I talk for what seems like hours. We all seem to have so much in common. Eventually I had traded the beer for one of Jared's famous margaritas, thanks to Gen's suggestion and before I knew it I was on my third one and not feeling any pain.

A smile was glued to my face and I couldn't stop giggling. I was drinking with Jared and Genevieve Padalecki! Who would have ever thought that.

Jared takes the almost empty glass from my hand and laughs at the pout I give him.

"Ok lush," he says with his own deep giggle. "If you get too drunk we can't talk about what we invited you here for."

In my inebriated state, I say words I never in a million years thought I would ever utter. "You want to fuck me."

Jared looks surprised and glances at Genevieve, which causes me to look at her as I realize what I just said.

Can you go from intoxicated to sober in less than 5 seconds? Because I just did!

"Oh my god!" I exclaim. "I'm so sorry. I have no filter when I've been drinking."

I start to fidget and prepare to be thrown out of their house. I am taken aback when Gen smiles and says, "Yes we do."

There is a trail of clothing from the top of the staircase down the hall to where we are now. My body is being held up against the wall as Jared devours my mouth, Gen's lips on my neck and shoulder.

"You are so fucking sexy," she whispers and I whimper into her husband's mouth. "You caught my eye as soon as we walked into Y/E/E this evening. I knew I wanted you and Jared agreed."

"Let's take this into the bedroom," Jared murmurs against my lips and hoists me up by the back of my thighs, urging me to wrap my legs around his waist.

He carries me into the room with Genevieve following closely behind. He lays me back on the bed and hovers over me, his body pressed tightly to mine. I can feel his erection digging into my lower stomach.

"Jared," Gen calls in a sultry, seductive voice. "Share."

Jared pushes up off of me and Gen steps between my open knees. "Let's get these panties off of you," she says and I notice that she has already removed hers plus her bra and is standing at the edge of the bed in all her naked glory.

To say Genevieve Padalecki was beautiful would be an understatement but her nude? Well it just amped up the sexiness by a bajillion. She has no hair on her pussy, shaved (or waxed) clean. Her tits are perfect handfuls with pretty little rosy pink nipples that are erect and hardened.

She has pulled her soft brown hair up into a makeshift bun and I watch as she reaches forward, her dainty fingers curling into the hem of my plain panties. Thank god I took the time before work to landscape!

She gasps as my equally shaven cunt is exposed as she pulls the garment down my legs and off my feet.

"Such a pretty little pussy huh Jared?"

Jared comes back into my line of vision and he smiles at me before his eyes trail down to look at my bare body.

"So pretty," he says breathlessly as his hands come up and around his wife, his big hands covering her tits. "Bet it tastes so good. You gonna let Gen eat you out Y/N? Let her taste that sweet box."

I nod and he tsks. "Words Y/N. Use your words little kitten."

I swallow audibly and speak. "Yes. I want Gen to eat my pussy."

Gen smiles as she turns her head and kisses Jared passionately. After a few seconds though he pulls away, and pushes her closer to me. "Get to licking, baby while I open you up."

Gen bends down and I feel her hands on the inside of my thighs close to my center. The first touch of her tongue against my folds has me moaning like a porn star. She doesn't even breach my slit, just licks up the middle and then sucks on my outer lips.

She moans and I look to see Jared has disappeared, on his knees behind her eating her out as she does the same to me. I can already feel the coil deep inside constricting. This is the most erotic sexual experience I have ever or will ever have!

When Gen does finally lick me open, she immediately wraps her lips around my clit suckling and flicking the tip with her soft tongue. I feel a finger stroking around my entrance before it enters me.

"Mmmmm," Gen moans and I open my eyes that I didn't even realize were closed. Jared is back in my line of sight, looking down as he notches his cock at her entrance.

He then places his hands on her hips and drives himself forward, burying inside his wife. Gen moans against my skin and I feel that coil tightening. I don't want to cum just yet so I brace against it, holding my release back.

With Jared's deep hard thrusts Gen's body bounces forward pushing her face closer into my pussy. She trades her finger inside me with her tongue and her thumb is rubbing circles around my clit as she licks my fluttering walls.

My orgasm is bearing down and I'm beginning to fear I won't be able to hold it back.

Jared is grunting and groaning behind her, his eyes fixate on his wife's task of fingering me and licking my clit and labia.

There is so much pressure between my legs I have to bite my lip to contain the scream that is begging to be released.

"Holy fuck!" Gen exclaims, pulling my attention to her. "Look babe. I have my whole hand inside her."

Jared's eyes travel to the spot and they widen as they take in the view. "Fuck! That is so goddamned hot."

Gen begins a soft thrust with her arm, twisting her wrist and letting her fingers hit my sweet spot. I see stars as I yell out. "I'm gonna cum!"

"Go on Y/N. Cum all over Gen. She wants it."

I let go and the pressure lessens as I feel my walls constrict and liquid squirts out around Gen's hand.

"God that was hot!" They both exclaim simultaneously and laugh. Gen bends down and begins licking and suckling at my cunt as Jared continues his hard pace.

He slaps her ass twice and then stills, groaning as I'm sure he is shooting his load inside her. Gen places her forehead on my inner thigh, catching her breath as Jared pulls out and looks down with a smile.

"Baby you are leaking so much cum it's dripping on the floor."

When Gen moves out of the way, I get my first look at Jared's massive dick. And when I say massive, I mean massive. Not only is it ginormous in length but the girth is unbelievable. How does he keep something that size hidden so well?

His hand is around the still-hard member and he looks at me as he fists up and down. "You ready?"

"Yes," I tell him confidently although inside I am not.

Gen has left the room, gone into their ensuite to clean up I'm sure. "Should we wait?" I ask hesitantly.

"Nah, she knows I plan to fuck your brains out. She'll rejoin shortly."

“Okay,” I say with a nod and watch as Jared climbs onto the bed, walking on his knees to place himself between my legs. He is still fisting his cock, the mixture of his and his wife’s release lubricating the movement.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks tentatively and I look up at him. He has one palm on the mattress beside my head and is hovering over me, but not touching.

I nod and then with a quirk of his eyebrow I remember his request, to use words. “Yes. Please kiss me Jared.”

Jared leans down and brushes his lips against mine softly but firmly. When his tongue touches the seam of my mouth, I open for him allowing him to lick into me. The kiss quickly becomes deeper, more passionate. My hands automatically reach up and my fingers entwine in the long locks on his head, pulling him closer.

Losing his balance, Jared falls on top of me, his hand that was holding him up, cupping the side of my face as we both get lost in the kiss. I can feel his moist, damp dick on my stomach and it causes me to writhe. God, I so desperately want that monster inside me!

The bed dips with Gen’s return and her hands run over the part of my skin that is visible under Jared’s large form.

“You two look so fucking hot together,” she whispers as she kisses along my neck. “Y/N, you going to let Jared fuck you? Feel that big dick of his filling up that perfect little pussy?”

I can’t answer her because Jared is still kissing me senseless so I whimper and dig my fingers into his scalp. Her words are music to my ears, the assurance and suggestion of what all he is planning to do to me all the encouragement I need. She is okay with me fucking Jared; she is actually urging it. I pull away, opening my eyes to see his hazel ones, lidded and filled with lust.

“Fuck me Jared,” I say and he smiles as he lifts himself and grabs his dick, notching it at my entrance.

“Ready baby?”

I nod and smile before saying, “More than ready.”

The stretch of my walls around his dick is a pleasured pain. It feels so good as he keeps sliding deeper in until it feels as if his tip is going to puncture through my cervix. I look down between us to see that he is to the root inside me and it makes me wetter, if that’s even possible.

Gen pinches my chin between her thumb and fingers and turns my head to look at her. “Y/N, Jared is going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” I answer breathlessly.

Gen claims my lips with her own as Jared slowly and torturously pulls out until just the head of his dick is inside me. I feel his hands grip my hips and then he plunges into me in one swift movement. I can’t help but cry into her mouth as he sits the same fast hard pace as he had with her, his dick stretching my pussy and digging in deep.

I pull away from Gen’s mouth to yell. “HOLY SHIT! OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD!”

“Yea, you like that don’t ya?” Jared pants as he keeps thrusting into my willing body. “You like being impaled on my big dick huh?”

“Yes! Yes! YES!”

Gen reaches between us and uses her fingertip to rub circles on my clit, making that coil deep inside me tighten. I am going to be cumming any minute now, I know it. I can’t hold it back even if I tried.

“You going to let Jared fill you up. Pump you full of his cum until you’re leaking like I was? Yea, you are, aren’t you? You want to feel him throbbing and shooting his load into your womb.”

Her words make my eyes roll into the back of my head and I scream as I feel my climax bearing down. Without any more prompting from either of them, I once again feel that pressure from earlier and before I know it I am squirting out around Jared’s dick, my release splashing against his thighs.

“Fuck!” he exclaims as he ramps up his efforts and suddenly I feel the warmth of his cum and the throb of his length as he empties inside me, his grunts and groans barely heard over the blood pumping through my ears.

Jared claims my mouth again, his cock still buried deep in my pussy as it softens.

I just fucked this man while his wife watched, after having her way with me. Whose life is this?!

My eyes slowly open as I come to consciousness. I am hot, sweaty and uncomfortable and the need to pee is overwhelming. I go to roll over but am met with resistance, from both behind and in front of me. What the hell?

I fully open my eyes and take in the view. That is not my ceiling and this is not my bed. My mattress has never been this soft, even when it was new. I look down and see the ivory sheets and the maroon comforter and it all comes back to me.

I fucked Jared AND Genevieve Padalecki! I am in their bed, in their house snuggled up between them. I had sex with a married couple; not once, not twice but three times they fucked the daylights out of me. And I enjoyed every second of it.

I squirm as I feel something moving inside me, slowly making its way out of my body and sigh when I feel a clump of Jared’s cum slide out and down my ass, landing on the sheet under me. God, he cummed so hard and so much last night, filling both me and Gen up.

And as good as it felt, it tasted even better. Especially out of Gen’s pussy. I had licked it right up as it poured out of her hole and onto my lips and tongue and she reciprocated before we teamed up and took turns swallowing him down, his palms cupping the back of our heads as we knelt in front of him, licking and sucking his cock.

My bladder takes me out of my reminiscence as the urge to piss becomes palpable and I wiggle and shift until I am out from under Jared’s arm and go to crawl over Gen’s sleeping form, unintentionally waking her.

“Hey sweetie. Where are you going?” she asks sleepily and the torpor in her voice is sexy and sensuous.

“I gotta pee,” I tell her and she smiles before lifting her head to kiss me.

“Ok baby. Hurry back.”

I walk into the ensuite and quickly sit on the toilet to do my business, still reeling from the events of last night. How the hell did I end up here? And how am I going to recover from having my dreams come true? How am I supposed to go back to my normal, boring existence after such an experience?

As I finish up and wash my hands, I decide that I’m going to leave while the leaving is good. What if they regret it? What if it wasn’t what they expected? What if I was just a first choice when they decided to have a threesome? Too many what if’s and not enough answers for my taste.

I tiptoe back into their room and grab my panties from the floor, pulling them on when I realize the rest of my clothing is thrown throughout the hallway. Shit! If the kids were up and strolling around the house they would see the waitress from the restaurant in their house half naked.

“Y/N?” Gen’s voice causes me to turn my head to see her up on one elbow looking at me confused. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

“Y-yea. I think that would be best, don’t you?”

“Hell no. Get your perky little ass back in the bed,” she said authoritatively. “And take off those panties. I want to be able to touch you and caress you.”

I do as she says and she scoots closer to her husband as she pats the mattress in front of her. I climb in beside her and she promptly pulls me to her, her hand cupping my sex as she kisses along my ear. She whispers, “I’m never going to get tired of this pretty little pussy,” as she begins drawing circles on my clit and running her fingers down my folds. "Could eat it everyday and never get enough.”

I whimper at her words and she smiles against my skin. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? Me eating you out everyday, fucking you with my tongue, my fingers, my fist. Shit, I’m getting wet just thinking about it.”

Her fingers tease my opening before two of them slide inside, curling up to hit that sweet spot. My back arches off the bed as I moan. “Yea, you like that don’t you. You like me fingering you.” She scissors her digits open and closed as we both groan at the slick that has accumulated.

“Cum baby,” she urges. “Come on Mama’s hand.”

My climax comes out of nowhere as Gen sits up, propping her body with her free hand as he other works me furiously through my release. I watch her with bated breath as she removes her hand and licks her fingers clean. “Mmm, tasty.”

When she is done, she leans down and kisses me, her tongue prodding into my open lips, letting me taste the sweetness of my tang on it. I run my fingers through her hair, fisting them.

“Jesus, what a sight to wake up to,” we hear Jared’s groggy voice and pull apart, looking at him. His hazel eyes are sparkling and there is a smug grin on his lips. “I could get used to this.” Gen turns and kisses him just as passionately as we had just kissed and I hear Jared groan, knowing he is tasting the remnants of my release.

Ok, so maybe this wasn’t something they regretted. This was what they both wanted and still want and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want it too. Maybe I had been the first opportunity they’d come across when they decided to have a threesome but I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. I would gladly take whatever they wanted to give.

And from the sounds and sights coming from the bed beside me, I was about to have another out of this world sexual escapade with two of the hottest people on the planet.

I’m sitting in the kitchen at the bar in my panties and a t-shirt Gen gave me drinking a cup of coffee and watching Jared move about the kitchen, cooking eggs and making toast.

A pair of slender arms wrap around me from behind, startling me. “Morning baby,” Gen purrs as she kisses my shoulder.

I tense up afraid of getting caught if one of their kids walk in. “Uh, where’re the kids?”

“It’s Wednesday. They always have a playdate with the Ackles kids on Wednesday,” Gen says as she comes around and sits beside me. “We’re good. Francine took them over and will bring them back this afternoon.”

“Oh. Okay,” I say hesitantly. I’m relieved that I don’t have to worry about being found out but I’m also nervous because the three of us are alone in the house. What exactly did they have planned?

“It’s okay sweetheart,” Jared says as he sits two plates of eggs, toast and jam in front of his wife and myself. “We all need to talk anyway. And the kids do not need to hear what we have to discuss.”

Well, there goes my good feeling down the drain. Now is when they are going to drop the bomb; tell me that it was all fun and games but they’ve satisfied their curiosity and I’m on my own. God, how can I be so dumb. What made me think that two celebrities would want me to stick around?

I push the food around on my plate as I try to come up with a way to take the blow and leave with my head held high.

“Jared Tristan,” Gen admonishes. “Look what you’ve done. You went and made her feel bad. Honey,” she says as she places a hand on mine. “It’s not bad; what we want to talk about. I promise.” She leans over and places a chaste kiss to my lips. “Now eat up so we can get to it. I think you might need your energy if I’m reading this situation correctly.”

I try my best to eat as much of the food as I can with my stomach still in knots and my anxiety level through the roof. Gen clears her plate and then looks at me, silently asking if I’m finished. I nod and clear my throat. “Yes, thank you.”

Jared grabs my hand and pulls me off the stool, dragging me toward the living room once again. Last night, this is the same exact place that they propositioned me and invited me into their bed. Now, here we are again, apparently discussing something new.

I wait with bated breath as Gen makes her way into the room, carrying her and my coffee cups, sitting mine on the table in front of me.

“First off,” she begins as she turns to look at me, one leg under her bottom. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Wh-what?” I ask in shock. Was she actually asking if I enjoyed having sex with them?

“Did you have a good time? With us?”

“Duh,” I answer cringing at my snarkiness. “Yes, I enjoyed it and I had an amazing time. And I understand if this was a one-off; something you wanted out of your systems. I get it. And I promise not to speak a word of it to anyone.”

Jared chuckles and Gen throws her head back, laughing. “Oh honey. I don’t care about that. Hell, scream it from the rooftops for all I care. We want to know if you’d like to continue.”

To say I am floored is an understatement. They are actually asking if I want to keep having sex with them? Have I died and gone to Heaven?

“Really?” I gasp. I never in a million years would have ever thought this was what we needed to discuss.

“Yes, really,” Jared tells me from the armchair. “We understand if it is too much. We, uh-” he pauses to rub the back of his neck and chuckle. “-got a little enthusiastic last night. It’s usually not that acrobatic. But yea, we want to know if you want to keep this going.”

I nod as my brows furrow and I look down at my hands, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of Gen’s shirt. How can I answer without sounding too enthusiastic or overly eager?

“Sweetie?” Gen asks, leaning down to look into my eyes. “Are you okay? Is it too much?”

The worry in her voice is what gets me. Is she actually afraid I am going to turn them down? But I have to know something first.

“Can I ask a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why me? I mean, was I just the first girl you came across once you decided to have a threesome?”

Gen and Jared both chuckle. “No baby,” Gen assures me. “This isn’t our first time doing this. We’ve had threesomes before. We, uh- should we tell her Jare?”

“She’ll find out eventually,” he answers his wife. “Go on.”

“We had a relationship with Jared’s co-star Jensen for a few months. It went really well but then we decided to end it, amicably before we all got married. He was dating Danneel but she was living in LA while he was up in Vancouver with us. And well, we fucked. Not Jare and Jen, they just uh, shared me. Although they did get close to kissing once in a competition to see who could get me off first by eating me out simultaneously.” She ends with a laugh and I look over to see Jared blushing.

“Now, that...that cannot and should not be repeated,” he says, clearing his throat. “We just got too close and our tongues touched that’s all.” He explained my unanswered inquiry.

“So, this isn’t your first time having a threesome with another guy?” I ask. “But is it a first with another girl?”

“Yes,” they both answer resolutely. “You are our first female conquest.” Gen finishes before she laces her fingers with mine. “When I saw you yesterday at Y/E/E, I liked you immediately. Even though I could tell you knew who we were you kept it professional and when I asked Jared what he thought about you, I could tell by the way he looked at you he wanted you. We both did. That’s why I left my number. Figured it’d be safer to leave mine than his in case someone else found the note.”

“It’s in my car,” I smiled at her. “I wasn’t about to throw it away.”

“See, you knew. You might have not realized you knew, but you knew me leaving you my number was a big risk.”

“So?” Jared asks as both Gen and I turn to look at him. “Is this something you can see continuing?”

“Absolutely!” I answer confidently and certain. “I will be the third wheel for you guys.”

“Oh honey, in this relationship, we are all equals,” Gen says as she smoothes her hand over my hair. “Now, let’s talk about the rules.”

The 'rules' as I soon discover aren't really rules at all. Mostly we discuss what kind of things are turn-ons and what are turn-offs.

I find out that Gen loves oral, receiving and giving, whether it be male or female. She requests to be called Mama in the bedroom and is unopposed to anal play.

Jared's turn-ons include oral as well, he loves to maintain dominance over his lovers and inquired as to whether I am opposed to that aspect. I tell him an unwaveringly no. I will submit and comply with his control.

When asked what I prefer, I shrug my shoulders. I'd never given it much thought. Sure, I'd had partners before; I wasn't a virgin by any means but to actually sit and think and come up with stuff I liked and didn't like was new to me.

"Okay," Gen says, aware of my discomfort. "Well, we know you like oral, both giving and receiving it. And you like fucking, we are very well aware of that." She continues with a smile. "Are there any positions you're more fond of than others?"

"Uh, I like doggy style," I say, feeling my cheeks heat up. Good god, I've had sex with these people and I'm getting embarrassed!

"Hey now. None of that," Gen coos. "This is a judgment free zone."

I nod, feeling more confident. "I like it when, uh...when you pulled my hair while I was eating you out. And," I turn to look at Jared. "I liked when you spanked her while fucking into her. That was hot, but not like you know, hard or a lot of smacks but...yea."

He smiles at me and nods. "Good to know kitten."

"Anything else?" Gen presses.

"Uh, nothing I can think of right now. No, but permission to revisit this if I do think of something?"

"Of course sweetie."

"One last thing," Jared announces and I turn to look at him. "Move in with us?"

When the kids come in later with their nanny, they stop in their tracks when they see me sitting on the couch with their parents, platonically of course.

The two older ones, Tom and Shep, recognize me and ask their mom why the lady from the restaurant is here while the little girl, Odette, climbs onto Jared's lap and burrows into his chest, peeking out and glancing at me.

"This is our friend. Her name is Y/N and she's going to be staying with us," Gen eases the information to the boys.

The middle child, Shep, is the first one to speak. "Does she like dinosaurs?"

Gen looks at me with joy and laughter in her eyes. I smile and tell Shep, "Dinosaurs are magnificent! My favorite is the pterodactyl. What's yours?"

The discussion between the boys and I quickly turns to which dinosaur would win if they were all in a battle to which dinosaur could survive if they were to come back alive and be in the world as it is today.

Odette finally warms up and makes her way to my side, telling me that Mommy dinosaurs have to wear makeup while Daddy dinosaurs go to work.

I had been terrified of how the kids would accept the fact that I was going to be living with them but I had nothing to worry about.

Kids are resilient though. They can adapt and adjust to just about anything. The three Padalecki kids have no problem knowing there is a new person living in their home but I also know the real talk is going to come after dinner and after Francine leaves for the evening.

Gen and I work together that night, getting the dinner dishes cleaned off and stacked in the dishwasher. Every so often, Gen would glance around and then pull me into a kiss, keeping it mostly innocent and chaste. The only thing not innocent is when her hands would roam and grab a boob or my ass or one time she ran her hand down my crotch, pressing on my clit.

Once the kitchen is cleared, the two of us join Jared and the kids in their playroom where we decide to tell them what is actually going on.

Tom and Shep were sitting on the floor playing with toy cars, making engine noises while Odette sat on her dad's lap, coloring.

"Guys," Gen speaks, getting the boys' attention. "Can you come over here for a moment. Family meeting."

Tom and Shep get up and walk to the table and stand, looking between the three adults in the room.

"Okay, you know how we have taught you all that honesty is always best? And that lying will only get you into more trouble?"

"Yes ma'am," they say in unison.

"Okay. Well your dad and I are going to be honest with you. Y/N is not only our friend, she is our girlfriend. We like her like we like each other; like Unkie Jensen likes Auntie D. And she likes us.

"You will see us-both of us- hug Y/N and kiss her just like we do each other. If you have a bad dream at night and come to our room she is going to be in bed with us. But we will always, always make room for you. You three are our littlest loves and there isn't anything in this world we wouldn't do for you.

"Also, Y/N is the boss as much as your dad and I are so whatever she says goes. If she tells you it's time for bed you don't try to haggle your way out of it. If she tells you you've had enough candy, you listen. She is the adult, you are not. You understand?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Okay. Do you have any questions?"

They shake their heads no and Gen smiles as she reaches out to ruffle Shep's hair and then Tom's.

"You can go play for another hour and then it's time for baths and bed."

The boys go back to their spots and continue their game.

"Well that went better than I was expecting," I say with a laugh.

"Our boys are smart," Jared says with an air of pride.

Odette looks up at him with a scoff, which causes both Gen and I to laugh.

"You're smart too lil O," he tells her before placing a kiss on her temple.

When it's time for baths, Tom asks that I help him so I follow him to his room where he picks out a set of pajamas and underwear. We walk down the hall to the bath and he undresses as I begin filling the tub.

"Y/N?" Tom says as he washes his hair.

"Yea?"

"Do you love us?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, trying to keep my voice even. This was not a question I was expecting from a 7 year old.

"Mommy said that you like them like they like each other. And I know mommy and daddy love each other and they love us just like Unkie Jen loves Auntie D and JJ and Arry and Zeppy. So do you love us too?"

I'm not sure how to answer his inquiry. Do I love him and his siblings? Sure, what's not to love about three of the best behaved kids I have ever encountered.

They took their Mom's news in stride, like it was no big deal that both their parents had a girlfriend, like it was normal.

"Yes, Tom. I love you and Shep and lil O. How could I not? You three are awesome," I laugh trying to break the tension. "Plus we can talk about dinosaurs without people giving us weird looks."

"Do you love Mommy and Daddy too?"

Well, there it is. The one question I was hoping to avoid because I didn't have an answer. I don't know the answer.

Do I love Jared and Genevieve? I know I've lusted after them both for years and the three of us have had the most remarkable, memorable sex of my existence, but love? Wasn't it too soon?

"I think it is time to finish your bath before you turn wrinkly like a raisin," I tell him instead.

It is only a few weeks later that those three words are shared between us.

As we are readying for bed, Gen and I doing a skincare routine in front of the bathroom mirror Jared waltz in and lifts the toilet seat, not caring to relieve himself while we are in the room.

After he finishes and he rights himself, he wiggles between us to wash his hands. We both laugh at his antics and while drying his hands he kisses Gen, telling her he loves her and then turns to kiss me.

"I love you too," he whispers against my lips and my eyes widen at his proclamation.

The whole world stills, the Earth quits spinning and the air stops flowing as he presses his lips to mine again.

"Y/N?" Gen calls to me and everything begins moving again. "Are you okay sweetie?"

"Uh." That's the only thing I can utter. Jared just told me he loves me. He just dropped those three precious words like it was nothing.

"Do you not love me? Us?" Jared asks as he pulls away and looks down at me.

My eyes well up with tears and I can't stop my body shaking if I wanted to.

"Yes," I answer with a laugh. "I love you so much!"

Jared wraps me up in a kiss again, deepening it as he bends me backwards. We pull away with smiles.

"I love you. I love you. I love you," I say repeatedly.

"I love you Y/N," Gen proclaims as she pulls me into a hug before kissing me senseless.

That night we don't fuck. The three of us make love to one another, proclaiming our love and devotion to one another over and over until we each find our climaxes together, as one.

On Friday we decide it is time to visit the Family Business Brewery to stock up on some more beer since the supply at home is getting low.

I'm nervous as hell as today I get to meet Jared and Gen's best friends and former lover. Jensen and Daneel and the kids have been away, up in the north visiting family and now they are back and the plan is to hang out at FBB to let the kids play on their playground.

The Ackles know that Jared and Gen have someone they want them to meet but as I find out on the way there, they have no idea just what I am to the Padalecki's. They just think it's a new friend.

As we pull up, the parking lot is half-full with vehicles and people milling about ready to go inside and sample some the craft beer that is brewed onsite.

I look toward the building and immediately can make out Jensen's silhouette. Probably because of the crowd that has amassed around him. Being one of the main characters on the country's hit sci-fi show and part owner of this place drew a bigger crowd to the brewery than the alcohol did apparently.

I notice that over half of the guests have some type of Supernatural paraphernalia, be it a t-shirt, a purse, or just a photo or something they hoped to get autographed.

The crowd finally disperses and Jensen finally makes his way to us, a smile on his face and a beer glass in his hand.

"Hey guys. Glad you could make it. Dee is inside helping Gino run the bar since we are down a person," he explains and then his eyes narrow in on me. "Hello. I'm Jensen."

"Y/N," I say with a nod.

"Jay, this is our girlfriend." Gen tells him and I watch for his reaction. He is one hell of an actor because other than a quick widening of his green eyes, he fixes his face into one of nonchalance.

"So, you're still…..doing that?" he asks lowly before taking a drink of his beer.

"We hadn't for a while," Jared speaks up. "Since you but yea, we now share a girlfriend."

"Nice," Jensen smiles but I can tell it's not a happy-for-you one; it's more forced, more strained.

Daneel finally comes out to join us and Gen introduces me much the same way she announced me to Jensen.

"Oh wow!" Daneel exclaims. "I, uh, didn't know you two were into that sort of thing."

So apparently she had no idea that a few years ago, Jensen had been in my position. Good to know as now I can be more aware of what to say and what to keep to myself.

The day is nice in the grove where the brewery is located. The heat from the sun is abated by the gentle breeze that flows through the trees.

Jared and Jensen, and sometimes Gen get pulled away a few times by excited fans asking for pictures of just to chat, leaving Daneel and I watching the kids.

I can tell she is dying to ask questions so once there is no one close by, I turn to her and tell her. "You can ask."

"Oh thank god! It's been killing me. How does it work? Do you all sleep together? Have sex together?"

I smile at her questions. And with living with the Padalecki's I have come to also believe the truth is better than lying philosophy.

"We love one another and we work together raising the three most amazing kids I've ever met. Well, until now; the Ackles kids are pretty fantastic." I pause to smile at her. "Yes, we share a bed each night. Sometimes I'm in the middle, sometimes Gen. It just depends on who needs the assurance and safety net the most.

"And yes we have sex together. As with the sleeping arrangement, we take turns on who is between the other two. Sometimes Jared fucks Gen while she eats me out and sometimes I eat her out while being whaled on by the big moose."

Daneel throws her hands up and shakes her head. "Okay. Okay. I'm sorry I asked. That was a visual I did not need. And now it's stuck in my head."

She storms off and I can't help but laugh at her reaction. I mean, she asked after all. I just hope I didn't ruin her friendship with my lovers.

Later that night, when I tell Jared and Gen about it they laugh and assure me that it's nothing Daneel won't get over; that she just probably will never ask me anything ever again.

Over the next few months, I learn just how close the Padalecki's and the Ackles' are as we tend to spend every holiday together and attend each other's kid's birthday parties.

Daneel continues to be cordial to me but doesn't inquire any further into my relationship with Gen and Jared.

That may also be because after paparazzi got a photo of Gen and I at the store holding hands and ran with the story that Gen and Jared were obviously on the splits, the three of us sat down to an interview with People magazine and told the world that the Padalecki's marriage and relationship was still going strong and made it known that they were also in a relationship with me.

After that, the buzz of it all settled down and everything went back to semi-normal. There would be some gossip on the internet about us or we'd received unmarked mail containing threats of damnation but, with the help of my girlfriend and boyfriend, I learned to let it all slide.

People would always have their opinions. I just had to get used to them being different than my own. The world wasn't going to stop turning just because I was in a relationship with a married couple.

A year to the day that Jared and Gen had entered my life when they visited Y/E/E found us all in the kitchen; Jared and Gen sitting at the counter while I cooked us an anniversary dinner.

"Can you believe it's been a year?" Gen says as I pull the roasted chicken from the oven. "One year since we decided to go out to eat and run into the most beautiful human we've ever seen."

"A year since you left your number on a piece of paper before we left and waited patiently for her to call," Jared continues. "One whole year of the most magnificent mind-blowing sex of my life!"

"A year since I thought you leaving your number was a prank or a mistake but texted it anyway. A year of….hell, the best year of my existence, " I tell them as I plate up the chicken, pasta and asparagus before turning and placing their plates in front of them.

"I love you both so much."

"We love you equally," Gen says before we set about eating the dinner I cooked.

The kids were staying over at the Ackles' so we had the house to ourselves.

Jared cleared the kitchen after dinner and dessert while Gen and I went up to the bedroom to get ready in our matching lingerie that we purchased special for the occasion.

"Jared is going to flip when he sees us," Gen says as she comes up behind me in the mirror. "Fuck, are we lucky. Sweetie you are absolutely gorgeous. I can't wait to pull this off of you," she says kisses my shoulder, grazing her teeth across my skin. "With my teeth."

I shudder at the thought and reach back tangling my hand in her hair, kissing her passionately.

"Same goes for you darling," I tell her as we hear Jared coming up the stairs.

Gen and I rush to get on the bed, laying back in nothing but lace and silk waiting for Jared to enter the bedroom.

"Fuck. Me!" he exclaims as he walks in and sees us. "God damn, baby girls, you're going to give this ole man a heart attack," he says, removing his shirt and unbuttoning his jeans.

As we both promised, we put a show on for Jared; disrobing one another with nothing but our teeth and lips.

Gen finally squirts after I bury my face in her sweet cunt, licking all around with my fingers knuckle deep inside her. Her breathing is labored as I pull away, leaving my fingers wiggling inside and turn my head to kiss Jared.

He groans as the tang of her juices mixed with my taste floods his mouth and I begin fingering Gen again, feeling her walls fluttering and quivering around them.

"You like that Mama?" I ask as I pull away from my boyfriend. "You want more? I can recreate our first night."

"Fuck yes!" Gen screams. "Fist me baby."

I curl my fingers down and work my closed fist into her sopping wet pussy easily, twisting my wrist as she writhes above me. I lean down and suck her clit between my lips, flicking the nub with my tongue.

"Shit! I'm going to cum again," she pants and I take my fingers and press against her sweet spot. Her thighs clamp around my head as she climaxes.

Jared walks around behind me and I feel the swath of his tongue lick from my clit to my entrance and up to my ass. It isn't the first time he's ate me like that and it is erotic and obscene and I love it.

When Jared's tip notches at my opening, I wiggle my hips and he slaps his palm down on my asscheek. I moan as I lay my forehead against Gen's leg. Jared spanks me once more before he slams into me, burying his whole length in one thrust.

"Oh fuck! Yes!" I yell out as he begins a pounding pace. His hands gripping my hips tight enough to leave bruises.

Gen finally recuperates enough to join in, kissing me senseless and whispering not-so-sweet nothings in my ear.

"Jared is fucking you real good ain't he? You're taking all that cock. You gonna let him put a baby in you? Yea you are, aren't ya? Get all big and round with a Padalecki growing in you. You want that? You want Jared to cum deep inside and impregnate you?"

"Uh huh," is all I can muster as Jared keeps pounding into me from behind, his balls bouncing up to slap my clit.

"Jared, put a baby in our baby girl. Fill her little pussy up."

"Yes Daddy. Please," I say, finally getting my voice. "Please daddy put your baby in me."

"Oh god. Yea, I can do that. I can definitely do that."

"Mama?" I call out to Gen who lays down to meet my eyes. "Are you sure? This is what you want?"

"Yes baby. I want to watch you grow our baby inside you. I love you sweet girl. And I know you'll be the best mom, you already are to Tom, Shep and O."

She smiles before capturing my lips with hers, wrapping her hand in my hair and tugging, making me whimper and whine.

Jared stills behind me as I feel his dick throbbing and spurting, filling me with his cum and hopefully getting me pregnant. It seems to go on and on before he finally slumps and pulls out of me, only to prod his softened dick back inside and thrusts, making sure the release goes where it needs.

If we made a baby together tonight or not, I know these two beautiful people, my lovers, will be here with me through the celebration or if need be, the act of trying until we succeed.

Six weeks later, I find myself peeing on a stick. I haven't told anyone but my period is about 8 days late and I've always been regular.

I wait for the timer to go off on my phone, staring at the test laying facedown on the sink. Am I pregnant? Am I just late? But then if that's the case, why am I late?

The device dings and I hesitantly reach for the test, turning it over to find out the result.

As I walk down the stairs, I hear my family in the front room laughing and just being goofy, none of them aware of what I hold in my hand. The small thin piece of plastic that is going to change everything.

I stand at the doorway and just watch the five of them. I love them all so much and am grateful that they are now a part of my life. The kids accepted me and made me feel welcomed and loved from the very beginning and now they sometimes call me Mommy Y/N. It warms my soul when they utter those words.

Jared and Genevieve. I never thought I could find a love like I have with them. It is an all-consuming love. They are so kind, caring and generous. The three of us are in love and we are about to bring another life into the mix.

“Hey guys,” I call out getting their attention. Shep runs and wraps his arms around my waist and lays his head on my stomach, like he knows his new little brother or sister is growing inside me. But that can’t be, I haven’t said a word to anyone much less the kids.

I ruffle his hair and he looks up at me with a smile. “Why don’t you go sit on the sofa with your parents?” I request. “I have something to tell you all.”

“We’re having a baby,” I announce, not wanting to drag this out. I am happy, ecstatic even and I am hoping, ok I’m pretty sure this news will be accepted with joy.

“What?” Gen exclaims, a smile blossoming on her face. “Really?”

“Yea,” I answer as I hold up the pregnancy test with the two bold blue lines. “I’m pregnant.”

Gen gently lifts O off her lap and jumps up, rushing to hug me and pulling me into a kiss. We’ve never hidden our relationship from the kids so to see their Mom and I kissing is no big deal to them.

When she pulls away, Gen looks at me with tears in her eyes. "We're having a baby?"

"Yea we are," I tell her, my own tears making themselves known.

Suddenly Jared is pulling us both into his chest, his long strong arms holding us close.

"Where's the baby?" O asks as she looks around and in the floor. "I wann' see it."

We laugh as we break apart, going to join them on the sofa.

I pull O onto my lap while Gen holds Shep and Tom is propped on his Dad's knee.

"The baby isn't born yet," I explain to my daughter. "He or she has to get big enough before it can come live with us. Right now, it's just a tiny little bean."

"I wann' see it," she repeats and I chuckle as I maneuver her around to straddle my thighs. I lift my shirt, exposing my stomach and take her hand to place under my belly button. "The baby is in here, nice and warm and growing.”

Lil O’s eyebrows fuse together as she stares at the place her hand is and then she says, “Can I play with her when she gets here?”

I laugh and hear Gen and Jared chuckle.

“Of course you can sweetie,” I tell her. “But maybe not when she first gets here, she’ll be itty bitty.”

“She?” Jared says and I look at him. He practically has stars in his eyes with glee.

“Well O called it a she so I just ran with it. Who knows, it could be a boy,” I say with a shrug.

“I want a tyrannasaurus,” Shep declares.

“Geez buddy,” I laugh as I look down at him. “You want me to explode? The baby is in my belly and you want it to be a dinosaur?”

“No, I wasn’t thinking about that,” Shep says, his voice remorseful.

“Hey Sheppy? It’s okay. I was just joking with you.”

“Okay,” he says as he reaches over and puts his hand on my stomach beside his sister’s.

Before I know it I have three little palms against my skin, along with a slightly bigger one and a huge one over top of all of them; my family silently welcoming and loving on the new addition.

By the time Tom’s birthday comes around, I am huge! Gen had warned me that Padalecki’s were big babies but this is outrageous. I can't see my feet at all and need help to get out of bed every morning. This little one is making my life miserable but I know in the end, it will all be worth it.

We had decided against finding out the gender, mainly because I was still leery about how correct those results could be. So the five of us have begun referring to the bump as Baby P. And right now Baby P was kicking my kidneys and punching my liver.

I still have almost a month before my due date of April 11 and it seems as if time is slowing down. Every day is a hurdle to get through, with being 8 months pregnant and still trying to help out around the house and do my chores, though both Gen and Jared have fussed at me for doing too much. But I’m pregnant, not disabled.

We’ve planned a barbeque party for Tom’s birthday and invited most of his friends from school, plus the Ackles and the Morgan’s and a few others from Jared’s time on the show. Both sets of grandparents are going to be here also, so it would definitely be a full house.

I am upstairs in the bedroom, trying to slide my sandals on but having trouble since I can’t see anything. Jared walks in while I huff and try again, only to push the shoe farther away.

“Hey baby,” he says gently. “Let me help you.”

“This is ridiculous,” I whine as he lifts my leg and slides the leather onto my foot. “I can’t do anything but waddle around, running into things and just getting in the way. I’m an annoyance to everyone. Maybe I should just stay up here.”

“You hush that right now,” he admonishes me, standing up to tower over me. “You do not annoy anyone. You do not get in the way at all. You are pregnant, carrying my baby. You’re beautiful, baby girl. I love watching you, knowing that’s my child inside you; a life we created out of our love.” He tugs a stray hair behind my ear and tilts my chin up. “I love you. Gen loves you. Tom, Shep and O love you. We all love you and we love this baby. So get over yourself and get that cute little ass downstairs to celebrate our son’s birthday.”

“Cute and little is not how I would refer to my ass,” I retort with a smile. “I look like a Kardashian.”

“Mmhmm,” Jared mumbles as he leans down to kiss me. “More to spank.”

I chuckle as I tiptoe to kiss him and then turn to head downstairs to join my family and greet our guests.

The party is in full swing as most of the adults sit in lounge chairs, talking and catching up while Jared and Jensen man the grill and the ladies are in the kitchen gathering up the condiments and sides.

I have been commanded to stay in my seat and ask for anything I need. Jared went as far as to tell me if he saw me on my feet, he would spank me in front of everyone. And as much as I love him spanking me, that was something that no one else needed to see so I kept my promise, only asking that he give me a bottle of water for my stay.

Everyone seems to be having a good time; the kids are enjoying the gigantic bounce house that we rented and sat up in the backyard, the adults congregate on the patio talking and laughing and waiting for food.

I look around with a blissful heart at the family and friends I have acquired since becoming Jared and Gen’s lover. No one seems to bat an eye anymore about our relationship and took it at face value and that made me very happy. Sure, there were a few things still being said on the internet but those people don’t matter to me. What matters to me is the ones here today, celebrating our son’s birthday.

A pain shoots through my body but as soon as it appears, it disappears so I think nothing of it and go back to watching Tom, Shep, JJ, and a few of their friends from school run around the yard playing tag. It’s a good day.

That good day turns when later that evening while the ones of us that are still lounging around, mostly family, my water breaks. Gerald and Sherri, Jared’s parents, stay at the house with the kids as Gen, Jared and I rush to the hospital.

In the early morning hours of March 18, we welcome Delaney Grace Padalecki, a whopping 9 pound 12 ounce baby girl.

I thought I knew what love was, what love is but until I looked into my daughter’s eyes, I had had no idea.

Love is infinite. Love is encompassing. Love is the glue that cements us all together. And I have found that with Gen and Jared and their-our-kids and now with Delaney. There is no way my life could be any richer. A once in a lifetime encounter gave me love and a family.

THE END

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @spnbaby-67 @tftumblin @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam @death-unbecomes-you @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @deanwanddamons @supraveng @deandreamernp

#jared padalecki #Genevieve Padalecki #reader insert #Padalecki kids adorableness #Once In A Lifetime #a story from a dream #smut #fluff #smidge of angst #pregnancy #so much smut #S.M.U.T.#i'm not even sorry #down a rabbit hole #NOT SPN

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dreams-of-kalopsia · 4 years

Text

Fictober Prompt 17

“There is just something about them.”

Voltron fanfiction (Plance)

No warnings apply.

Read it on AO3.

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Happy April Fool’s Day! There’s no joke, though. I’m just a real fool for this show and this pairing. XD

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Part 1 (Pidge): Timing

Part 2 (Lance): Intuition

Part 3 (Colleen): Grounded

Part 4 (Hunk): Change

Part 5: Them

(Nadia)

The rumors are true: Commander Holt’s daughter is a genius.

She can beat any Earth videogame. Can store galaxies’ worth of tech info in her brain. Can hack into anything that runs on codes. Can master anything remotely mathematical or scientific. Can head and complete the repairs of all MFE units, come up with upgrades, and finish installing them in a month. Can pilot an interdimensional, sentient, robotic Lion. Can fight and beat almost anyone bigger than her—which, with her height, is a lot of people.

But she can’t fire a gun to save her life.

Nadia gapes at said genius. “What.”

“You heard me.”

“That’s quite hard to believe,” James chimes in. “You’ve been fighting in a war for years.”

Pidge shrugs as she taps on her tablet to run a systems check on Ryan’s unit. “I have my brain, my bayard, and Green. They’ve kept me alive so far.”

“I’ve seen your bayard. It’s just a short blade with a grapple and static discharge.”

“Works just fine for me. For the most part.”

“But long-range weapons give offensive power while providing distance and cover,” Ryan argues, to the team’s agreement.

“Short-range weapons and grapples require contact. Larger enemies will overpower you,” Ina says. “Pistol-sized blasters would work best for you; you should try it.”

An idea sparks to life in Nadia’s brain. She looks at Ina. Then at Pidge. Then at the others. Then she grins. “Let’s do it. With us as your teachers, you’ll be wielding a gun in under a week.”

Pidge sends back a challenging smirk. “Oh yeah?”

She plants her hands on her hips. “Wanna bet?”

* * *

Nadia, of course, wins. Because as she said, Commander Holt’s daughter, Katie Holt, is a genius.

Five days of putting up with James and Ryan’s great demos but useless explanations, absorbing Ina’s breakdown of the principles of aiming and shooting, and following Nadia’s strict instructions on posture and aim, and Pidge is at the Garrison’s shooting range, blasting target after target at the final stage of her expert-level shooting course.

Watching from a safe distance behind Pidge, Nadia puffs out her chest. She turns to her team. “What did I tell you guys?”

“She’ll be wielding a gun in under a week,” Ina supplies.

“She’s a genius,” Ryan answers next.

James releases a long sigh before replying, “This will be fun.”

Nadia nods smugly to each response. “And I was right.” She directs her attention back to Pidge, who’s just about to finish the stage.

“Really makes me wonder why she never learned,” James comments after a while. “Two of her teammates use long-range weapons.”

“Ask one of them yourself.”

At Ryan’s words, they all turn towards the entrance. Lance has just entered and is approaching them with a friendly smile.

Nadia hasn’t hung out with him as much as she has with Pidge or Hunk, but she’s heard a lot about him. Seems like a nice, fun guy. And since those two like him so much, then by transitivity, she likes him, too.

She smiles when he reaches them. “Lance! What’s up?”

“Hey, guys,” he greets. “Have any of you seen Pidge? Shiro sent me to get her.”

“Pidge? Oh, you mean…” She jerks a thumb behind her and raises her voice. “…the badass over there firing a gun like a pro?”

Pidge curses. Nadia turns just in time to see her miss a quickly moving target. “Nadia! Don’t distract me!” she shouts as she fixes her aim.

Nadia laughs, stepping a bit to the left to give Lance a better view. He looks dazed watching Pidge hit every target with ease. Even if her back is towards them, her confidence is obvious in her relaxed posture and steady aim.

Nadia wasn’t lying when she said Pidge is a pro. She can’t help puffing out her chest again. She’s so proud of her team’s work and her friend’s newly acquired skill.

“She can…” Lance starts but doesn’t finish. More like forgets to finish. He’s so enthralled by the sight before him, he probably hasn’t realized he spoke up.

“Yep,” she answers anyway, to which Ina adds, “Four point two enemies per minute. Eighty-two percent accuracy. Sixty-eight percent headshots, twenty-four percent torso, six percent arms, two percent legs.”

“Yeah. What Ina said.”

“She learned from us in five days,” James says, his arms crossed. “And only during our free time. I’m sure she would have learned faster from you Paladins.” His tone is casual, but his words have a critical undertone to them.

Nadia quirks a brow and trades a glance with Ina and Ryan.

Is he… throwing shade at Lance?

Lance seems to think so, too, because he tears his eyes from Pidge to shoot James a look that’s borderline hostile. But before he can speak, James shrugs cockily at him and walks over to Pidge, leaving silence in his wake.

What is up with him?

And please, Ina, do not comment on it.

A few feet before them, James proceeds to give Pidge pointers now that she’s done with her course.

And the silence turns awkward.

It starts to weigh on Nadia, so she initiates a conversation with Lance. “So, Lance. You said Shiro needs Pidge?”

“Yeah. He needs help decoding an encrypted message or some…thing…” he trails off, his brows furrowing and eyes narrowing in a glare.

She follows the direction of his gaze, finding Pidge at the end. James is standing close beside her with one hand on her shoulder and another on her wrist as he corrects her posture, and she’s nodding attentively to whatever he’s saying.

Nadia narrows her eyes when they return to Lance. She can tell that something’s happening, but she can’t pinpoint what.

“He’s at the bridge with Sam and Officer Curtis,” he continues as if he hasn’t suddenly stopped talking for two whole minutes. He gives them a stiff smile. “Please tell her that after she’s done.” And then he turns to leave.

At the exact moment Pidge turns towards him. Her excited grin instantly falls into a disappointed frown when she finds him walking out the door.

Oh my gosh. Did I really just see that?

It’s such a dramatic moment that Nadia nearly shivers from the thrill.

“That was awkward,” Ina belatedly states.

Nadia gives her a wry smile. “I’m surprised you’re only pointing it out now.”

“It wasn’t a favorable option a while ago.”

“What did Lance want?” Pidge asks, walking towards them, her eyes still trained on the door.

“To deliver a message,” Ryan answers unhelpfully.

Seriously? Nadia side-eyes him before explaining, “You’re needed at the bridge.”

“Oh,” she says despondently. “I’m guessing Shiro, Dad, and Officer Curtis need me?”

“Yep.”

Pidge sighs. “Gotta go, then.” She gives them a thankful smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you guys so much for teaching me. I can’t believe you really did it in less than a week.”

“No need to thank us,” James says, smiling back. “It was a necessary skill.”

“You’re welcome anyway,” Nadia replies with a grin.

“Maybe you can turn your weapon into a gun next time,” Ryan adds.

“You seem sad.”

All heads snap towards Ina in varying degrees of horrified, and she doesn’t even notice.

“O-Oh, um…” Pidge stutters, “I’m just uh… sad. That I… have to leave now.”

“You can continue practicing tomorrow. Everyone’s free times overlap for two hours in the afternoon.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” With a short wave, she takes her leave.

Nadia stares intently at Pidge’s retreating back.

Yes, Katie Holt is a genius. Yes, she can do a lot of cool things, including mastering her shooting skills in five days.

But she can’t hide her emotions to save her life.

It goes without saying that no one—not even Ina—is buying her lie. So why do it? She’s obviously upset because of Lance. But why? Speaking of Lance, why was he glaring earlier? Was he glaring at James? At Pidge?

“Rizavi.” James’ voice pulls her away from her thoughts. “You’re plotting something.”

“Not yet,” Nadia replies. “But didn’t you see how those two acted? There’s just something about them.” She looks at each of her teammates. “I’m going to find out what.”

____

(James)

People, in general, are easy to read.

From their expressions, words, actions… there’s always some information about the person to be gleaned.

James supposes that’s what makes him work well as a leader. He can understand the motive behind Ryan’s actions, follow the logic in Ina’s words, tell that Nadia is plotting something when her eyes start to glint. After years together as a team, he can accurately anticipate the actions they’ll take on certain scenarios.

And right now, he knows exactly what Nadia is doing.

“Welcome to the training hall,” she tells Pidge and Lance with a sweeping flourish of her hands. “Time for holographic campaign simulations, Pidge.”

“What am I doing here again?” Lance asks then immediately backtracks, “Not to say I’m not okay with it or anything.”

“We’re short one person. Campaigns require working in pairs.” She sends James a pointed look. “Right?”

Wrong, but for the sake of her plot, he answers a “Yeah.”

She grins and nods, taking out three white strings of different lengths from her pocket. She aligns the ends and covers the middle parts with her palms. “Okay, now pick one end and tug on it.”

Ina and Ryan glance at him, their question clear: ‘Are you really letting her do this?’

James replies with an amused smile and a shrug. ‘Why not?’ He pinches one end and pulls. If he’s seen through Nadia’s plan correctly, the one who tugs on the other end should be…

Pidge smiles up at him. “Looks like we’re a team.”

He suppresses a smirk. “Looking forward to it.”

His spine suddenly tingles with the sensation of being watched, and he catches the tail-end of Lance’s glare before he turns away to prepare with Nadia. The smug amusement gets the better of James. He allows himself to smirk.

Being able to read people isn’t limited to his team, of course. How else will he predict Hunk and Keith’s infiltration plan if not for the knowledge that Hunk is terrified for his family and Keith is the reckless, ride-or-die type of guy who would go with his friend? How else will he find out that Curtis has a crush on Captain Shirogane if he hasn’t noticed Curtis’ lingering looks on the Captain? How else will he realize that Pidge has feelings for Lance if he hasn’t seen her face glow when he tells her that Lance is watching her and then fall when she finds him leaving, his back turned towards her? How else will he know that Lance likes her back if not for Lance’s obviously jealous glares at him?

How else will he establish that they don’t know their feelings are mutual if not for the stolen, pining glances every so often?

Nadia chooses a campaign that James holds the best record for. No doubt she intends to gauge Lance’s reaction when they lose to James and Pidge. She’s on the right track; Lance’s jealousy will be aggravated if he thinks that James and Pidge’s teamwork is the sole reason for their sure win, and his feelings will become more apparent.

James prepares his blaster, showily helps Pidge prepare hers, then leads her to their starting point.

“We’re ready, Rizavi, Lance.”

He hopes Nadia catches on soon. Maybe then she’ll be more perceptive of the subtler cues around her. Like his advances that she always unintentionally deflects without even knowing.

____

(Ryan)

Ryan is an observer of life, a spectator of the world through and through. If he were to compare himself to something, he’d be a sponge that absorbs everything and gives nothing away unless pressed.

But after bearing witness to the same unchanging event so many times, he’s just about ready to talk. After all, even sponges can only absorb so much before the excess spills out.

“Nooo, I’m too late!”

His eyes dart towards the newcomer.

Hunk has stopped by the training hall, hands holding a tray with two glasses of probably milkshake, gaze fixed on the competing pairs in the middle of a campaign simulation, James and Nadia versus Pidge and Lance. “I wanted them to taste-test…” He casts his eyes down in a slight pout. After a few moments, he looks at Ryan and Ina with hopeful eyes. “Hey, maybe you guys can do it? Tell me what you think. And be honest; I promise not to get offended.” He raises the tray towards them.

They take it without question.

“Thanks.”

“Thank you.”

It’s no secret that Hunk is a genius chef who loves cooking and knows his yeast, much like Ryan. Ryan can never doubt anyone who knows their yeast.

True enough, the milkshake tastes divine, and he says so, Ina’s agreement following close.

Hunk chuckles pleasantly. “That’s great. I was experimenting with the proportion of the ingredients to accommodate this alien vanilla that adds a distinct tang.”

The buzzer goes off to mark the end of the campaign. The three of them redirect their attention to the simulation zone. Nadia, James, Lance, and Pidge huddle together before the performance analyzer, waiting for the results.

Despite not seeing the results the moment they appear, it’s easy for Ryan to see who won.

Rather, it’s easy to hear who won.

“Yeah!!” Pidge and Lance cry out, pumping their fists in victory.

“We did it, Pidge!” Lance says. Beaming, Pidge turns to him and raises her arms for what seems to be a hug. He drops his gun and holds out his hands towards her waist. Then they both freeze mid-action and abruptly turn away from each other, Lance scratching the back of his neck before picking up his gun.

Irk bubbles in Ryan’s chest. He’s honestly tired of watching them do this every single time they win.

“They’re so… awkward with each other,” he comments as he returns his glass.

“Ugh. Tell me about it,” Hunk whines. “Imagine seeing them, like, every day.”

Ryan releases a fed-up, sympathetic grunt.

God forbid.

____

(Ina)

Ina’s brain isn’t wired to read social cues.

What it is wired for are observation and analysis, and she depends on her rapid processing skills to assess the situation, approximate the meaning of the social cues from previous experience, and act accordingly. Her approximations don’t always reach the acceptable level of correctness, which leads to inappropriate responses, but her team has helped her greatly with that. By observing Ryan’s body language, watching Nadia’s ever-changing expressions, and listening to James’ simplified explanations, Ina’s approximations and understanding of human behavior have increased in accuracy by sixty-seven percent.

She’s always thought that her current level of comprehension is sufficient to keep up with most situations.

Lance’s and Pidge’s recent changes in behavior, however, are making her think otherwise.

They behave as they normally do outside each other’s presence. They work in perfect sync when working together as Paladins or partners during campaign simulations. But once their tasks are done, they oscillate between acting like best friends and barely being able to make eye contact. The behavioral changes have no apparent trend or pattern that she can follow in order to act properly or say anything other than “The atmosphere is very tense and awkward.” when they behave aberrantly.

Ina has never encountered their confusing behavior before; it mildly frustrates her that she doesn’t have enough information for a proper analysis.

“What are you guys?” she finally blurts out one day as the three of them watch James and Hunk compete against Nadia and Ryan on the simulator.

Pidge and Lance share a look that she’s learned indicates uncertainty.

“We’re…” Lance begins to say.

“We’re uh…” Pidge begins at the same time.

“Friends?” “Humans?”

They look at each other again, this time with mirroring frowns.

He puts both hands on his hips. “Really, Pidge? Humans?”

Pidge crosses her arms and glares up at him. “Ina asked what we are! Obviously, we’re humans!”

“Of course we’re humans! She’s obviously asking how we’re related to each other!”

It occurs to Ina that they’ve left her out of the conversation, as if they’ve forgotten that she’s there with them. She takes the opportunity to study their interaction to derive her own conclusion.

“But we’re not related to each other! You’re from Cuba and I’m part-Italian!”

“Argh! Not that kind of related!”

“Can you please be a bit more specific?!”

“She’s asking what our relationship is!”

Ina, who’s been quietly following their quick back-and-forth with her eyes, almost gets a whiplash when Pidge doesn’t retort. Upon further observation, she’s gone completely still as well.

“We don’t have a relationship, Lance.” Pidge’s voice is devoid of the heat and energy of her previous counterarguments.

Ina notices Lance’s foot twitch—to step towards Pidge, she deduces—but it ends up staying in place. “We’re friends… right?” he returns, tone quiet and somewhat… pleading?

She tilts her head in confusion.

Pidge bows her head, her bangs and glasses obscuring her face. “Friends. Right.” With her head hung low, she misses the way Lance momentarily winces at her words.

For what reason, Ina can’t figure out.

After a deep inspiration, Pidge turns to her, smiling but also not really smiling. “Either way, does that answer your question, Ina?”

Ina’s eyes dart from Pidge to Lance back to Pidge again as her mind reaches a conclusion.

“Yeah. Partly.”

These two are complicated.

____

(Curtis)

“Pidge!” Cadet—no, Paladin Lance bellows as he barges into the Green Lion’s hangar. The door hisses angrily closed behind him—if that’s even possible.

Curtis knows why he’s here. Intel of Paladin Pidge’s secret mission has been leaked to him somehow. This only proves that the IGF-Atlas crew isn’t as tight as Captain Shirogane and Commander Holt are hoping, and all the more the necessity for all the moles to be baited and weeded out before launching.

Seeing the shocked, panicked expression on Paladin Pidge’s face, Curtis decides to intercept Paladin Lance’s approach.

“Paladin Pidge is busy,” he explains, not budging when the Blue Paladin tries to push past him.

“Isn’t she always? Aren’t we all?” Paladin Lance all but growls. “Maybe since she’s spending too much time on secret missions behind everyone’s backs, she’d make a little time to explain why she’s doing everything without her Team.” Not once does his glare leave Paladin Pidge, who stands frozen behind Curtis.

Curtis tries to reason again: “You have to understand—”

“I won’t understand without a proper explanation.”

“Now is not—” A small hand rests on his arm to stop him. He looks back at Paladin Pidge in surprise.

“It’s fine, Officer. Can you give us a dobosh—I mean, a minute?” She gives him a slight smile that disappears as her gaze shifts to the Paladin he’s still restraining.

“Are you sure?” he asks, regarding her with concern. “You only have a ten-minute allowance, and you should have taken off three minutes a—”

“I’m still at a safe margin,” she assures. “I promise I won’t take long.”

Curtis glances at the still-enraged Paladin Lance. He doubts that very much. Nonetheless, he sighs and capitulates, resolving to call the Captain should an argument arise and interfere with the mission. “Okay,” he says, retreating to a distance that somewhat allows privacy but also alerts him of any brewing conflict.

It’s not that he questions the two’s friendship; it’s just that the air around them is so charged that he’s not sure he can intervene at any point anymore. The tension has only increased after he’s given them some room to talk.

Maybe it’s better to summon the Captain now.

Curtis murmurs into his communicator, “Captain, there’s potential trouble in the Green Lion’s hangar.”

A reply crackles softly from the headpiece. “On my way.”

“I don’t have time to explain anything other than I’m on a secret mission,” Paladin Pidge says, drawing his attention back to the pair. “The fact that you know about it means I’m not done with it yet.”

“What’s the mission?”

“Classified. It’s called secret for a reason, Lance.”

“Where are you going?”

“Classified.”

“Who’s your support?”

“Green.”

“Green?! Pidge, have you been going off alone?!”

“Yeah. So?” she answers defiantly, but her hand moves to grip her forearm in a defensive gesture as Paladin Lance’s anger mounts.

“What do you mean ‘so’?! Why is no one backing you up?!”

The quiet hiss of the hangar doors heralds the Captain’s arrival. In seconds, Captain Shirogane has reached his side and is watching the argument with worried eyes. “How many minutes until Pidge’s time is up?”

He checks his timer. “Seven.”

Captain Shirogane sighs. “Let’s give them five. I have a feeling they need this talk.”

Curtis knits his brows and looks at his Captain. “Not to be insubordinate, sir, but are you sure?”

“No. But let’s hope I’m right.”

“…the more people who know, the more the mission is compromised. Besides, Green and I specialize at stealth—”

“You didn’t think to ask anyone on the Team—”

“Everyone’s busy or can’t keep a secret. Look, I don’t have time—”

“You could’ve asked me for support, Pidge! I’m not as busy and I can—”

“Can what? I can read your thoughts on your face and body language, Lance! You can’t keep something top secret for so long without arousing suspicion! Why are you here, anyway?! If there’s anyone who needs your support, it’s Allura, so go support her instead of wasting my time!!” Paladin Pidge erupts, her words reverberating harshly around the hangar.

Heavy silence falls soon after.

Curtis catches the flash of hurt on Paladin Lance’s face before he turns his head away, the tension in his body evident through the clenched fists at his sides. Curtis barely hears the next words, subdued as they are: “Don’t tell me what to do, Pidge.”

“I won’t if you won’t.”

Paladin Pidge spins on her heel then and walks briskly towards her Lion. “I’m ready to go, Officer. Hey, Shiro,” she manages to murmur as she passes them.

Behind her, Paladin Lance has yet to lift his head or move.

Curtis looks worriedly at his Captain, unsure if this is the outcome they were supposed to hope for. Troubled eyes meet his.

The launch sequence begins its countdown.

When it reaches zero, Curtis realizes that he may have just witnessed the end of a friendship.

#fictober19 #writings #it's april #i know #i'm sorry #TTnTT #voltron #plance

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angelic-holland · 5 years

Text

Princess Party // pp x stark!reader

Word Count: 9.8k

Summary: Your dad is throwing a party and you want to invite the cute boy with the red and blue suit.

A/N: just adorably awkward teenage crushes, set between Captain America Civil War and Spiderman: Homecoming; reader is Tony’s daughter; bold is text messages

Your dad was throwing a party, for what? You honestly had no idea. All you knew was that it was a costume party, and that he invited some of the Avengers to the compound, which prompted you to beg him to invite Peter. Very few people in the world knew of Spider-Man’s real identity, but when Tony was creating the specs for his suit, he had you help him. He didn’t need your help, he was a fucking genius after all but he wanted you to ‘learn the trade’ because ‘you never know bubs, the world might need a new iron man’. You would roll your eyes because your dad, Tony Stark, was practically invincible, nothing would happen to him.

When you helped make Spider-Man’s suit you saw that it was labeled “Peter Parker” in Tony’s system and you felt excited, because you knew someone, a kid, someone your age that was out saving the world with your dad. It didn’t make you jealous, because you never were the type of person to want to save the world, at least not in the same way that your dad did.

But you wanted to get to know the boy who went and fought Captain America, the boy with powers similar to that of a spider. When your dad was going on and on about how smart Peter was, how he made his own webbing, your heart couldn’t help but beat a little faster, wondering what the boy looked like.

“Dad, can you invite Peter?”

“Hmm?” He asks, eyebrow raised as he continues his work, half listening while you sit at another table in his lab, working on your calculus homework.

“Peter Parker? Spiderman? To the party?”

Now why’d you want me to do that? You don’t even know who he is.”

For someone as smart as your dad, he could be a little oblivious, which right now was a hindrance to your plans.

“I know, but it would be nice to have another kid here, you know? I rarely get to hang out with kids my own age.”

“You’re way too smart to hang out with kids your own ag- wait a minute.”

“Yeah?” You ask, perking up and looking away from your homework to meet your dad’s wide eyes.

“Peter’s smart enough, not as smart as you, but he’d be able to hold a conversation with you. Jarvis? Go ahead and send an invite to Peter Parker.”

“Thank you!” You squeal, trying not to be too excited.

You spent the rest of the week trying to figure out a costume, you all but gave up when you were out shopping with Pepper, eyes falling on a Belle costume in a Target.

“This?” She asks, hands running over the cheap material.

“The parties tomorrow and I’ve got nothing chosen,” you sigh, looking through the sizes.

“Are you trying to impress Peter?” She asks, eyes knowing, the woman you considered your mom, who was every bit of a mom to you in every sense of the word, knew everything about you. She knew that you secretly wanted to go to school with kids your age and hang out with kids your age. She knew you wanted to have normal conversations that didn’t revolve around technology and science. She also knew Tony, and that he showed how much he loved you through letting you into his lab, letting you help design stuff.

“He just, sounds like a cool guy, and I mean, even if I’m not attracted to him in that sense, maybe he could be a friend?” Your voice wavers with worry, scared Pepper would try to steer you clear of the idea.

“I understand that, just tread lightly, you know what Tony would say, you’re 15.”

“I know, I know.”

***

You’re in your room, hands shaking nervously as you finish curling your hair. Your makeup was done, dress on, ready for the first guests to show up. What you weren’t looking forward to was all the guests you’d have to mingle with and talk to.

Knock knock knock.

“Hey kid, can I come in?” You hear Tony ask and you sit up in your chair.

“Come in!”

He sits down on your bed, hand patting the spot next to him.

You sit next to him, your yellow dress taking up most of the space.

“Pepper told me about Peter and-,”

“Dad!” You whine, tossing your hands up in the air.

“Just, take it easy, don’t be too weird, I mean I’m sure he’s a weird kid too, but don’t try to use him as a science experiment or anything.”

“What?”

“Don’t put him on a table in a lab and run experiments on his blood.”

“I wouldn’t-,”

“You were definitely considering it. Come on, you’re my kid, of course you’ve thought about it.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you laugh.

Sir, the first guest has arrived.

“Jarvis, please tell me who decided it was okay to be an entire hour early.”

Peter Parker sir.

“Go on kid, I’ve gotta get into costume,” Tony says, lightly nudging your shoulder.

“Me? Does he even know who I am?!” You shriek, standing up and looking into your mirror.

“I’ve said I’ve got a daughter-,”

“That doesn’t-, dad.”

“Go on, and if he’s wearing a Star Wars costume make sure to make fun of him enough for the both of us.”

You laugh and make your way out of your room through the large complex you called your home to the front door.

You couldn’t help but start laughing as you saw the boy, standing outside, in none other than a Star Wars costume. He was cute though, brown hair a mess on his head, brown eyes that widened as you got closer.

“Hi,” you say as you unlock and open the door.

“Hi, are you, you’re Belle,” Peter squeaks out as he follows you down the hallway.

“Well I go by Y/N but you can call me Belle if you want,” and you’re glad that you’re not facing him because your face is definitely bright red right now.

“Wait, you’re, you’re Mr. Stark’s daughter?” His voice is a little higher pitched and he talks so fast you don’t think you’ll catch everything.

“Uh yes, the one and only,” you laugh, stopping in the kitchen and turning to him.

“I thought, I mean I just thought you’d be, like 5 or something, I mean you’re Ms. Potts daughter?”

“Biologically, nope, but she’s my mom, yeah.”

“Oh, cool, cool, cool,-,”

His eyes are moving all over the place, head tilted slightly as he looks at everything, everything but you.

“It’s uh, just a kitchen,” you cut of his cools, because if you don’t you think he’ll drone on and on.

“Sorry, yeah, it is,” he says, looking back at you.

“You’re super early you know.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, if that’s, if that isn’t okay, I was just scared of being late, actually, so I sort of left really early and now I guess that was a little dumb, since it’s a party but-,”

“Peter, hey, it’s fine, I was joking,” you laugh, you were probably just as nervous as he was, but you did a better job at hiding it between quick jokes, ones that he didn’t seem to be picking up on.

“Oh, yeah, joking, haha,” he laughs weakly, fingers tapping along his leg.

“You know, on the invite it said no cheesy pop culture costumes, I think yours is a little out of dress code.”

His eyes widen and he looks down at the brown robe and white shirt and pants he’s wearing, stammering before you throw him a line.

“I’m kidding, again. Sorry if that wasn’t obvious.”

“Oh I mean it was, I just am a little nervous is all.”

“Why would you be nervous?” You ask sitting on a chair next to the granite countertops.

“I fought in Germany with your dad, with Mr. Stark and uh I guess I’m just waiting for the next bad thing to happen, so I can help. I mean I’m not wishing for a bad thing to happen, obviously. So when I got the letter in the mail from Mr. Stark I thought it was a little old fashioned, sure but I thought it would be for some sort of covert mission. I just, sorry you probably don’t wanna hear it from me.”

“It’s okay, I mean, it’s not like you’ve got anyone else to talk to, so let’s hear it.”

“Ok,” Peter sighs, sitting next to you at the counter, his elbows resting on the counter, head resting in his hands.

“So you obviously don’t want something bad to happen, which is good, that means you’re a good kid.”

“Yeah I mean I know that but I guess, I guess that I just feel on edge, all the time, you know? I can't really have fun because I’m scared I won’t be ready when the next big bad comes around.”

“You know, take one outta my dad’s book, you should enjoy the here and now, you know? Be content in what’s happening now and the next time a big villain comes along, that’s your focus point. It’s easier said than done, I know he struggled a lot when he first started doing all this superhero stuff.”

“Whatcha talking about?” Your dad scared the shit out of both of you, sneaking up from behind in one of his Marks.

“Is that really your costume dad? Pretty lame,” you roll your eyes, of course he wouldn’t actually dress up for his own costume party.

“Not as lame as Parker’s,” Tony says back and Peter sulks.

“He knows I’m kidding right? Pete, gotta learn how to take a joke if you’re going to be spending time here.”

‘What, I mean, why would I-,”

“No reason, one foot!” Tony shouts as he leaves, leaving both you and Peter a little confused.

“What was that all about?” Peter asks and you shrug.

“Tony’s a little weird.”

“Why do you call your dad by his first name?”

“The apple doesn’t fall from the tree,” you say, standing up.

“What’re you doing?”

“Guests will be here soon, I’ll needa mingle,” you sigh, picking at one of the pieces of your dress that was already fraying.

“You don’t sound too excited about that.”

“Well, it’s just one night, then back to radio silence.”

“Huh? Where do you go to school?”

“Here.”

“You don’t go to like a real school? Awesome!”

“No, not really awesome,” you sigh as you lead Peter to the huge open space that is normally meant for training but was now full of decorations and had tables full of food and drinks as people started wandering in.

“Why’s that?”

“I’ll, we can talk later okay? I should-,” you’re cut off by one of Tony’s friends, another billionaire in the tech industry and his wife greet you.

“Y/N! Looking as beautiful as ever, you’re getting so old, I remember when you were running around as a toddler,” the woman laughs and you force a smile and play along, you can’t for the life of you remember their names.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Peter and he looks a little disappointed but walks away, leaving you to mingle.

After what seems like hours of talking to different people, eyes constantly searching for the mess of brown hair wearing a brown robe you found him, walking around like a lost puppy.

“Peter, hey, Peter!” You shout over the music that was currently blasting.

“Y/N, bedtime, curfew’s soon,” Tony says, still in his Iron Man suit, definitely a little tipsy, he points to his wrist like he would a watch.

“You’re seriously going to give me a curfew when you’re throwing a party?”

“Midnight, that’s lax, and hey,” He says, stopping you before you can run off again, “you’re not Cinderella, no missing it.”

You roll your eyes at his lame joke but nod, running off to find Peter, who was standing by one of the tables in the corner of the room.

“Hey, long time no see,” he says, voice raised slightly so you could hear him over the music.

“That was the most exhausting few hours of my life, come on, let’s dance.”

“I’m not very-,” Peter starts as you drag him into the middle of the room in between groups of people dancing. You can’t help but notice that his palm is cold and clammy in your own.

“I’m not that good of a dancer either, it’s okay,” Your hands rest lightly on his shoulders.

“Oh yeah, okay, we can, you know, just sway,” he says, hands nervously moving to sit on your waist.

You feel a nervous excitement bubble up inside of you at the idea and you know you’re probably blushing.

“Swaying is good,” you nod.

So you and Pete sway to the music, an awkward distance apart from each other, mildly hindered by your dress, the rest of the space between you was just purely being weird teenagers, you’ve never been friends with a boy, let alone danced with one, and you had no idea what Peter’s story was, but you wanted to know more about the mystery boy who was bitten by a radioactive spider.

“You look really pretty,” he says over the music, it’s hard to hear still so you tilt your head.

Half of you was wondering if he said what you thought he said, half of you wanted to hear him say it again.

“I said, I uh, I- I really like your costume.”

“Oh,” you sigh, a little disappointed.

“It’s really pretty.”

“Thanks.”

You continue to sway, feeling waves of embarrassment rush over you.

“One foot!” You hear Tony shout from across the dance floor, a path cleared between you and Peter and Tony’s line of sight. You sigh loudly, resting your head against Peter’s shoulder as you move.

“That’s what one foot means,” Peter nods in realization.

“I’ve got an idea, come here,” you say, stopping mid-sway as you pull him to one of the tables. Your eyes roam the expensive bottles of alcohol, you’ve never had it before and you look over at Peter, who’s face is pale and he shakes his head.

“I like soda better anyways,” you agree, fingers intertwining with his as you walk down the hallway to the kitchen, seeing fewer and fewer people until you were met with a nice silence, the sound barriers you helped design blocking the music from the party.

You grabbed a can of ginger ale from the fridge, “for you?”

“Ginger ale is fine.”

“Good this is the only soda we have,” you laugh.

“So what are we doing?”

“Getting out of this place, I don’t think I can smile and pretend to know anyone else.”

“That’s fair,” He says, following behind you as you climbed the stairs, “sneakers?” He catches a glimpse of your shoes beneath your dress.

“Wouldn’t be caught dead in heels, besides these are way more comfortable anyways.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I would enjoy wearing heels either?” Peter says and his face pales when you stop in front of your room.

“I’m just gonna, I’m changing outta this horribly uncomfortable thing then I’m going to show you someplace nice, away from the hustle and bustle,” you manage to get out, blushing as you look away from Peter.

He nods and gulps, awkwardly standing outside your door when you close it.

You take a quick picture in the mirror, wanting to remember the evening one way or another.

“Breath, get it together,” you try to hype yourself up as you pull the hair pins out of your hair, grabbing makeup wipes and getting rid of the makeup that painted your face.

You slipped out of your dress and tossed on a T-shirt and sweatpants, you really didn’t care what you looked like right now, and you doubted Peter cared either.

You took one last look in the mirror, taking a deep breath before opening your door.

Peter was pacing back and forth in front of the door, talking to himself.

He stops in his tracks when he sees you, pointing at your shirt. You look down, it’s just a funny graphic tee “find x, I found it’, “what?”

“I’ve got that shirt,” he says and you laugh.

“I love these things,” you say as you walk down the hallway, Peter falling in step next to you.

“So where are we going?” He asks as you take him down the stairs and to a different exit.

“There’s some trees, at the property line, absolutely beautiful, we can hang out there.”

“Oh cool.”

“Until curfew.”

“Curfew?” Peter raises his eyebrows, he probably figured, just as you had, that a curfew on a night like tonight was a little ridiculous.

“Tony’s a little paranoid,” you sigh as you slip out the back door, your fingers threading comfortably with Peter’s as you walked across the grass to the treeline.

You walked in a sort of awkward, sort of comfortable silence as both of you have so much you want to say, but don’t even know where to begin. You get to the trees and you’re about to sit down at the bottom of one when he stops you, hand letting go of yours and pointing to the tree.

You’re taken by surprise when webs shoot out from his web shooter, apparently underneath his costume this entire time. He shoots them from one tree to the next, creating what looks like a hammock.

“Wanna join me?” He asks, hand slipping back into yours.

“Up there? You sure it’s safe?”

“Designed the webs myself, so yeah, they’re pretty safe,” he says with a smirk and you’re surprised there’s more to the nervous, jittery boy next to you.

“Alright, can’t argue with that,” you laugh.

“Give it a second to dry a little,” he comments and you nod, enjoying the darkness of the night sky while out of the corner of your eye you see him staring at you. It’s not a creepy stare, but an innocent, bright-eyed, I want to know every mystery about you stare.

The next thing you know he hoists you into the webbed hammock, hands holding your waist as your legs meet the weird substance and you tumble into it, laying down and stretching your arms above your head.

Peter jumps up and lands next to you, side up against your own. His arm goes to rest below your head but he ends up elbowing you, “oh god, I’m so sorry I did that, are you okay?”

You sit up with a laugh, “it’s fine, I’m good.”

“Okay, maybe we can try this again?” He says and you nod, letting his arm rest behind you, laying down again. His hand rests against your shoulder and his head is next to yours.

“So, how do you like your new suit?” You ask, “it’s one hell of an upgrade from your onesie.”

“It’s not a onesie! Your dad called it that too, it’s not a onesie.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

“I think the suits really nice. I uh, at night I patrol around Queens, make sure everyone’s behaving, no crime going on, that sort of stuff.”

“How do you like the reconnaissance drone?” You ask excitedly, the part of the suit that you added, thought it was a nice touch.

“The what?” He asks, voice raises on confusion.

“Oh, maybe, maybe my dad didn’t show you everything the suit can do yet.”

“What do you mean everything it can do?”

“I probably shouldn’t, Tony would want to show you himself.”

“There’s added tech to the suit?”

“Please don’t tell him I said anything, I don’t think you’re supposed to know until he thinks you’re ready or something.”

“I am ready though.”

“I know I’m sure you think you are but-,”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I- I didn’t mean it like that.”

“What do you mean it like then?” He says, body tense against yours and you want to smack yourself.

“I just, I’ve only ever heard about you from Tony, and he just, says you’re too young. I don’t think he doubts your abilities, nothing like that, you’re clearly very smart, strong, all that. I just think that he’s scared of seeing something bad happen to you.”

“But he brought me to fight captain America! Clearly he thinks I’m ready!”

“No, I don’t, it’s not that. He, he probably sees someone his daughter’s age, and freaks out a little, I mean, look where I am.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean, I used to go to school, until he became Iron Man. I mean he’s always had money and people were always upset with him for one reason or another. But after he became Iron Man, he got threats, horrible threats, not just towards him but towards me as well. He was pretty paranoid the first time someone said they were going to kidnap me from school, I was nine. So since then I’ve been home schooled, by Tony, by Pepper, Jarvis, Happy sometimes. Which sort of is nice, since I’m pretty ahead in school, I can graduate this year, and I will. Just don’t know how college is going to work yet. Still working on that. But Tony’s protective of the people he loves, and he might’ve just met you but he wants to take care of you, he cares about you at least a little bit, even if it’s in his own self interest.”

“Does he, are you allowed off the compound?”

“Yes of course! Of course I am! But I just can’t go to school and any friends that I happen to make have to go through his security checks before I can give them my phone number or they can come over.”

“Have I gone through that, the rigorous security?”

“Why? Wanna be my friend?” You tease, sort of hoping he’d say yes.

“Yeah,” He says breathlessly.

Your turn your so your cheek rests against his shoulder, “I think I’d like that.”

“Y/N STARK, Y/N STARK,” a loud electronic voice starts to go off, a red light beeping on your phone.

“Fuck,” you mutter sitting up.

“What’s wrong?” He asks as you attempt to slip down from the hammock.

“It’s definitely past curfew, so my phone is flipping out at me and oh shit,” you’re tumbling out of the hammock, a short scream, stopped by Peter’s webs grabbing your hand and slowly helping you down to the ground as he slips down too.

“Sorry about that,” he says, ripping the webbing off your wrist.

“No, thanks for helping me down,” you laugh, “you should come by the lab sometime, show me what you use in your webbing.”

“Y/N STARK, Y/N STARK.”

“Alright! Alright I’m coming!” You shout up at the sky.

“Should I, I should probably go,” Peter says as you both start walking back to the compound.

“Oh, I, yeah, it was nice to meet you?” You say, voice rising, the question wasn’t for him, it was more for you, because you were hoping this wasn’t just the only time you’d meet and hang out with him. And you’d probably have to be the one to take the step to invite him over.

“I mean, if your dad, if Mr. Stark is okay with it, do you, uh want my phone number or something? So the next time we hang out we can make sure we both aren’t wearing the same graphic tee?”

You laugh, head tilted up and eyes crinkling and Peter swore you looked more beautiful here, in the pale moonlight, fresh face and just enjoying your evening than you did in the costume with your hair and makeup done, mingling and doing things you clearly didn’t enjoy.

You giggle at the statement, a funny but smooth way to get your phone number.

“Yeah, here, put your number in my phone,” you toss your phone to him and he catches it with ease, you guessed his reflexes were enhanced from the spiderbite.

He quickly types in his phone number and sends a text to himself so he has your number, he wasn’t going to let you slip through his fingers, as you get to the back entrance of the compound, the party still in full swing at the other side. You stood at the door, watching as he shifted from one foot to the other.

“It was nice to meet you,” you gulp, sticking your hand out to say goodbye, “ow.”

You hand collides with his stomach as he apparently moved in for a hug to challenge your handshake.

“Oh shit, sorry,” he says, stepping back with those wide eyes and hands held up to the side.

“You got a bulletproof vest under there or something?” You laugh, thinking part of his costume is what hit your hand.

“No, uh, nothing, just, j-just me,” he stutters out and your eyes match his in widening at the implication of his words.

Of course he’s ripped he’s Spiderman, you remind yourself.

“Well, uh, goodnight,” you nod and quickly leave him to lessen any further embarrassment on both of your parts.

You run up the stairs to your room, slamming it shut as you see several voice memos from Tony on your phone.

“Oh darling daughter of mine,” his voice is a little slurred, “fifteen minutes past curfew.”

“Okay not sure where you and Parker have disappeared to but you need to be back in your room in 10 minutes.”

“Without Parker, he needs to go home”

You sigh, sitting on the edge of your bed and sending Tony a quick message, letting him know you were back in the safety of your room and Peter was on his way home.

You see the text Peter sent himself from your phone, a simple “hi” and you shake away the smile on your face.

You open up your photo from earlier, you looked pretty, cheeks a little flushed from dancing and being with a boy you thought was pretty. Remembering the night made your heart flutter lightly in your chest as you crawled up to the top of the bed, laying your head on the pillow as you open your Instagram.

It was private, the only people who followed it were Pepper, Tony, and a few friends you made when Tony let you help run and organize his expo for teenagers. You tapped the button to post a new photo, adding a filter before your fingers hovered over the keyboard on your phone. You laid in bed thinking of a caption for a while, a semi decent one would do.

Y/N_Stark: nobody came to my princess party :/

You posted it and saw the small notification symbol on the side of your profile to show someone requested to follow you.

Peterbparkerr requested to follow you

You click on his profile, the profile picture a goofy close up picture of his face, a wide smile, eyes crinkled and you couldn’t help but smile.

You scrolled through some of his pictures, mostly completed Star Wars lego sets. You came across a picture of him with a sign in the doorway of his apartment.

The sign said “1st day of sophomore year” and his eyebrows were furrowed, finger pointing down at the sign as who you assumed was his Aunt May smiling proudly behind him with her thumbs up.

There was a picture about a year before that with the same sign, this time he had a big teethy grin as he held the sign, this time saying “1st day of freshman year” and you wondered if it was a tradition he’s been doing. You sort of wondered what it would be like to sign up for classes at a high school or college, make friends that way, go to the same school as Peter. You were getting way ahead of yourself however, for now, you could just accept his follow request.

You opened up your text messages again and open the messages to Peter.

You: you know, finding me on instagram right after we meet for the first time is kind of stalkerish

You: to clarify that was a joke

Peter: haha I get it

You: oh thank god for that

Peter: i saw your instagram photo and i

You: ???

Peter: sorry that sent before i could finish, i think you looked really pretty tonight, i just wanted to tell you that

You: thank you, you know your star wars costume wasn’t as bad as tony or i made it seem

Peter: oh thanks

As you contemplated sending a message asking him if he wanted to see the lab, partially afraid of a rejection, but also afraid of what you would do if he said yes another message from Peter came in.

Peter: was hoping I might be able to get into your lab at some point

You: just gonna use me for my dads cool tech?

Peter: maybe

Peter: to clarify that was a joke

You: oh shush

Peter: I also want to see you again

You: cool

Peter: cool?

You: aka I want to see again too

Peter: :) I’m glad

Peter: goodnight princess

Peter: I’m sorry if that was weird

You: it’s kinda weird but I dig it

***

Taglist: @tom-hollands-blog @spider-babes @unicornsyy @practicallylivesonline @tom-hollands-wife @quinjetboi @rageyoudamnednerd @sunnydays0803 @jackiehollanderr @khhbby @fancyxholland @thomasthetankson @lousimusician @amyalpha @musiclover1263 @peterbxrnes @relise-thefury @thewinterslut @starsholland @fandomdarlings @peteunderoos @saysomethingspiderman @therealcap @yamyam515 @dylanrauhl @mobbinholland @desir-ae @cvrecem @pumpkinsinnerpie @i-guess-n0t

#anyways first time really writing for peter so i hope i did him justice #peter parker #peter parker oneshot #peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker reader insert #peter parker x reader imagine #peter parker imagine

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negasonicimagines · 5 years

Text

Middle of Somewhere

request: Can I please request an imagine? Reader is dating Ellie, but Ellie doesn't know that readers dad is wade until she leaves her phone in the same room as Ellie when she's getting coffee for them both. And Ellie sees her getting a call from. "Dadpool" You can choose the ending but I think that would be funny.

synopsis: A little after Deadpool, but significantly before Deadpool 2, you and Ellie have a mostly-quiet morning. | Middle of Somewhere - The Neighbourhood

author’s note: I loooove this request and have been waiting forever for the right time to write it! Sorry it’s short, I just didn’t wanna overdo it. (...Which I think is my worst habit on this blog, especially when Wade’s thrown into the mix because he’s such an layered character and- See what I mean?)

warning(s): none! except, well, it’s Deadpool...

It’s a lazy Saturday morn-noon, and you’re gazing at Ellie’s sleeping face. She looks so peaceful like this, not faking anger or indifference or any of that. Just… Resting. You’re tempted to stroke her cheek, but she stirs, likely feeling your stare.

“Morning…” she hums, pulling you closer to her and pressing her face into your chest. “Hmm… Nice.”

You giggle at the way her inhibitions are lowered by her drowsiness and her knowledge that you feel for her what she feels for you.

“Good morning, sugarbear,” you reply, wrapping your arms around her neck.

“Sugarbear?” she questions, looking up at you sleepily.

“Yeah,” you confirm, so matter-of-factly that she has to bury her face again to avoid showing the amusement (or embarrassment) there.

“I’m not even gonna bother arguing.”

“That’s for the best,” you joke back, rubbing her back.

“Need coffee,” she mumbles into you, nuzzling.

“Mmkay... Gotta let me go for that,” you remind her, and she groans in complaint.

“Fine… But be back soon,” she orders, and you scoff as you slide out of her grip and put a bra on under her tee shirt, also putting on a pair of sweatpants.

“I’ll be right back,” you promise her, sliding on your unicorn slippers and going downstairs. There’s already a pot on; there’s a couple of communal coffee-making machines in the kitchen. You get Ellie’s “Life’s a Cunt” mug - as well as your own “World’s Best Grandpa” mug - before making your hot chocolate, waiting for the coffee in one of the machines to finish brewing.

Little do you know about the conversation that’s occurring in your room.

When your phone rang, Ellie answered it for you without even looking, knowing it was either a call you wouldn’t want to miss or a telemarketer she could fuck with.

“Are you okay, Y/N? You sound sick,” Deadpool replies, and she looks at the contact name. Dadpool. She prays to every god - or godlike being - she knows exists (Thor, Loki, the works) that it’s a spelling error.

“What the fuck?” Ellie blurts, suddenly a lot less groggy.

“Negasonic Teenage The Author Can’t Come Up With A Clever Joke, is that you?”

“I... I think?”

“Cool, cool, nice to hear from you. Next question: Why the fuck are you answering my daughter’s phone?”

“Your… Daughter?” Her voice squeaks a little at the confirmation.

“Yeah. My daughter.”

What a pickle Ellie’s gotten herself into, she realizes at his deadly tone. She sighs in relief when you enter.

“Your dad’s on the phone,” she quickly informs you.

“Oh, thanks, babe. Trade me.” Ellie hands you your phone and you give her the coffee. “Good afternoon, Dadpool, what couldn’t you say over text?” you ask. “...Uh, yeah, she’s my girlfriend. ...No, no, she is Ellie, you don’t need to kill anyone. ...Yes, she is capable of human emotion, Dad. ...You wish I got it from you! ...Wow, really? Congrats! ...Yeah, I guess, but I figured you’d be inviting her anyways based on what she’s told me. ...Okay, cool. Congratulations, again. I love you too. Okay, bye.”

“So, what was that about?”

“Oh, Dad’s finally marrying Vanessa. We’re invited,” you explain, settling back into bed with your hot chocolate.

“Uh-huh, yeah, about that… Were you ever gonna tell me your dad’s Deadpool?” Ellie wonders, glad the situation turned out for the best but a little concerned.

“Nope. Figured it’d be a lot more entertaining for you to figure it out on your own after all those snarky little comments you made,” you tell her. Also, you seem to hate him and I’m fifty-percent him and that was super daunting, you think.

“The fact that I didn’t sooner is astounding.” Looking back on your relationship and the friendship before, it’s obvious. You’re so much like Wade, and you even look kinda like him - from what she remembers of the brief times she’s seen him unmasked, at least.

“Aw, it’s okay, I like ‘em a little dumb,” you tease, squishing one of her cheeks between your thumb and finger.

“I will slaughter you,” she emptily threatens you, and you giggle.

“Drink your coffee first, before it gets cold,” you remind her with a slight smirk, and she just rolls her eyes, sipping at the wake-up juice. The teasing aspect of your smile fades, and your loving stare brings a heat to her cheeks that she wishes she could pretend was the coffee.

Vulnerability is hard for you both, but in the moments of rare simplicity you get as X-Women, it’s hard not to be tender with each other while you can; away from the prying eyes of friends and foes.

She smells chocolate and can’t help but smile at the realization that you’ve got a marshmallow in your cup. Probably for the best. Deadpool’s daughter? High on caffeine? But she shuts those thoughts down within herself quickly. You’re still the same girl she loves but can’t say she loves. (Not yet.)

“You’re such a child,” she remarks - no malice intended; it’s code for “You’re so adorable,” you’re aware.

“You’re pretty insensitive for such an S-J-W. Peter Pan Syndrome is hereditary, don’t be ableist,” you retort, and her heart is a warm flower blooming with affection - not that she’d ever make that obvious. She hints at it, though, by pressing her lips to yours.

You’re usually so annoyingly stubborn, with the smallest of things, but when she kisses you - when she touches you at all, other than sparring - you immediately give in. It’s a brief, but intimate kiss, and you sigh afterwards, taking a long drink of your hot chocolate.

Today’s going to be a great day.

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wheremytwinwatches · 4 years

Text

[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 38

Last time: Ed was super composed when talking to his crush, Granny Armstrong was here and gone before I knew it, and Selim stayed out past his bedtime. Onwards!

Riza gets back to her apartment, so shaken up over the Pride reveal that she starts at seeing eyes in the shadows, when it’s just her dog (does it have a name?). Yeesh, she has had a day, hasn’t she? The phone ringing suddenly doesn’t help her nerves, nor does Roy being cheesy and trying to pass off his mountain of flowers to her. Ocne he hears her little huff of stress he does a complete 180 and asks what’s wrong, but since we can’t know if Pride is listening she claims that she’s fine. Roy’s left standing in the phonebooth, glaring down at the silent headset in his hand. Huh, didn’t realize that Sideburns was still having to tag along with Kimblee, thought he’d stay at Briggs. Anyways, Kimblee and the Blondes have wound up at an abandoned mining town. Time to make like a cliched horror movie and split up! Two of Kimblee’s mooks are assigned to follow the Elrics. Episode 38 - “Conflict at Baschool” Now how to ditch the Mooks and the dozen other soldiers with them?

Eh. If it works, it works. They run off from the common soldiers but the Mooks are hot on their heels. Wait never mind they’re chasing them into the building too, they turn the wait what? Where did they… oh yeah, Ed’s an Earthbender. Ha! Nice job pulling up a wall that muffles Al’s heavy footsteps! Uuuunfortunately, while they’re on their own to search Baschool now, in the words of Ed “this place is too damn big”. How on earth are they supposed to find Scar and May in all of this? [Ed]: “If would make things a hell of a lot easier if Scar and that girl just came to us…” [May]: “Alphonse!” Well that was easy. Aw, she still has her huge crush on Al, he’s not helping with his talk about how they were trying to find her and he really needed to see her. Yup, she (and Shao May) are so deep in Crush Mode she can’t even hear him ask for Alkahestry lessons. Ed snaps her out of it by demanding lessons, she tries to let him down gently- wait, “let me out"? Uh oh. [Angry!May]: “Excuse me?! Who is this woman, Al? How could you do this to me?” Aw, sorry May. Don’t worry, you’ll find a guy some day. Hey, Marcoh! Hey… Yoki? Wait, has Ed actually ever met Yoki before now? Yoki sure seems to think they did… Ok, apparently this was a manga story, we’re getting a silent movie but the dialouge is in Japanese so I’ve got no idea what anyone’s saying. Apparently Yoki used to be mayor of a mining town, then Ed came in with a bunch of gold bars and… bought the title to the town? Now hold up, am I understanding that Ed Transmuted a bunch of coal to gold in order to trick Yoki into giving up the title, and then passing it on to the miners who then kicked Yoki out of town? How? Is there such a thing as temporary Transmutation? I thought the effects were always permanent? So after he got kicked out, Yoki went on to try and restore his fortunes through various trades (he failed in each one), “investing his savings” (the casino took the shirt off his back), and straight up trying to steal (from two GIANT women who could honestly give The Mighty Armstrong a run for his money in the muscles department, yikes), which led to him running into a young girl at a piano who… wait… OH MY LETO DID YOU REALLY TRY TO STEAL FROM THE ARMSTRONG MANOR?! HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE?!

After he somehow survived an Armstrong-propelled piano to the face, he ended up in the Ishvalan compound, where he would do the second-stupidest thing in his life trying to take Scar for a bounty, and he’s finally ended up here. So we’ve got a room where Yoki is ranting about his “epic vengeance”, Winry and Al are trying to calm down a heartbroken May, Ed’s still pushing for Alkahestry lessons, and Marcoh is probably wondering if he wasn’t better off with the Goths. So where’s Scar? Kimblee’s getting the news that Winry’s escaped her own minders, Sideburns volunteers to go look for her and takes command of two troops, brushing off Kimblee’s words. The Crimson Alchemist is left standing there, scowling after a proper leader. Eh, you got some good Manipulator points from last episode, but you’ve still got to make up for your pitiful train battle. Scar’s going through some cans and bottles for food when two of Kimblee’s Mooks show up and demand his surrender. What, you punks think you can take on The Killer of Alchemists? Oh! Apparently they’re chimeras, part boar and part toad respectively. Time to kick some monster butt, Scar! Mid-ep pictures of Yoki and the Chimeras (Zampano and Jerso). Yeah, I’m just gonna call you Boar and Toad. The Blondes and the Brunettes are sitting in a circle now, Ed explaining that he found out what Philosopher’s Stones are made of, and their new angle of researching Alkahestry. And what do you know, Marcoh’s got a book by someone who worked to combine the Transmutation disciplines. Ed’s not too happy to hear that they need Scar to break the code (what, you guys didn’t work on that between the cabin and this mining town?). Ah well, where is the Ishvalan, anyway? *boom* There he is! Ed and Al order the others to stay put and head his way. Toad is surprisingly fast for his bulk, dodging Scar’s HoDs and kicks while Boar launches spikes from his back. Also, Toad can spit goop. One drawback to Scar’s style, it’s entirely melee. The chimeras plan to just stick to ranged attacks to wear him down. Scar tries to run off to the side, but a spike cuts his arm and goop glues his hand to the ground. Oh no, if only there was someone on the way who could save him…

Da dada dah! Ed and Al are here to save the day! Al picks up on them being Kimblee’s goons from Central. Now, how to- “AAAAH! TALKING MONSTERS!” Hahahaha! Oh, that is priceless! Pretend to freak out over the inhuman beasts in the room that are “pretending to be your friends”, so you’ve got an excuse if they report back to Central. Toad tries to slime them but notes that Ed is faster than Scar… and grinning like a loon? Oh yeah, this is his first time fighting with his new automail, it’s lighter than the old set so he moves faster! Hits lighter though, Toad’s back up and spitting actual spit. Thanks for telling us what it is, now Ed can break it down to water and freeze your back! And throw his brother into the Toad? Oh, ouch! Metal Armor + Frozen Flesh = Bad Times. Whoop, Boar’s back up, yelling that he and Ed are on the same side. Oh yeah? Prove it! If you’re human then transform back and ahahaha! [Ed]: “Thanks for the opportunity, sucker!” Alright, one Chimera down, knock out the Toad and LETO! What the hell Al, did you just snap his neck?! Jeebus! Scar’s freed himself from the goop, good. Now we can all head back to the others and what. Ed, no. You were literally just told that you need him to decipher the journal and you’re both working against Central now, just tell him what you’ve learned and WHY. NO. YOU DO NOT NEED TO FIGHT. STOP IT. You want him to pay for what he’s done? Then get his help deciphering the journal, fix your bodies, then you can have a great big revenge brawl. Ok fine, whatever. Ed and Al charge him, you might wanna look out for the HoD or protect your arm… oh yeah, the new arm is an alloy, not steel. Just like when Ed tried disarming Buccy, Scar’s failure just means Ed’s close enough to kick him. But like his file says, when Scar’s in trouble he tends to wreck the ground, he bursts through the rubble to strike Ed- [Winry]: “Don’t hurt them!” Winry?! Ok while I appreciate the character development and the chance to confront your parents’ killer, did you leave the Brunettes? Scar’s distracted by her arrival, giving Ed and Al the chance to knock him down and secure his arm. Before she can talk to Scar though, Sideburns shows up. Hopefully Kimblee’s not too close behind. Sideburns orders “the ungodly experiments by our superiors” tied to a column (so they’re still alive?), approaches Scar wait what no don’t shoot him! We need him to break the code! Ed, Al, stop him! Winry? Hoo boy. Winry’s confronting Scar. [Winry]: “Why? Why did you kill my mother and father?” [Scar]: “...there’s nothing I can say that won’t sound like an excuse. And nothing can change the fact that I am responsible for their deaths. Wait, boom?! What? No! Ok ok, calm down, maybe this is another Ross Deception. Trick Kimblee into thinking that Scar is dead? Sparks and a flame show Buccy underground, still with the Tunnel Rescue Team and saying… uh oh. They’re over the 24 hours, and Armstrong the Great said they’d cover the entrance with concrete after that. Come on, don’t leave these guys stuck! They aren’t Alchemists, they’ll have to go back through the Pride-infested tunnel and find another way out! Well, Buccy tries knocking on the door anyways. Silence. Crap. Alright, back down- hey, it opened! It’s Tank Grandpa! Did you really defy Armstrong The Great’s orders? Nice knowing you, buddy. What do you mean, it hasn’t been 24 hours? I doubt that Buccy went on that mission with an improperly timed watch… unless he was given one, to ensure he got back on time? [Tank Grandpa]: *points to shattered pocketwatch* “It’s a nice watch, isn’t it? General Armstrong gave it to me whenever you guys left.” HA! Best General in the show by far. Sorry Grumman, you’ll have to settle for second. Armstrong the Great is hanging out on top of the fort when Buccy gives his report on two survivors. Apparently she’s outside to look at the mountains, admiring the simplicity of their black and white in the winter. Buccy must be feeling really damn confident right now because he argues that it’s not true, if she just looks up she can see the blue sky. [Buccy]: “There’s nothing that’s entirely black and white.” *MASSIVE SHIT-EATING GRIN* “And thanks for showing your soldiers a little mercy! It means a lot, sir.” [Armstrong the Great]: *smiles* “That’s nice, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

New Ship confirmed! Incoming convoy! Are Kimblee and the others coming back? Did they forget to pack lunch? Oh crap. Central’s already sent some forces to find out what happened to Raven. Explosions! Back in Baschool, Kimblee’s finally shown up to the building where everyone was fighting, sees Ed rush out through the smoke. [Ed]: “You bastard! This is all your fault Kimblee, you were supposed to be watching Winry!” Wait what? NO. Argh that’s Winry being carried by Scar no no how did he escape did May break him out why can none of these idiots just talk to each other?! Argh! Wait, hold on. There’s a bandage on his cut arm… Ha! Elaborate Ross Deception, go!

#wmtw #where my twin watches #full metal alchemist #full metal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #fmab 38

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piscesbarnes · 5 years

Text

Lil Bit Floozy → Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky x reader

warnings: reader is of age to drink(?) drunk reader. fluff. soft!bucky

prompt: bucky’s more prone to be responsive to you when you’re a soft, drunken mess

“(Y/N),” Natasha said with a warning tone as you pulled her along your side. You were cheery and encouraging as you dragged her to the bar with you.

“Come on, it’s our first night back from our mission,” you whined, already tipsy yourself. Nat had been sent on your behalf, to check in on you per Steve, who noticed how comfortable you were getting with the female bartender. “Bella, this is Nat.” you gushed. Bella was a latina-looking woman. Black hair to match her outfit. She was a little bit taller than you were, but your heels helped you put up a good fight.

“Nat! Heard so much about you,” Bella grinned at her before flickering her eyes to you. “You were right, she is gorgeous.” Natasha’s eyes met your big ones, almost scoffing at your poor attempts to stick around. It worked though.

Bella and Natasha hit it off quickly. The flirting was more than obvious, plus they were both babysitting you. Hitting two birds with one stone. Not to mention the free drinks Bella would discreetly slide over to you. Tequila, Bella’s recommendation.

They listened to you mumble to yourself as you took shots, occasionally responding. It was amazing how they could be engulfed in two different conversations. You even had trouble trying to decipher the codes they were speaking.

It wasn’t until a Rihanna song had blasted through the club that you moved from your seat. You squealed in delight, something you’d never do regularly, but it was so hard to contain your excitement with the intoxication drawing over you heavily.

“Nat!” you tugged on her arm, pouting your lips like a child. Nat looked at Bella. Bella shrugged, nodding her head, shouting something to the other bartender before tugging off her apron and hopping over the counter. Natasha made a sly comment to the dark-haired girl she’d clicked so well with.

Nat and Bella did their thing. They tried keeping up with you, but with the change of energy, your heartbeat matched everyone else’s. To the beat of the song. So you were jumping all around, losing them within seconds of entering the club. Despite it being hard to breathe in the musty room full of hot, sweaty dancers, you found yourself getting along quite well with those surrounding you. Also, unlike you.

From the corner of the room, you could see Bucky sitting at a table by himself. He sipped on a dark drink, a coke probably. Bucky was your friend. And he wasn’t having fun, it didn’t look like it at least. At this, you frowned. If he wouldn’t come to you and have fun, you’d bring it to him. You stumbled over to him, a giggle leaving your lips. Bucky stared at you with wide eyes, not used to this...softer side of you.

“Buck!” you beamed brightly, throwing your arms around him. Hm... the music was softer than it was out there. He tensed up at the touch. But because it was you, a very intoxicated you, he decided he could allow it. You had no idea what got into you. One look at Bucky and your heart swelled. “Hewwo!” you coo’d. You couldn’t be any more adorable.

“Hi doll.” Bucky returned the smile, hesitantly lifting his hands to grip your waist. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah!” you nodded your head, batting your lashes at him. “Jus’ a lil floozy. Jus’ a bit though,” you cut yourself off with a little giggle. You sounded so stupid, but you were so cute, he just wanted to squish you. “Saw you, you weren’t having fun, so I just- you- w-wanted you to have fun.” you stumbled over your words just as bad as you did your feet. He continued to stare at you in awe; how could someone be so cute?

“It’s okay, this isn’t really my scene,” he tried to dismiss. You were adorable. You stopped your fun to come and make sure he was feeling okay. Even though he wanted you to be content, he didn’t feel like dancing. Not like this anyway. “It’ll be hard for me to have fun in a place like this.”

“Not even if you talk to me?” you murmured with a small frown smearing across your lips. His eyes flickered there, causing him to lick his own.

“I would prefer you here with me.” and it wasn’t at all a lie. Bucky liked your company. He was quite curious to see how you were while you were drunk, he’d be willing to hold your hair back if you vomited. Bucky was also very cautious with you. He’d rather you in his sights than trying to dance up on strangers. He was sure everyone in the building wasn’t just hyped up on alcohol.

“R-really?” you coo’d, feeling yourself becoming smaller in his arms. You wanted to squeal and giggle while rolling around in your bed, kicking your feet. But you couldn’t. It wasn’t appropriate for the setting. Even under the dark lights, he could sense the blush that blessed your cheeks.

“Of course babydoll. Wouldn’t have anyone else.” he told you. You don’t know how or why, but you climbed into his lap, feeling super comfortable with him. Bucky certainly wasn’t expecting it, but he wasn’t gonna complain.

“Not even Steve?” you slightly teased. Bucky chuckled, shaking his head.

“Not even Steve. That man is so far up Tony’s ass, I don’t wanna hear another word from the lovesick fool.” Bucky commented. You giggled at the swear word and it’s context. His hand came up to the middle of your back, holding you up in his lap.

“Steve’s just really in love with the guy, okay? Don’t be mad at him, you know he’s always been a sap.” you tried to defend the blondie. But Bucky was right. Steve never shut up and his man and it was getting to everyone.

“You know me (Y/N), a sap I can handle. Steve’s on another level.” this was also true. Bucky was a hopeless romantic, asking you for novels day after day, so you knew he could handle a regular sap. But Steve was in love.

“Steve’s in love,” was now your only argument. But you had Bucky trumped.

“I guess you’re right.” Bucky sighed in defeat. He looked over to see Steve holding the Stark’s hand, gazing at him with so much adoration. He did a small, half smile, feeling happy for his best friend. Bucky glanced at you, to find you staring at him with the same adoring eyes that Steve wore. “Is there something on my face?”

“Nuh uh,” you shook your head. “You’re just... pwetty.” you gleamed up at him, a shy smile spreading across your face. He smiled at this. He was sure you’d made him smile more in these twenty minutes than he had in a whole week. Bucky kind of hoped this was something he could get used to.

“I’m pretty?” Bucky questioned, giving into you as hi leaned his face in to pinch your cheek like you were a kid. Of course, in your intoxicated state, it made you feel so warm inside. “But you’re a pretty baby, aren’t you?”

It was like Bucky knew what he was doing to you. Babying you while he already made you feel so... tiny. You liked it a lot. This affectionate side of Bucky that no one really saw. You got a free pass because you’re drunk, but you were hoping you wouldn’t forget.

The blue-eyed man let you curl up into his chest, stuffing your face against his pectoral muscles to hide the blush. Bucky couldnt stop himself from stroking your hair, your eyes fluttering shut as you leaned into his chest.

“Doll?” he softly mumbled against the shell of your ear. Bucky wasn’t even sure if you’d heard him over the music.

“Uh huh?” you hummed against him, nuzzling your nose into his neck, inhaling his scent. His Versace cologne mixed with his sandalwood candles.

“You want me to take you home? Get you in more comfy clothes so you can sleep?” his voice was overwhelmingly soft. It made you melt nonetheless.

“Mm, only I can be the big spoon.” you answered sheepishly. Bucky hadn’t the intentions of cuddling with you. He didn’t want it to seem like he was taking advantage of you. “Wanna hold you. Big, soft puppy.”

“Baby, I shouldn’t.” he stroked your back, lulling you farther into sleep. You pulled back, a pout forming on your lips. Fuck, how could he say no to that? “I just don’t want you to wake up and kill me.”

“Why would I do that?” you whined. If you could stomp your feet, you would. “S’only cuddles.” when he didn’t seem swayed, your pout only got worse. “Fine! I’ll trade cuddles in forrrrr....” you trailed off.

“For what?” Bucky asked with a tilt of his head.

“Your shirt to sleep with and-...and a kiss!” you chirped. Jesus, how come you never made these advances at him when you were sober? He knew you’d never give up, even if you were drunk.

“How about, I give you my shirt and cuddles. Then in the morning, if you’re still feeling it, I’ll give you that kiss?” you weren’t sure if you heard him correctly, halfway listening to the music. But you were sure you’d be getting what you wanted.

“Hm,” you pretended to think about it, a knowing grin on your lips. “Deal!”

The next morning, you woke up in your bed with a headache. You felt more groggily as ever, turning over to curl up into a ball, only to be met with Bucky’s sleeping state. You blinked a few times in disbelief. You peeked under the sheets and let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. He was clothed in his pajamas. You were in the shirt he wore to the club, meaning it still smelt strongly of him and his cologne.

Bucky was on his back, his hair splayed out from underneath him all over your pillow. His mouth was slightly ajar, the sound of his breathing only escaping his mouth. Looking over, you realized you’d gotten wasted at the club. Shit.

After a bunch of cute little babbling and purrs from you, he managed to get you to fall asleep. He could have retreated to his room, you were too far gone in your slumber anyway. And there was a bigger chance of you not remembering your fun night. But a part of him wanted to make sure you were okay. He would have to explain himself in the morning, but he figured that you wouldn’t be angry with him. He did set out an aspirin and a bottled water for you, which you happily downed, eyes steadily trained on the big man in your bed.

You rummaged your memory of last night. The last thing you could recollect was introducing Nat to Bella. Everything else was a blur. You flipped to lie on your side, chin in your palm with your elbow propped on your pillow as you admired Bucky. You wondered if he was even real. Was this real?

You extended your arm out, your hand running over his chest. Bucky didn’t react, maybe his breathing, but that was it. You chewed on your bottom lip in wonder. What had you done to get him in your bed?

“Y’know,” Bucky grunted as he stretched in your bed, eyes still shut. Your eyes widened even more. “You keep lookin’ at me like that doll and I might just have to kiss you.”

“W-what?” you were bewildered. Bucky turned to his side, facing you as his eyes opened. “Bucky, I don’t- I, uh-“

“You’re wondering why I’m here,” he stated in his gruff morning voice. Bucky had you like putty in his hands and he hadn’t even had a full-on conversation with you yet. “Well, you were a little bit floozy last night, those were your words by the way. You came to me and talked to me a little bit. I wanted to take you home so I could put you to bed,” he paused, smacking his lips, still waking up. “You said you’d only come home if we cuddled. Initially, I said no. But we bargained for my shirt and cuddles.”

“Oh.” you blinked. Seemed fair enough. It sounded like you to be affectionate as you were.

“That’s not all though.” Bucky grinned as the sun began to peek before behind the curtain. “When I said no, you said you’d take my shirt and a kiss instead. But I told you, I’d give you the latter and if you were still up for it in the morning, I’d give you a kiss.” you tried to stop it, you really did, but you couldn’t. Your jaw dropped slightly, but you regained your composure quickly.

It looked like you both were out of character this morning. Bucky was oozing with confidence, while you couldn’t even keep up your emotionless exterior. You were so ready to jump his bones last night and here you were, a shy, messy puddle in front of him and it amused him. He was like a kid and wanted to mess around in the puddle, play with it a little. This was your chance.

“Okay, then kiss me.” you demanded quietly. Your words confirmed his suspicions. You wanted him, drunken words really were just an unspoken truth.

His hand reached out and brushed along the side of your neck, pushing away your hair. Bucky’s hand grapsed the side of your neck, pulling you toward him harshly until you were snuggly fit against him. You were on his chest at this point, giving him the best morning view he could’ve ever asked for. Bucky watched you for a little bit, desire and infatuation sprouting across his oceanic eyes. He couldn’t help but brush his thumb across your chin. His finger came into slight contact with your bottom lip, a soft gasp leaving you. Bucky noticed, of course he did. He couldn’t help but let his thumb wander to brush across your lips, your tongue instinctively licking your lips at the same moment. You caught him off guard, but he liked it. It wasn’t long before he had you under him, your cheek cupped in his large hand as he kissed you hard. Bucky nipped at your lips a few times before pulling away, leaving you breathless.

“I think...” you panted, brushing the palm of your hand across his jaw to which he cuddled his face even deeper in your hand. “I’m a little floozy again.”

#ngl i wrote this drunk when i was feeling needy for affection n da lovins #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #marvel imagine #marceline writes

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gloomiedyke · 6 years

Text

Of Course

On Ao3 Here

Summary: Virgil’s only ever really had one answer when it came to the others.

Pairings: LAMP/CALM, either romantic or platonic, whichever you prefer

Word Count: 2,306

Warnings: None, I don’t think. Fluff.

Virgil lived in grey.

He didn’t mean to sound so dramatic or emo about it (despite what Creativity might say). It wasn’t some huge, momentous statement or anything. It was just a fact of his life- if he could really even be called “living”, being a part of another person.

Whatever, the point was: Virgil not-quite-lived in grey. It was just how it was- anxiety was neutral, capable of being equally good or bad, helpful or hindering, life-saving or life-ruining. It all depended on the person, and their mind, and their life. How they were coded to be, and how they chose to be.

Thomas was a good person. He was kind, positive, sensitive, understanding. But at his core, Thomas was emotional, really emotional. And emotion could swing either way, especially when it was strong. So Virgil lived in greys, sometimes swinging hard enough to hit ‘bad’ or ‘good’, mostly just providing a subtle guidance and only kicking in with any strength during emergencies.

Until, that is, Thomas hit puberty.

Fucking thanks, hormones.

By the time things had calmed down the other Sides were set in their opinions of him. (And, unfortunately, Thomas himself had become aware of him, and Virgil didn’t know how to feel about that). Of course Morality was as kind as ever, but Virgil knew he made the mock father figure just a little too uncomfortable. Logic was mostly unbiased, so it was possible he was just indifferent, which Virgil didn’t mind all that much, even if he got so painfully lonely sometimes. And Princey… well. The Prince had never much liked Anxiety; when they were young he’d felt that Virgil’s attempts to keep Thomas from death got in the way of his dream chasing. As they got older, and Virgil’s fears and control over Thomas grew, Roman only believed it all the more.

Virgil figured that was just the way things were. They’d never been all that close, and he didn’t need to be liked (Thomas’ fear of rejection gave away the lie here, but he didn’t need to acknowledge that). It didn’t matter, and it wouldn’t change, so he might as well get used to it.

He hadn’t expected to care about them quite so much, though.

Anxiety had always cared about the others, of course- he was both the survival instinct and the protective instinct, after all. But then Thomas started making the videos, and they were all forced to spend time together and actually talk to each other, beyond just insults (though there were a lot of those, too). And, more quickly than he’d thought, he’d gotten to know the others on a more personal level.

Patton was as loving as Virgil had always thought- not to mention funnier. Logan was smart, full of a wonder over new things, and so much kinder than he realized. And Roman…

Roman was everything Anxiety wasn’t.

Brave. Strong. Charming. The Prince never let anything as trivial as anxiety stop him, never let his own fears get in the way of creation. But, beyond even that-

Roman had absolutely no trouble talking to the others, being friends with them. He didn’t stutter, didn’t avoid eye contact, didn’t shake when faced with something as utterly stupid as conversation. Roman didn’t feel the need to hide to avoid a panic attack. He could be better, be good enough and bright enough, and Virgil couldn’t help but resent him for that.

And even if they couldn’t love him, he couldn’t help but-

“Hiya, kiddo!” Morality chirped at him from in front of the oven, glasses sitting crooked above a blinding smile.

Virgil nodded slightly, sliding past him towards the coffee pot. “Hey, Mo.”

“I was just making some cookies! I know it’s a little late, but,” Patton winked at him, leaning close in a cartoonishly conspiring way, “I think we deserve to live a little dangerous, huh?”

He shrugged in response, but he couldn’t help a small smile. The “Dad” Side tended to do that to people. Patton had to be where all that goodness Thomas exuded came from, Anxiety was sure. His levels of sweetness could cause cavities, and Virgil was damn sure it didn’t come from him.

When he turned back around, coffee in hand, he paused. The other Side was standing, still, in the middle of the kitchen, eyes on the oven. This in and of itself was not unusual; Patton always got excited when baking, and liked to watch the cookies turn golden as they found their shape. But something was different, here. There was no smile, no giddy gleam in his hazel eyes, no barely suppressed bouncing or cheerful humming. Patton didn’t even seem to be seeing the oven, eyes gone distant and uncharacteristically quiet. Virgil had never seen him so… muted.

“... Hey.”

The other jerked slightly at Virgil’s rasp, before smiling big at him. “Yeah, kiddo? Did you need something? Are you okay?”

“Uh, I’m good. Are… you… ?” Virgil asked, hesitant. He wasn’t any good at this, at talking to people. Sure, he could trade quips with Princey, and listen to Logic ramble every once in a while, but when it came to actual conversation he just got too nervous too quickly.

“I’m great! With cookies on the way, how could anyone feel crummy?”

Virgil snorted at the pun, biting down on his smile. “Nice.”

Patton’s grin turned more genuine (though it was hard to tell, which scared him a little- Patton shouldn’t be this good at pretending, at hiding whatever he was hiding. It was Patton).

“Wanna hear some more cookie jokes? Some of ‘em are pretty sweet!”

Morality giggled at his own pun, hands clasping together and joy melting into something almost entirely real.

And, really, what could Virgil say, in the face of that?

On a quiet sigh of relief, he murmured, “Of course.”

Patton didn’t seem to question how out of character he was acting, thankfully.

Virgil winced at each clack. He never would have said anyone could type passive aggressively, but Logic had apparently figured it out. The self-proclaimed “unbiased” Side was working determinedly on his laptop, which he’d set up at the breakfast bar that morning and seemingly hadn’t moved from since.

Anxiety considered him quietly from the table, watching sidelong without turning his face from his phone. Logan’s stiff, tense shoulders and slightly hunched posture practically radiated his irritation, and each just-slightly-too-forceful clack on the keyboard only seemed to wind him even tighter.

Without a word, Virgil calmly stood and moved to the stove. Logic twitched, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge him at all, until the darker trait set a gently steaming cup of green tea at his side.

This seemed to finally jerk the overworked Side’s attention from whatever document he was working on- wide eyes, the exact same shade as Thomas’ because Logan was Logic and thus unchanged by fancies of the mindspace, stared blankly at Anxiety for a moment before roving slowly to the cup by his elbow.

Virgil turned away without waiting for a response, palms gone clammy at his own ridiculous actions (why would you do that you probably made it wrong he probably thinks you’re weird you should just mind your own business fuck) and wanting nothing more than to hide in his room for a while.

“Thank you, Anxiety.”

So softly he doubted the other could hear, and without turning back: “Of course.”

When Roman found him in the living room, one of the rare times Anxiety was hanging out in there (sometime he just needed to get out of his room, and the voices it loosed on him all night), he knew it was going to be one of those days. One of those conversations.

Virgil tensed slightly, and when Roman snapped “Jason Toddler” In greeting, he was sure. The darker Side steeled himself.

“‘Sup, Princey. What’s with the hair, get in a fight with your pillow this morning?”

Just like he’d expected, Roman turned sharply on Virgil, who stood automatically, hiding his shaking hands in his hoodie pockets.

“Really, Obnoxious Fumes? ‘Cause I don’t think anyone who looks like they fell out of a cybergoth’s fantasy has the right - or fashion sense enough - to be making comments.” The Prince snapped, face darker than Virgil’s comment had warranted, and the embodiment of anxiety braced himself. He knew Roman needed this, needed to lash out somehow, and that it couldn’t be at Patton, who'd be heartbroken, or Logan who’d take it too personally.

Virgil had always made a good scapegoat.

It was another ten minutes of increasingly cutting quips before they got loud enough that Logan heard them and harsh enough that Patton felt them through Thomas.

“Stop!” Their heart yelled, silencing both of them (though anxiety had calmed as soon as the other entered the room- he couldn’t handle the thought of catching Patton in the cross-fire).

Roman finally stepped away, and already he could see something loosened in the others frame, as strange as it seemed. Patton glared them down, and Logan shot them a disapproving glance before returning to his room to read or finish whatever they’d distracted him from.

“Thanks for the pointless argument,” Roman snarled, heavy with sarcasm and laced with a hidden, desperate kind of honesty.

“Of course, Princey. Any time.”

Virgil never thought himself capable of leaving them, leaving Thomas, but he’s always been a selfish creature (he’s better off without me they’ll be so much happier what do I even give them what can I offer without hurting them fucking buck up they’ll be happier this way just leave).

Still, he hates himself a little more after, and he’s not sure if it’s for leaving or for waiting so long to do it.

And then they come for him.

They learn his name. (My name is Virgil- there, it’s like a band-aid, just rip it off-)

They don’t leave. He still doesn’t know what to do with that.

“Kiddo?”

Virgil’s gaze flicks up from his phone, instantly aware of how pale and tired Patton looks, freckles stark against his usually pink-flushed cheeks. “Yeah, Pat?”

The other grins at him, still too good at lying for Virgil to be at all comfortable with. “I don’t want to bother you, and it’s nothing at all important really, I just wanted to ask- if you’re not busy, y’know, if you might-”

“What do you need, Patton?” Their heart’s smile falters a little at his quiet rasp, but he tries again.

“Oh, I was just wondering if you’d like to watch some cartoons with your ol’ fun-loving father figure friendo. If you’re not busy.”

And Virgil’s still learning how to let himself be so openly gentle, but Patton’s never been all that hard for him to reach for, and really, what else could he say?

“Of course.”

He glances up at Logan’s arrival, and can’t help a small smile. The other Side carries an Agatha Christie book in one hand, coffee mug in the other, and he actually bumps into the door jam on his way in, eyes glued to the pages.

“Hey, Logan.”

His head jerks up at Virgil’s voice, and he offers a small nod, something warming in his face. Virgil doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to that reaction, can’t stop his smile or the shaking in his hands.

“Hello, Virgil. How are you?”

“Good,” he murmurs, ducking slightly to see the cover of Logan’s book as the other sits at the counter beside him. “What’s the latest research topic?”

The Sides eyes light up, and he straightens, hands darting up to gesture as he flies into a ramble about something to do with the stars. Virgil watches quietly, sipping at his coffee, and humming at the right moments to show his attention. Logan has a problem with being heard- he gets defensive if he feels like the person he’s speaking to doesn’t care about what he has to say, and he’ll stop talking altogether.

After an hour or so, Logic’s words peter out, and he adjusts his glasses self-consciously. “Thank you for asking. I… hm, yes, thank you.”

Virgil’s lips quirk at Logan’s awkward cough, and he stands to refill their mugs. “Of course.”

“Hello, Cloud Gloom.” Roman’s grand pronunciation seems strangely subdued, though it isn’t super obvious.

“‘Sup, Roman.” Virgil watches him steadily, still and calm (he’s still getting used to not tensing up when the other walks in). Roman holds up well enough for a few seconds, and then starts to squirm under his gaze.

“So, what are you angsting about in this little corner of the mindscape?”

Virgil raises an eyebrow and casts a pointed look around the common room he’s currently occupying. Roman shifts uncomfortably before throwing his body into motion again, all grand gestures and determination. “Well, no need to be shy, Welcome to the Purple Parade.”

Virgil tilts his head slightly, dropping his gaze back to his phone. “C’mere.”

Roman stutters to a halt. “What?”

“Come here.” The darker trait nods to the couch next to him, glancing up only briefly.

Roman hesitates, seems to consider fleeing, but eventually moves to perch beside him. Virgil holds still for a minute, letting the other relax, before shifting over to rest his weight against the royal. The other stiffens in shock at the contact, but Virgil ignores it, queuing up a buzzfeed video he knows Roman will like and settling in, weight firmly holding the other Side in place.

Gradually, he relaxes, and the darker trait elects not to mention it. Just pulls up another video, resolved to pretend this isn’t happening if it’ll make the both of them less awkward.

Of course, Roman never does what’s expected of him.

“... Virgil?”

“Yeah, Princey?”

“... Thanks.”

And, really, Virgil has only ever had one response when it comes to these three.

“Of course.”

Soundtrack:

Billy Raffoul

James Bay

Amber Run

(playlist "Of Course" is on Spotify, under the profile "RainyJames")

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #LAMP #CALM #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #fluff #fanfiction #fic #fanfic #mine #TS #gloomie writes #gloomie fic #gloomie post

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beihonglin · 6 years

Text

seeing lin yanjun irl!!

okay i want to preface this by saying that yanjun is Really Not My Type (my type is zhangjing / honglin / eunwoo i.e. soft smiley angels) so all this is coming from a non-yanjun stan!! please don’t kill me

so a little while back this guy i follow on wechat posted about yanjun’s flight schedule from shanghai to new york and @ynajun and i were like !!!!!! except he didn’t post any details so we had to scout around for information ourselves?? i.e. relying on info from friends & fansites’ previews of him leaving shanghai and counting 14h forwards and trying to find flight details on flight apps

this is gonna get long y’alls so under the cut it goes

180907

but fast forward and we’re at jfk terminal 1 at 2pm and ready to die!! we meet a bunch of c-fans who specially flew from china to new york just to follow him (it’s insane how much money they have!!!!!! one of them was just like ‘sure i’m gonna buy yanjun a dior gift just because’ even though ! she was an ikun/isee ! and not an evanism!!) and some who drove down to ny for the weekend and we form a group chat!

and so we wait one and a half hours for yanjun to come out of customs dammit yanjun and he !!!! appears!!!!

skinny legend himself!!!! and we can’t see him at all bc he’s all bundled up but it’s okay we know he a tol and skinny god!!!! also bc he's looking down at the ground and makes no acknowledgement of the people around him whatsoever

also there's a LOT of people and everyone follows him out of the waiting space into the pick-up area (it really wasn’t as crowded as it looks in the picture like there was space to walk and stuff but also i’m used to new york crowds so i can’t objectively say)

but boi gets in a car and drives away and conno and i have to leave for a meeting anyway so we go back!

and proceed to go to times square after the meeting bc we’re both dumbasses and thought he would go to times square... bUT GUESS WHAT AYEEE WE SAW HIM THERE!!!

jk lmao he didn’t go to times square that night so we sat there like two idiots for two hours in a slight drizzle for nothing ajajkahskjs

180908

okay so the night before we’re sitting on the group chat and one of the jiejies in the chat was like hey bitches so tmr he’s gonna be at world trade centre for the longchamp show at 3pm and at the soho store at 4pm yall wanna go? and ofc we’re all like ??? yeS????

so we meet for lunch and start camping out at world trade centre at 1.30pm waiting for him to come and he !! doesn’t show up until the last minute

also bc we were waiting for so long one of the jiejies was like, “damn if he doesn’t show up soon i’m jumping wall and opening a fansite for the security guards,,” which was ?? understandable bc look at one of them:

like ?? damn boi

and after a lot of false scares later (other celebrities show up and everyone rushes there only to find out it’s not yanjun etc) GOD HIMSELF FINALLY ARRIVES JESUS CHRIST ON A STICK

connie: “what did he do in his past life to deserve this face,,,, fucK you,,”

yall i got an ask asking if he really was unphotogenic and,,,, yanjun,,, mr leej,,,,, a whole god,,,,,,,,, listen you know how you try to take a photo of the sun but your camera fucks up and you’re left with one (1) shining dot in the middle of a black blur,,,, that’s what taking pictures of lin yanjun is like

also to clarify i don’t whitewash my pictures i only adjust for exposure, shadows, contrast and vibrance so uh mr golden statue in all his glory

also there was like a shit ton of people (more than the airport crowd) mostly bc there were also reporters and other non-yanjun fansites + random people from the memorial site across the road who came over to see what the commotion was so i’d estimate about 50 people:

but also ?? his name 冷彦俊 (cold yanjun) really isn’t for nothing he didn’t look at anyone at all and mostly stared into the distance and he didn’t smile or acknowledge anyone once the entire weekend and his rbf was ?? really hella strong so mmmmmmmmm idk

also ^ this is the best picture i took all weekend oof i’m really proud of it please don’t edit or crop logo thanks

so after he goes into the building we all sit around and cry for a good ten minutes before getting our shit together and planning our next course of action (read: i pull out lightroom and start editing photos until everyone else decides on our next course of action bc i’m terrible at making decisions)

and after a good half hour it’s decided that conno and i check out the spring street location while the rest of them wait for him to come out of the longchamp show!! and so we take the subway to soho & they send us a picture of his car plate so we can look out for him in case he gets there earlier than they do but as it turns out the new york subway is reliable for once and they arrive before his car gets there so !!

anyway the longchamp staff were like yall can wait inside!! and so a good two thirds of them went to wait inside to get good pics but conno and i were like nah we don’t trust that shit so we stood outside in the slight drizzle

a good choice!! bc his car pulled up near the side entrance instead of the main entrance and since conno and i knew the car plate number we were like o shit that’s him and ran into position!!

he went in through a side door like really really fast and i think we were two of the few people who actually saw him enter / got pictures of him entering the building?? we waited a good two hours for this one moment zzzzz also he changed clothes in the car asdjhdaskjdhsa

and so we wait another two hours outside in the rain for him to come out and this time everyone was smart and nobody waited in the longchamp store so everyone poured out to wait for him and it was really really crowded + there were other bystanders who were like ?? who y’all waiting for??? and decided to wait and take pictures too even though they had no idea who lin yanjun was so it was Packed (there were even people waiting across the road just to get a glimpse of whoever we were waiting for) and i didn’t get photos zzzz

180909

so the night before conno and i are trying to catch up on homework when someone in the wechat group sends a picture of yanjun on the street and we were like !!!!! o myg od

bc 1) he looks hella good asdlhkfja 2) i’ve lived in housing for two years and both those years were spent in different dorms in zip code 10003 so if there are pictures of any celebrity in any part of 10003??? both conno and i are highly likely to be able to tell where they are

and so we immediately recognise the background of the picture as somewhere near one of my old dorms (i’m not gonna say where his hotel is ajsdhfkjd he’s still in new york at the time i’m posting this) and like ??? damn yalls longchamp really spending that dough on yanjun

i know i put the header of this section as 180909 but it’s a lie asdjhkjs i check the weather forecast and it says it’s going to rain all sunday and i’m just like :~) jk i’m not going out in new york rain even for mr lyj so uh that’s the end of my account asjkhkdsajd

(SPEAKING OF THE WEATHER!! it’s been raining every day since lin yanjun landed in new york and the temperature has been dipping lower every day kajsdlha and it’s apparently going to get warm tomorrow right when he leaves so uhhhhhh i’m not saying he’s causing the black clouds but that’s,,, also exactly what i’m saying)

(also bi wenjun just landed today and apparently the weather’s getting warmer from here until he leaves so coincidence that the weather’s getting nicer the moment weatherman boy wenjun arrives??? i think not)

anyway things i’ve learnt from this weekend:

fansites really work very hard to take photos - they spend so much money flying back and forth to get airport pictures + they spend so much !! energy !! running up and down and playing waiting games just to get a few good shots, please respect their photos and !! stop!!!!! editing !! without their permission!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

most of them also buy their photos - there were some fantakens uploaded to fansites that clearly weren’t taken by them (photos from inside the longchamp show when clearly nobody but the media was allowed in) so we knew that those fansites bought their photos from journalists + there were also more fansites releasing photos than people at the venue so some of them were 代拍s selling photos to fansites (not that there’s anything wrong with this, it’s just ?? interesting to have found this out i was wondering how some of them got their photos)

some fansites also have like 0 sense of privacy - at the longchamp spring street store they had cars prepared and running just waiting for him to leave so they could jump into the cars and follow him wherever (we’re still trying to work out who they are so we can stop supporting them on forjingyan ;;;;)

yanjun,,,, truly is one of the coldest idols asjdkldasjk our wechat group was talking about it and one of the jiejies in there (we were two of the youngest,,,, a first!!) has been following him around for the thx with love tours and she says she’s only seen him talk to fans one (1) time the whole time she’s followed him!! compared to another jiejie who usually follows 1k around and she says ziyi’s usually very gentle & always speaks to fans ;;;;; + how there are always pictures of zhangjing smiling or at least waving at the airport

(more of a self-reflection point) but i realise the type of idol i tend to bias is very much the kind to smile easily / the more warm ones that interact with fans (like honglin and ruibin) or at least acknowledge the fans that have been waiting for a period of time to meet them like ziyi and zhangjing!! (not that there’s anything wrong with being cold in case yall disgruntled diehard yanjun stans come at me lol) so really yanjun is really truly not my type akjsdfhlaksjd

but that’s it!! thank u for reading kjfkjasdhf

#lin yanjun #林彥俊 #yanjun #林彦俊 #nine percent #this is a long read yall #vivi yells into the void

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lizartgurl · 5 years

Text

"Back To You" (Aqualad x OC)

PART SIX

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (part five)

@flamebiirds @staar-sailorr @lesbianstargirl @super-spoiler @princes-jasmine @the-shadow-of-atlantis

Part Seven will actually be posted in a couple hours, just wanna give y’all a chance to digest this part

WARNING: Drugging and Attempted Kidnapping

Emma threw herself into the role of Mary Hyde to keep herself from thinking about how anxious she was about everything. She and Kaldur entered The Trading Post arm in arm that Saturday, and Emma was all smiles as she greeted Miiyahbin.

“You’re perkier than I thought you were, Miss Mary,” Miiyahbin observed as she approached with a tray of fruits.

“My apologies for introductions,” Emma said almost like a recitation, “I was very tired the other morning. There was a lot going on at work, and I wasn’t too certain if this whole “break from society” that my husband suggested would work.”

“Well, just see what just a week in Moose Factory has done for you!” Grandmother observed cheerfully. Her white braid was wrapped tightly around her head again, not a hair out of place, the only apparent difference in appearance was her sweater: red, yellow, and brown zig-zags.

Emma beamed her best press smile at the older woman, and Miiyahbin raised a brow in her direction. “Mary” and “Jackson” each took a fruit kabob.

“Glad you could make it,” She said, still trying to sound welcoming, “There’s plenty of food and drinks to go around, and you’re welcome to join the dance floor or just watch it.” Grandmother dashed off to greet the next group of party guests, and Miiyahbin left them to answer a group of girls waving for pineapple and cantaloupe.

Kaldur located two stools in the corner for them to sit and watch without gathering too much attention. He wore his nicest sweater over his only white t-shirt, and Emma wore the only dress she’d brought. It wasn’t as nice or expensive as the usual brands she had to tote out for appearances, but it was comfortable, and rather elegant-looking. They hadn’t been told of a dress code, but looking around at all the people squeezing into the Trading Post, there really didn’t seem to be a particular dress code. Some people were all gussied up like they were headed to a gala in Metropolis, while a couple people just wore a cleaner, not-smelly version of their work clothes. They were there to enjoy themselves, not to be judged. It must be nice to be expected to be a socialite everywhere you went.

“You’re trying too hard.” Kaldur whispered to Emma as the scattered partygoers chatted among themselves, sometimes yelling all the way across the ‘Post to greet one another. There was hardly a chance of being overheard through the music.

“Well, I have to make up for when you sprung this thing on me. Besides, you’re the one who wanted to come to this.”

“You wanted to, quote, “gather more intel” on the Martens and other locals.”

“I do not sound that much like Bruce.”

“That is what your brother said.”

“I will be honest,” Grandmother said, suddenly appearing out of the crowd, “I did not expect two young lovebirds such as yourselves to be back so soon.”

“Well, we couldn’t very well refuse your invitation to a party,” Emma said. Kaldur ate something sushi-looking before he could say something that would contradict her alibi. It was her turn to make it up now.

Grandmother smiled and shook her head, placing her hand over Emma’s. “True, but I can sense that both of you are going through quite the turmoil in your life together. I thought you might have used this time to spend alone together and talk.”

Emma tried not to freeze up. Grandmother was just like Dinah, she could see right through them.

“We did come here to spend some time together,” Emma lied through her teeth, “But if we're only around each other all day everyday then it gets harder to get through that turmoil.”

Grandmother smiled sadly. “Make sure that the two of you treasure your time together. Alright?” She patted Emma’s cheek, and headed off to another party guest who called out her name.

Emma couldn’t bring herself to look at Kaldur. Maybe it was a mistake to think that they could pull this off. They obviously couldn’t treasure their time together anymore.

“Would you care to dance?” Kaldur asked.

She tucked her hair behind her ear, feeling terribly out of place as she accepted Kaldur’s hand. He lead her onto the dance floor as the unfamiliar upbeat tune that had welcomed them to the ‘Post was replaced by a slow, romantic ballad that had already invited several other couples out onto the dance floor.

As more and more couples joined the dance floor, and some fathers goofing off with their daughters, Emma had to press closer to Kaldur to keep from being squished. This kind of dancing was so different from any grand galas, or any school dances that Gotham Academy ever hosted. The school had mandatory ballroom dance classes, for crying out loud!

It wasn’t so bad to be dancing with Kaldur, she decided at last. There were no paps taking pictures, people were definitely more interested in their significant others than in her, and there was no structure to whatever dance this was. She didn’t have to worry about missing any complicated steps, she just had to stay on her feet and look like she was in love, and that was easy when Kaldur wasn’t trying to talk to her. Just looking at her, with his dreamy, green-gray eyes. Her hand in his, and his arm around her back, holding her close. Keeping her safe. Wasn't she supposed to be the one doing that for him? Or maybe it was supposed to be the both of them doing it for each other. She had to remember that it wasn’t all on her. They could work this out together.

Kaldur gave her a nod, a signal she knew instantly. He let go with one arm, spinning her underneath the other to land back in his embrace. She laughed, not thinking whether to hold it in or not, and he smiled.

“I missed your smile, you know,” Emma said.

“What?” Kaldur asked for clarification. It hadn’t occurred to her that he could hear her over the music and the chatter.

“You should really smile more often. It looks good on you,” She said, a bit louder this time. She grinned easily up at the flush that vanished as soon as it reached his cheeks.

Oh no.

She was still in love with him.

After all that had happened, after all they had done to each other, she still loved him.

The song ended almost abruptly after that, suddenly leaving the two frozen, still in a proper dance position as everyone else around them melted back into freestyle dancing.

Emma let go as if they’d shocked each other. “I’ll go...get us some drinks,” She said quickly, under the cover of the live music: guitar, soft drums, and an assortment of wooden indigenous instrument that Emma didn’t recognize.

She wove through the swaying crowd, amidst laughter and joking that made her feel even worse for being a downer. It finally spit her out at the bar, where a few other people were drinking and chatting.

“Benjamin, that’s your third drink tonight,” Miiyahbin was telling a giggly older man with a kind yet patient smile.

“Only my third, Miss Miiyah!” He told her, “‘Member tonight’s for celebratin’!” He continued to ramble in French, spinning around on his stool as he raised his glass to toast a young couple as they passed by.

Miiyahbin shook her head as Emma approached.

“Anyone giving you any trouble?” “Mary” asked.

Miiyahbin shook her head. “Don’t mind Benny, he just likes to have a good time. And the only time he can actually get the courage to flirt with his wife is when he’s drunk,” She nodded to a group of older women who fell into fits of laughter whenever Benny whistled in their direction. Grandmother was one of them, patting the back of another older woman in a beautiful sky blue dress who blushed with a huge smile at every kiss Benny blew towards her.

“Can I help you?” Emma didn’t realize that she’d been staring at the interaction between the lovesick older couple until Miiyahbin touched her shoulder gently.

“Uh, actually, yeah. Can I get a Sprite for myself and a Cherry Coke for Jackson? It’s his favorite.”

“Coming right up,” Miiyahbin grabbed two bottles from beneath the counter and replaced Benny’s drink with a tall glass of water as he was composing a love ballad for his wife in three languages at once.

“So do you spend the whole party serving everyone else?” Mary asked.

“Mostly, yeah. I enjoy just being able to be a part of the party, and it’s not nearly as professional as some parties my grandparents took me too. At least I can be casual with everyone. Anyway, Granma and I are the hosts. We invite everyone to these parties because we enjoy it.” Miiyahbin shrugged. She slid the bowl of peanuts down the counter from where two other girls had abandoned their drinks for the dance floor, and tossed a few in her mouth. The only other people lounging at the bar were a couple friends, glancing in Emma and Miiyahbin’s direction ever so often.

“That’s actually quite honorable,” Mary took a long sip of her drink as she looked around for Kaldur, trying to remember where she’d left him. There he was, on the other side of the room, surrounded by several young men and women, who were laughing and talking with him. Kaldur was shaking their hands and smiling at them all, even kissed a couple hands, making everyone swoon.

Emma turned miserably back to her Sprite, and took another long gulp to make her throat and nose burn.

“Mary?” Miiyahbin asked slowly, “Is everything okay between you and Jackson?” She glanced the way Emma had, then quickly back.

“No,” Emma said abruptly, “But then again, that’s what we came out here for.”

Miiyahbin nodded slowly, processing that. “Okay, wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” Emma snapped.

“Alright then,” Miiyahbin huffed, and moved on to get sodas for a few teenagers that were probably trying to hide from their parents. Mary Hyde clearly had a few more secrets than Miiyahbin had first thought.

As Emma watched her go, she refused to feel guilty for snapping at Miiyahbin. She was only trying to help, but Emma wasn’t there to make friends. Her first and only priority was making sure that Kaldur was safe.

“You okay?” a new voice asked, though they couldn’t sound less interested in Emma or her problems.

“I’m fine,” She said, taking a long sip of her drink. She nearly spat it back out. She was one hundred percent certain that her Sprite had not been that salty two minutes ago, and that sodas did not get that salty as they got flatter.

“You don’t look so good,” Another voice said as she coughed on a combination of salt and carbonation. A pale white hand gripped her upper arm, helping her stand upright.

“I’ll be fine, just let me get to my husband-” She coughed again and tried to stand up, trying to slap away the hand like a fly stands up to the swatter.

“Where is he?” The first voice asked. He pulled her arm over his shoulder, and started to lead her along the shadows against the wall.

“Over in the corner,” Emma slurred, pointing in the direction she thought was the corner she had seen Kaldur with his new friends.

She blinked to clear the film from her eyes, but that just made it worse. A second later her face was blasted with the cold of the outside. She tried to struggle against their hold, but her limbs wouldn’t respond. They had drugged her, but how did it take effect so quickly?

“Kaldur,” She murmured, making out the shape of a large white van.

“Mary!” That wasn’t Kaldur, that was Miiyahbin.

“MARY!” There, that was Kaldur, much more panicked.

Emma’s would-be captors dropped her, face-first into the snow. The van’s engine roared, half-covering her with a mix of snow and mud.

She felt tghe snow shoved off her, as cleanly as throwing off a blanket, and Kaldur was holding her in her arms, safe and strong.

“Kaldur,” She whispered, using the last of her strength to clutch his sweater in her fist.

“It’s alright, Emma,” Kaldur whispered as the crowd of partygoers swarmed outside, calling on the sheriff to chase after the criminals.

“You’re going to be alright,” He promised.

And she believed him.

#lizart writes #bty aquafire fic #kaldur'ahm #kaldur #aqualad #fish boy #kaldur imagine #aqualad x oc #kaldur x oc #young justice oc #my oc #nightingale

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severelybabykryptonite · 6 years

Photo

The Picnic by SBK

A/N: 4th and final installment for the Richonnefics’ Date Night Series; a Speed Dating sequel.

Rick tries his best to contain his excitement but is failing miserably as the smile spreads across his face at the mere thought of spending more time with Michonne. They’d been out on three dates excluding the first night they’d met but they haven’t had the chance to be alone. Sasha and Daryl always manage to fandangle their way in resulting in a double date each time. Michonne had finally made up her mind that they should have their very own date and told him to leave it all to her.

Saturday morning wasn’t what he had in mind but he cleared his schedule and made arrangements for Carl to spend the day with his parents. He walks into his bedroom once again and checks his appearance. All she told him was to prepare to spend some time outside. He donned a nice but casual dark blue t-shirt, jeans, and his boots. He reached for an old cowboy hat but quickly tossed it aside, running his fingers through his hair and smoothing down his eyebrows.

She insisted on picking him up which he wasn’t used to at all. Is this how women do things nowadays? Are the roles reversed? He tries not to think on it too hard but doesn’t want to appear out of touch or too old fashioned. What if that’s a turn off for her? He recalls their dates and she didn’t seem to mind when he held the door for her or made sure she was seated first. He gives himself a mental shake, realizing that he is overthinking it all. He takes a deep breath and reminds himself to just enjoy the time with her.

The doorbell chimes and he is moving hurriedly to the living area only to pull up short seconds before opening the door. He composes himself quickly and opens the door with a small smile. She looks up with those beautiful brown eyes and smiles right back.

“Hey,” she offers.

“Hey.” He steps back and gestures for her to come in, watching closely as she walks past him in a clingy purple sundress. He breathes in her scent and ensures that his eyes are on hers once she faces him. “How’ve you been?”

“Great. You?” She looks around curiously, loving the color scheme and openness of his foyer which leads into an even more impressive living area. She remembers the box in her hand and holds it out to him. “This is for you. A little housewarming gift. I remembered you said you just bought this place. It looks great by the way.”

He appears a bit taken aback by her generosity. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s fine. I wanted to. I hope you like it.” She smiles as he accepts the box from her, touching her hand deliberately in the exchange.

“Mind if I open it?”

“Not at all.”

They move into the living area and sit on the sofa as he places the box on the coffee table, noticing the heaviness of the wooden container. He unfastens the metal clasp and opens it to find a glass tumbler set embossed with the initial ‘G’.

“Wow!” He gasps. “This is nice.”

Michonne swallows nervously, wondering for the 100th time if the gift was overstepping or overstating. She just wanted to make a nice gesture and she thought a housewarming gift would be harmless. Maybe it’s not. “I just….well friends celebrate friends and purchasing a house is a great achievement and I thought….a gift would be appropriate. Congratulations on your new house.”

“That was awfully kind of you. I’m a little speechless right now.”

“Well I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or overstep my bounds.” She watches as he closes the box and turns toward her. The look in his eyes is one of awe, sincerity, and longing all melded together. If she thought her heart was racing before, it just kicked into overdrive.

His heart rate is out racing hers as he allows his eyes to devour her. He can’t recall anyone being this generous towards him and especially not after knowing him for such a short time. “Thank you.”

“Oh it was nothing.”

He sits the box on the table in front of him, places a hand on the back of the sofa and leans toward her. “Can I thank you properly?” His eyes drop to her full red shaded lips and his mouth starts to water at the thought of finally getting a chance to kiss her.

Michonne absently allows her keys and cell phone to fall to the area rug below as she turns her body towards his. Her eyes search his before dropping to his slightly parted lips. She has thought about kissing him ever since she met him.

He watches her as she watches him move closer and touch his mouth to hers softly, gently. He closes his eyes and presses in deeper, capturing her lips with an instinctual moan.

She reaches up to cup his cheek, loving the roughness of what she assumes is a day without shaving. She wants to let him lead but finds herself opening her mouth and touching her tongue against his lips. He latches on and opens up so they can taste each other fully.

Seconds later, he is clearing his throat and rolling his shoulders, trying to gain control of his body. “I uh….would you like to see the rest of the house?”

Michonne pauses, wondering if this is code for something more. She gives him a questioning look and he picks up on it immediately.

He lets out a small laugh. “I just want to show you the house. That’s all. Really.”

Her first reaction is disappointment but she quickly masks it and agrees. For the next several minutes, he walks her through his home and they are both careful not to touch or stare at each other for too long. That kiss proved the undeniable attraction between them and neither wanted things to go too far too fast.

They end the tour standing on his patio overlooking his backyard.

“This is really nice Rick. Spacious and peaceful and it’s just you and your son?”

“Yep. Just the two of us. I wanted Carl to have a home just as nice as before the divorce. I found out apartment living is just not the thang for us,” Rick explains.

Michonne smiles, realizing that was one of the reasons she chose to buy a house for her and Andre. Of course he spends the weekends with his dad and the house seems awfully empty when she’s alone but she wouldn’t trade it. They are happy despite the fact that their lives changed with the divorce. “It’s amazing how much your life mirrors mine. I’d like to invite you and Carl over for dinner soon. Well, if that’s ok with you.” She pauses. “Maybe we shouldn’t meet the kids just yet.”

Rick smiles at her uncertainty, actually delighting in the fact that this well put together female gets a little shy and unsure around him. “I think that’s a fine idea. I’ll look forward to it.”

Michonne can’t express how his simple words bring her such comfort and ease. She also can’t help wondering where he has been all this time. “Well…..are you ready?”

“Let’s go.”

He climbs into the passenger’s side of the luxurious sedan and enjoys the ride as she pulls away from the curb and takes them out of his neighborhood and onto the nearby highway.

Almost forty-five minutes later, they are driving down a dirt road surrounded by nothing but land and trees on either side. He wasn’t sure what their destination was but he liked the obscurity of this location already.

He gives her a look and she smiles, knowing exactly what he wanted to ask.

“We’re almost there. I promise.”

She smiles as the serene view of the expansive lake surrounded by nothing but greenery comes into sight and is thankful Maggie’s family takes such good care of their land. She remembers coming here as a kid and for some odd reason, she wanted to share this special place with Rick. She slows down considerably and drives onto the grass to get them closer to the water.

“Wow! This place is beautiful.”

“It really is. I’ve been coming here since I was a kid and I thought this would be a nice back drop for a picnic,” she shares.

“So this is your land?”

“Oh no. One of my best friend’s family owns this place. They’ve had it for years, passing it down from generation to generation. This is basically my second home.” She breathes a sigh of contentment and pops the trunk as she exits the car.

He follows and helps her unload the supplies. They work together seamlessly spreading out the checkered blanket and unpacking the basket. His stomach growls at the sight of all the food she brought.

“I’m starving. I kinda skipped breakfast coz I was so excited about today,” he admits.

She laughs. “Me too. Good thing I packed plenty.”

They pounce on the food enthusiastically, talking and enjoying each other’s company. Afterwards, they walk around the lake, tossing rocks and sticks into the water.

“So did y’all ever swim here?”

“All the time when we were kids. I haven’t done that in ages though,” she answers.

“Well how about today? The weather’s nice….” He shields his eyes from the sun with a hand, looking all around. “…..no one’s around.”

She scoffs with a slight giggle. “You can’t be serious.”

He reaches down, lifting a knee, and pulls one boot off and then the other.

“Rick…..we don’t have suits. We…..”

“And we don’t need ‘em,” he states as he lifts his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side.

She holds in a gasp as her eyes connect with his solid wall of a chest and flat abs. “We are not doing this.”

“What’s the matter? You afraid?” He teases.

“I’m not afraid of anything,” she retorts. Except you.

“Well in that case……I dare you.” He smiles as those luscious lips of hers drop open with surprise. He remembers Sasha saying her friend never backs down from a dare.

He watches as her eyes take on a determined glint and she kicks off her sandals before pulling her dress over her head to reveal a lacy strapless bra and matching panties underneath. He wastes no time in getting the rest of his clothes off, standing before her in a pair of boxers.

She puts her hands on her hips and says, “I guess you wanna race now too?”

“Naw. That wouldn’t be fair,” he returns.

“And how is that?”

“Coz I’m just gonna beat you anyway.”

They both take off at a sprint, laughing as they race neck and neck. The splash they make breaks the quiet serenity surrounding them as they both resurface, gasping with the unexpected coolness of the water.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

“I didn’t talk you into anythang. You’re the one who can’t back down from a dare,” he reminds her.

She rolls her eyes heavenward. “One of my many flaws.”

“You’re flawless.”

The atmosphere changes slightly as he looks at her with admiration and longing. She recognizes it immediately and knows her expression mirrors his.

She reaches forward and brushes a pesky insect off his shoulder but doesn’t pull her hand away. She likes the warmth, the firmness of his skin. She gasps when she feels an arm encircle her waist and finds herself flush against him.

“I wanna kiss you again.”

She doesn’t answer just slowly but surely places her lips on his, pressing in bit by bit until he responds, opening his mouth to allow her inside. Moments later, they are breathless and holding each other tightly.

“I don’t think we’ll get to the horseback riding today,” she informs.

He gives a small laugh. “We’ll save it for next time.”

She pulls away to look into his eyes. “Next time?”

He nods. “Yeah. We’re here together now and I’m already looking forward to the next date and the one after that and the one after that.” He smiles. “You’re having that effect on me.”

“Well I hope that’s a good thing.”

“Oh it is. It’s a very good thang.”

She kisses him one last time before challenging him to a race. Any more time spent in his arms would result in them getting naked and having sex in the lake. She muses that it’s not a bad idea but for some reason she believes this one is a keeper and she doesn’t want to rush it.

He accepts her challenge, conflicted because he knows they shouldn’t take it too far but wouldn’t mind if they did. He looks over at her as they swim further out and knows without a doubt that she is someone he could be with for a very long time.

You can read the prequel, Speed Dating, here:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11445160/52/Richonne-Ficlets-by-SBK

#Date Night Series #Rendezvous #Richonne #fanfiction #SBK #The Picnic #Richonnefics #November

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beheadingofmakai · 6 years

Text

‘That’

A mutually self-indulgent gift for my friend, @moogiorin, fellow acolyte of similar tastes and appropriate standards, as congratulations for finishing his move. Based on a conversation we had regarding this and this. 2,396 words.

Sealing order, inspection slip, haunted house negotiation, public event security detail, another sealing order, and three different XCG-747-6 pink and yellows that need to be filled and filed before the day ends. Your job’s never been easy, but most of the time, it’s out there, in the field, in the streets, where things are happening, where your wits and calm discipline are needed to make quick decisions, not behind a desk, swamped under an interminable monolith of paperwork and stamps. You feel that if your wrist had hands of its own, its own wrists would be as tired as yours is from strangling you for putting it under this sort of labor. Six and a half hours, and you haven’t stopped for one second, sans the seventeen seconds it took you to produce a new piece of chewing gum from your drawer. Your job’s never been easy, but you were unlucky enough to be assigned as “the paperwork slave” this period, and it couldn’t be a more dull task if it tried. You’ve seen molasses slowly crawling down a wall more extreme than any of this. Slugs moving might as well be Formula 1 if put next to what you’ve been doing these last three days.

Quite frankly, and to summarize all of this in one line instead of trying to give more lyricism and tears than it needs: It Sucks.

But you’ve never been one to complain. Oh no, your pencil, this boredom be damned, carves a trail of graphite through these forms. You can’t be stopped. You can’t be contained. You are the Bureaucracy Behemoth, the beginning of a legend that will be remembered in Headquarters for years to come! Or so you thought yesterday, but you are really, really biffed right now. You have come to a halt, a piddling speed that is equivalent to half of a grandma’s scooter. You can’t take this anymore.

And someone else in the room has noticed this.

“You’ve been awfully slow today, Chief. What happened to that bravado? That enthusiasm? Those promises of victory and triumph? It’s not like you to get battered by such lesser foes.”

Ah, crap. Just what you needed. Her.

You make a thumbs up and a hand gesture that would mean nothing to anyone except her, but she knows it stands for “no problem”. Her response comes in the form of a sweet, mocking chuckle that doesn’t believe either of your gestures, flustering you just a bit. You tell her it’s fine, you’ve been at it for three days now, there’s a lot of work left, but it’s certainly less than it was two days ago, you got it. Her response comes in the form of a sweeter, even more mocking chuckle, punctuated with an “uh-huh.” that makes you wanna turn, face her, and make a bet with her, as you always do. You know that the incentive of a bet would really help right now. You wouldn’t mind seeing her eat her words and, most importantly, her chuckles. It’s been that way with you both ever since the Academy days. But you can’t do that. You simply cannot do that today. You cannot face her, not today of all days.

Because she’s wearing that.

She’d only been on the corner of your eye, and you immediately averted your sight. You could tell instantly that it was that, and you simply didn’t dare look at her directly. “It could just have been something similar”, you entertained, but every time she moved, in this closed, not too big room, you heard its rubbery stretching and contracting, subtle yet impossibly loud to you, as her legs moved. You could hear how tight that was around her abundant thighs with each step she took, pressing against those soft, pale, bountiful legs. Oh, she was doing work, alright, walking from cabinet to cabinet, from drawer to drawer, but it was always in a circle around you. If you weren’t any wiser, you’d think this is just a coincidence, but you know better, you know this is entirely deliberate, a conscious patterns she knows drives you nuts, because you and her know one important, quintessential, key fact:

She holds your weaknesses. By the lord, she knows every single one of them to heart.

This wasn’t a workplace, this was a predator taunting her prey, a mental domination that crushed your every thought easily and trivially.

She always held that power over you.

You cough and mention something about a dress code. “You know we don’t have a dress code.” she whimsically replies with naught but the truth as she intentionally takes a long step, the rubbery spandex making those accursed sounds even more pronounced as it stretches against her thighs. Your office has always been hyper efficient thanks to you two, and one of the perks this has given you is that Headquarters doesn’t waste your time with surprise inspections. This means that, yes, she can wear that and it’s perfectly fine. It’s an ambivalent feeling, knowing you’ve done well enough to get this special treatment, yet knowing, at the same time, that this is the very reason as to why you were being tortured this way right now. A torture that felt asphyxiating, and yet, one that you wouldn’t trade for anything in the world, emotions that brought by yet another feeling of ambivalence by themselves. Just thinking about this puts you in a weird and flustered mood, so you simply chew your gum faster and harder to try and distract yourself.

“You seem really tired, Chief. Your pencil stopped moving a couple of minutes ago. Perhaps you are focused on something else?” she says with a tinge of knowing mockery in her voice, her face sporting a smug expression that you couldn’t see, but knew for sure it was there. The rubbery sound approaches you with each step, much to your horror, until you can feel her presence right next to you. Notably, and regrettably, right next to your face, just outside of your peripheral vision, you know that is there. So, so very close to your face. You can feel the warmth from her thighs and her characteristically sweet and intoxicating scent strongly. “Hm? No response? You won’t even look at me, huh~? That’s kinda rude, Chief, even if it’s you. I don’t think I can let you get away with that.”

Now, based on your experiences and your knowledge of your years-long partner, there’s two outcomes to what she just said: Option one is that she just stands there for a while, very close to you, knowing the exertion and pressure this puts on you, overwhelming you with her presence and scent until she’s satisfied mentally dominating you like this with a knowing grin on her face, fully aware that you are powerless against her. Option two, less likely but far more lethal and thus it can’t be ruled out, is that she does The Forbidden Maneuver. The FM, as you call it, is a special technique she doesn’t do all too often, which only helps make it even more devastating when she actually does perform it, and it consists on, simply put, sitting on your lap unannounced and making herself comfortable, nuzzling against your body with hers until she is fully content. Of course, she never is fully content, so it involves a lot of rubbing, pressing, and shifting, which usually spells doom for your attention and more so for whatever task it is you’re trying to accomplish. This she-devil knows the destructive power of this maneuver, so it is only for special occasions, such as when you win a bet against her and she’s feeling a bit rancorous about it. Either way, you brace yourself for either and then it turns out you were wrong and didn’t consider option three.

She sits on your lap, alright, but she doesn’t sit normally, no sir, she sits facing you. If there’s anything that can be described as simultaneously shameless and graceful in this world, that is definitely the way in which she is currently pressing her whole body against yours, chest to chest, crotch to crotch, and forehead to forehead. Her arms are lazily slung over your shoulders, and most alarmingly, her lips are pressed against yours. It’s not a kiss, they are ‘simply’ pressed together, her cocky smile and your overstimulated grimace, touching. She nuzzles and cuddles a bit, trying to find a more comfortable posture, still plastered fully against you, your eyes invaded by her vermilion own, your thoughts occupied entirely by her scent and warmth. “Well?” she whispers in a minuscule voice, lips rubbing. “Can you focus now?”. This makes you accidentally swallow your chewing gum.

You avert your eyes, but she follows them. You press yourself back against your chair to minimize bodily contact, but she counters by pressing harder and fully. The back of your chair might as well be the wall against which this predator has you cornered against, with zero possibility of you escaping her. Her scent is intoxicating, her soft and abundant thighs pressed against you, the rubbery sounds of latex from her biking shorts, which you can no longer afford to not acknowledge, as well as the shuffling sound of your clothes rubbing together has sent your mind into DEFCON 1, red alert, maximum danger, what have you. Her arms fully circle around your neck and press your faces softly but boldly, and she does the same with her legs around your waist, a demure expression on her face replacing the smug mask she had seconds prior. “Hey...” she whispers, but you don’t answer, trying to move your pencil hand to try to pretend you’re still working, that this isn’t assaulting every single one of your senses, “try” being the key word here, because it tricks neither of you. “Hey...” she whispers again, a bit higher, her hips rocking back and forth to a slow, pacific, agonizing rhythm. You can feel your composure, or whatever facsimile of a composure you like to believe you are tricking her with, melting. Things that aren’t her are starting to, quite frankly, not matter in the slightest, and if it’s the office, well, so be it, you are cornered this badly by the Forbidden Maneuver 2, might as well just admit defeat and indulge in this feast of the flesh. You drop the pencil, close your eyes, and wrap your arms around her curvaceous body, ready to return the favor, when you realize you didn’t catch a thing between your arms. She was gone. Her scent, warmth, and her lovely curves feel as if they were imprinted in your body, in your mind, and you can clearly feel her body still, even though she’s not there.

“...Pff! You were actually going to, huh? It’s my win, then!” her voice comes from behind your chair. She was always really flexible and agile, so it doesn’t surprise you at all that she managed to pull off a escape like that. “That’s no good, Chief.”

Your embarrassment cannot be put into words with any human language. You really were gonna do that. You really had surrendered to your desires like that... But then again, who couldn’t, when confronted with such titanic and overwhelming seduction from the person you trust the most in your life? From the person that not only holds your weakness, but that has also had your back since you were greenhorns? That has walked the walk with you since the days you both were inexperienced and foolish? That has contributed to both of your mutual successes as much as she has? Well, those are excuses, this is still the office, and even though there’s no dress code, there IS a conduct code: Your own morality. You sigh somewhat dejectedly, disappointed in yourself, when she repeats those words. “That’s no good, Chief. You really are exhausted. If you weren’t, you would’ve noticed I moved out of the way. Hell, you would’ve caught me. As your second-in-command, I forbid you from working anymore right now.”

Your eyes spring at her, and you can tell she means it. This is no mockery, no taunting, no playing around. She truly is concerned for you. “I’m not going to try and convince someone as stubbornly dutiful as you to just not do that frankly ridiculous amount of work, but I am asking you, not as your second-in-command, but as your friend, to put the pencil down and take a nap. You’ve not slept well at all the last few days, have you? Well, get to that! Come here.”

You try to argue, but she does have a point, and you can’t turn down a personal request from her, even if you really need to keep working. She locks the door and then sits on the sofa, waving for you to come close. As you sit next to her, she pats her thighs lightly twice. “Now come and sleep.” The implication is clear as water, and you give her that “what in the Two Worlds are you suggesting” look you give her when she makes a ridiculous demand, but she doesn’t budge. It’s not the dominating smirk that faces you right now, nor is it the playfully mocking chuckles. It’s a sincere, warm smile that could melt icebergs, affection mixed with genuine concern for someone important to her, an invitation not to a battle of wills, but a sincere lap pillow she’s offering to a certain someone that has truly worried her from his overworking. You sigh and resign yourself, again, to play by her rules. She has a way of making you do that.

As your head lays on her soft thighs, you feel your eyes become heavy, not helped by her fingers that run through your hair, gentle, caring, loving. Her other hand holds your own, and you can hear a few faint, almost inaudible “thanks for always working hard.” You’re not sure if that was your imagination or her, and you don’t have much time to think about it before you fall asleep on your pillow of soft thighs and latex biking shorts, involuntarily nuzzling on it to find a comfortable position as she keeps playing with your hair.

It’s just another day in your office, where you do a job you love alongside your favorite person in the world. Filling out a couple of XCG-747-6 pink and yellows doesn’t feel daunting anymore.

#moogiorin #code:that #length:short #format:special

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telltale-grapefruit · 6 years

Text

The List (Gabentine Fan Fiction)

Summary: Gabe and Clem hang out for the first time alone. This is part 1 if you guys want more. Let me know.

Setting: A few months after Clementine comes back with AJ.

Praise or critiques are verrry welcome here!

Gabe sat on the ratty couch, twisting a piece of paper between his fingers. His foot, resting on the coffee table in front of him, tapped along to the rock music thumping in his ears. Well, technically it was one ear. The earbuds were broken on one side, but the CD Player he’d traded for a year ago worked perfectly. In his open ear, Gabe heard three taps at the door followed by a delayed forth one, their knocking code for each other. Gabe shot up and the CD player flew off his leg and onto the floor. He flinched, but decided to focus on his guest first. “Hold on,” Gabe called out. He practically ran over to the mirror in his bathroom. A few hairs stuck out of place and he smoothed them down. He cleared his throat and looked over his clothes for any stains or wrinkles he’d missed on his button-up and jeans. When Gabe got over to the door, he swung it open a bit too eagerly. Clem stood there with a brow raised at Gabe’s apparent excitement. Today was an important one. It was the first time Clem would come over without Javi home or AJ in tow. She had her hair tied up, though most strands hung around her face, too short to reach the attempted bun. She wore men’s cargo pants and a tank top since it was still hot outside. After the two surveyed each other’s appearance, Clem was the first to speak.

“You gonna let me in?”

Gabe shook his head. “Yeah. Yeah, Come in.” He took a deep breath once she passed through the doorway. He had to get a grip. They’d spent time alone together before but there was something different about doing it on purpose. This meeting had been planned a week ago and that thought was already enough to psych him out. Gabe watched as Clem plopped down on the couch, setting her feet where Gabe’s had just been. How was she so cool about everything? Gabe suddenly felt stupid for dressing like he was on a date or something. It wasn’t a date. Just two friends hanging out. Usually by now they’d be quizzing each other on their weeks and telling funny stories or jokes that they’d heard. Clem seemed perfectly fine with the silence and Gabe realized she’d been studying the fallen CD player. It lay on the floor with the front skinny part hanging off by its edge.

“Oh, shit,” Gabe cursed as he walked over to inspect the damage. The rounded plastic part stayed connected when he lifted it so that was a good sign. Right? He wiggled it, unsure of its purpose.

“Let me see?” Clem leaned forward, holding her hand out. Gabe took the opportunity to sit next to her, giving Clem the device. She opened it, spun the CD, closed it back, and put a earbud to her ear. “No sound. I think it’s broken.”

His mouth dropped open. “What? Are you kid-” Gabe started, but Clem began laughing.

“Gotcha, Dork.”

“Ha, ha,” Gabe said when the panic subsided. That music was one of the only things that kept him sane. He reached for the player and Clem leaned away, holding it behind herself. He lunged for it and she moved the device again, out of Gabe’s reach. Gabe knew what to do in these situations but he wasn’t sure what would happen to his CD player if he wasn’t careful. With no more time for thought, he brought a hand to Clem’s side, tickling her until her arms came down to block the attack. She yelped and, with his other hand, Gabe grabbed the CD player and squished it into the side of the couch so Clem wouldn’t go for it again. They both laughed for a moment until smiling silently together.

“If AJ were here he wouldn’t’ve let you do that,” Clem warned.

“Where is he anyway?”

Her voice was back to the usual slow monotone that told him she was thinking. “At Martha’s.” Gabe waited, not completely understanding why AJ was there. Martha was in charge of planning meals for the community and helped with food rationing. “She’s trying to start a school since people are, you know, having kids now.” Clem shrugged.

“But you never let anyone watch him.” That’s why Clem rarely went out on supply runs or guarded the walls. It was like leaving AJ with other people, for even a second, was inviting death.“Except for Javi and me,” Gabe added as an afterthought.

“Well I didn’t just leave him. I’ve been watching her with the other kids and she’s pretty good at getting AJ to talk.”

“Okay.” Gabe heard the twinge of defensiveness in her voice and decided to change the subject. “So, where’d you get those pants from?” The baggy, khaki pants were held up by a tight belt and were rolled up so Clem couldn’t step on the hems.

Clem seemed to hesitate. “My patrol partner got them for me. He had an extra pair at his station.”

“Oh.” So she finally got to guard the wall again. That explained her skin. It was a golden brown today as opposed to the usual light tan color from her hours outside. The question of why the guy gave her his pants hung in the air until Gabe finally bit. “Why did you need new pants?”

Clem sighed, looking away from Gabe for a moment. “I got a stain on them, okay?”

Gabe watched Clem look back at him and widen her eyes for a second, like she was trying to communicate something. “So?” Gabe asked, not following. She looked down and he felt a tightness in his chest when he realized Clem didn’t want to say. Why would a stupid stain require her to wear another guy’s pants? Gabe had heard some people brag about getting into someone’s pants once and he wondered if that was what it meant. Did that mean Clem was going to brag about it to him? The idea of it wasn’t fun to think about.

She sighed again, louder this time. “I ran out of pads this morning so I used some tissue but I guess it wasn’t enough and-”

“Got it. I got it.” Gabe raised his hands as he spoke as if to block the words.

“It’s gross for me too,” Clem said as she leaned back onto the couch, putting her feet up again.

Gabe looked down at the cushion she sat on. “Are you, uh, okay now?”

“Yes, you dork.” She followed his gaze, then gave a half-smile. “Relax. I won't mess up your precious cushions.”

“I didn’t think-”

“Can we stop talking about it? It’s weird.” Gabe snorted and put his feet up, leaning back next to her. The second his shoulder touched hers, though, Clem tensed. Nothing in her expression said she was uncomfortable, but Gabe took the signal and shifted away slightly.

“Wanna play cards?” He suggested.

“Sounds good.” Clem stood and went to Gabe’s room, only to return a few seconds later with the bent and stained stack. They sat on either ends of the couch and separated the cards on the center cushion. Once the game began, Gabe went into competitive mode. No way he’d lose.

After a few turns, he had trouble hiding his smile of victory. “Wait. No!” Gabe exclaimed when Clem threw down the card that destroyed his strategy.

“Thought you had that one, didn’t you?” Clem said, amusement curving her lips.

Gabe shook his head. “That was just one round. I was going easy on you.”

“Sure.”

They played a few more rounds, cries of defeat and victory filling the room, when Gabe asked a question. “So how was the guard shift? You haven’t done that since-” He paused, thinking. “How long has it been?”

Clem took a card from the deck. “I don’t know. Winter I guess.”

“Yeah. Guess so.”

Gabe played an jack and Clem countered it with a better card. “Ha.”

“How was it?”

“What?” Clem had her eyes glued to her cards.

“Guarding again.”

“Is this a trick to distract me?” She glanced up.

“No. Just wondering.”

“It was fine.”

“Just fine?” Gabe pulled from the deck.

Clem let her cards rest in her lap as she seemed to think. “Let’s see. It was hot. It was boring. And everyone saw me bleed all over myself.” Her voice was filled with a mock cheer that broke Gabe’s poker face. “What about you?” Clem lifted her cards again and played a nine.

Over the past few months, Gabe had worked with Eleanor in the medical center. It was the first job where he actually felt useful and needed. The hours were strange with injured people coming at any time of day, and the work was hard, but Gabe was never bored with it. “We got some nice first aid stuff from the last supply run so we don’t have to ration as much. I got to help with removing a bullet too.”

“At least your day had something. I wish a horde would attack us to make things more interesting.” Gabe stared at her, unsure how to take that. “A small one. Not a real threat. All we get are stragglers these days,” Clem added when she saw Gabe's brows draw together.

“That’s still weird to say, but I think I get it.”

There wasn’t much to say after that so they continued playing. Clem won the first game and Gabe came back with a vengeance in the second.

“Ready to break the tie?” Gabe asked while shuffling the cards again.

She stood, leaving her cards on the couch. “I should probably head back. AJ might need me.”

“You don’t want to, um, eat or something?”

“I ate before I got here.”

Gabe searched through his mind for some way to get her to stay. “What’s wrong?”

Clem shrugged. “Nothing.” Gabe watched her, trying to find some clue for what she really meant. Was she bored? Afraid for AJ? Did she stop liking him? As a few moments of silence passed, Clem finally gave in. “I don’t know. You keep looking at me weird.”

Gabe drew his brows together. “I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Okay? Well I’m sorry then.”

“Ugh. It’s just,” Clem sat back down and crossed her arms. “Nothing happens here anymore. It feels fake, like everyone’s pretending or something. I thought guarding the wall would be different, you know?” She breathed out, letting her shoulders relax.

Gabe hesitated. He didn’t really get what Clem meant but he wanted her to keep talking. “Yeah.”

“I miss being out there.”

“Out there? You mean..”

She looked away. “I mean out. When I was out to get AJ just by myself, surviving. It was better. Staying in one place feels.. so wrong.”

“Without AJ?” Clem stared hard at Gabe, then seemed to make a decision, nodding to herself.

“Before Kenny died, he would watch AJ most of the time. I would rotate between towns, picking up things to trade and sometimes they’d come with me. It kept us comfortable and I didn’t have to worry about AJ’s safety because Kenny had him. But, when David took him away, I couldn’t ignore the fact that everything was easier. I know I’m a terrible person for feeling that way.”

“You’re not a terrible person. You were just..put into an impossible situation.”

She stared absently. “It was just so hard. You can’t protect yourself when you’re holding a kid. I almost got him killed so many times and he couldn’t even speak to tell me if he was scared or if I was doing a good job. Then I spent the next year looking for him and dealing with the deaths and not knowing anything, and then I met you and Javi.” Gabe nodded and listened as Clem continued talking.

“And I had this perfect idea of what life would be like when I finally found him and we were all together in this safe place. But, just the thought of letting anyone hold him was terrifying, like they’d take him away again, and I know that makes no sense, but I couldn’t let anyone have him. It took my life away, or not my life, but my freedom? I don’t know. I couldn’t go anywhere without him. I couldn’t risk it. Then today I tried to guard the wall and, when I wasn’t worrying about AJ, I was looking for something exciting, like before. Honestly, this has been the most exciting part of my day.”

Gabe tried not to smile at that part. “Mine too.”

Clem blinked a few times, seeming to come back to the present. A corner of her mouth lifted slightly when she looked at him with her amber colored eyes. She looked beautiful smiling like that.

“You’re doing it again,” she sighed, leaning back on the couch.

“Doing what?”

She waited, maybe to see if Gabe was playing dumb or something. “Just being your dorky self I guess.” Clem suddenly slapped her knee and stood up and the action made Gabe snort. “Get up. Let’s go somewhere.”

Gabe stood slower than she had. “Okay. Where do you want to go?”

“To face another fear.”

“That’s not a place,” Gabe joked.

“Go change. It’s too hot for that.” Clem pointed at his shirt and Gabe glanced out the window. It was late in the afternoon so the heat wouldn’t stick around for much longer. He moved towards the door, rolling up his sleeves. Gabe usually did whatever Clem said so her confusion when he walked the wrong way was fun to watch. “What? I changed the shirt, technically.” She rolled her eyes and Gabe opened the door before she could get to it. “After you.”

“You’re a dork, you know that?” Clem asked, walking through.

“Yup,” Gabe said following behind.

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materialgirlsfanfic · 6 years

Text

CHAPTER 10 - Affordable Prices To Pay...(Pt. 2)

KADEN

“She dealin’ with some issues that you can’t believe...Single black female addicted to retail. And well...” - KANYE WEST X ALL FALLS DOWN

Circling the block once more, his frustration grew now killing the engine, that softly purred; it took more than two weeks to build up the courage, but he found himself in front of her building wheeling back and forth within his thoughts to escape the scene, or stay.

“Fuck this shit.” He thought it best to leave out of the ridiculousness he now felt. Unbeknownst to him, the person he was in search for casually watched from a distance amused. Right at this moment for the possibility of getting his ass handed to him with verbal assaults she was good for, was Jordan walking towards his car.

“You wanna move before you get a ticket mothafucka?”

“Shit! Jorda-...” He exhaled placing a hand over his heart.

“You can’t park here nigga…” Damn she got some little ass feet. He zoomed focus on her crisp white Nike Air Forces, and trailed up to the skin tight orange body suit that hugged her petite frame. The vintage red and orange Nike windbreaker to compliment her athleisure attire, concealed the throb causing assets: huge breasts.

“I’m straight. Listen, I need to talk to you.”

“That’s still up for questioning honestly, what you want Kaden? I got shit to do. I’m not up for your bullshit.”

“What are yo-...why is your mouth so fuckin’ reckless? Like, what’s good with you?”

“So you- okay.” She quickly did an About Face headed for the crosswalk, leaving Kaden dumbfounded momentarily until he eventually stepped out his truck hitting his alarm and followed.

“Yo! Jordan, man!”

“Nigga you either catch the fuck up, or I’ll see you later!”

He didn’t do shit like this, and technically he couldn’t. Gaining notoriety and recognition from his blessing of being a second year Wide Receiver in the NFL came with its perks, and downfalls. People actually noticed him now. And not in the pedestrian way either. He signed his third autograph this week for a five year old, who told him he was his biggest fan, and that one day he wanted to be just like him. Fans. He winced at the poor little boy wanting to be like the critically acclaim asshole, with a horrific track record to match. He shook the apprehension off seeing the subway entrance come to view in which Jordan speedily descended. He didn't take the subway. I don't have to. He never explained himself to anyone aside from the very few he held in high regards. There's no reason to. And certainly he never chased after a female especially in the physical sense because he never felt the urge to. This is just...

His eyes scattered about the congested space, in search for some breathing room and a bright orange jacket with the signature Nike emblem. Shoving her way through a boisterous crowd of prep school students he could see was Jordan stepping onto the train. He shoved his way through and searched for a space to squish in. Conveniently it was close to her, as they stood side by side latching on the standee seething. The abrupt smell of funk, and her antics he had just about enough of. Kaden didn't understand how or when the dynamics of whatever relation one would call this, got so conflicting. How he couldn't stand her so intensely. They were way past grade school spats, or any juvenile issues that any guy had with their best friend’s little sister. But as easy as it was to provoke, and get a rise out of her it was hard to deny the real reason why. They silently stared at each other, until she eventually sucked her teeth looking off.

“You so damn hollywood. What? You afraid the act of the common folk will rub off? Hm?” As Kaden grimaced feeling a sweaty arm collide on his skin for the fourth time, he looked down at her beyond annoyed. Blame it on hypochondria and slight claustrophobia, he couldn’t endure for too long even if it was the latter.

“You don’t know shit about me.”

“I know you’re full of shit...I know that. I know whatever it is you have to say would be utter bullshit too, so you shouldn’t even waste me or your time.” She shoved him off as they continued bumping into each other with each sway the subway was causing.

“You got a stick so far up your ass, nobody can get through to you.”

“Good. I like it that way.”

“Where the fuck you got me goin’ Jo?”

“Got you goin’!?” She hissed, attempting to whisper but failing miserably. “ Nigga you hopped your happy ass on here, I didn't force you to follow me!” A lady in earshot, Kaden could spot in his peripheral, shifted in her seat following the clear of her throat as she continued looking ahead. Damn. We're really doing this...in public.

“It's that hard though!? For you to just open your fuckin’ mouth and spit it ou-” More eyes shifted in their direction, causing Kaden to grit his teeth as Jordan maneuvered to the exit to get off finally as they came to a stop. She jetted up the stairs and walked up 135 street. For several blocks they dwelled in silence. Him attempting to keep up with her swift steps and glares with an occasional reminder that he didn’t have to follow her. But he wasn’t budging. I came this damn far anyway. They reached the Harlem Hospital Center, and immediately Kaden grew confused and concerned. Slowly turning his way, Jordan folded her lips in. Her eyes closing before bringing her hands clasp in a prayer motion to her lips.

“Don’t say shit you hear me? Just stay...stay your ass in the background.” They entered as she went towards the front desk greeted by a nurse. “Hi uh...I-I’m here to visit one of your patients.”

LONDON

“Ouch, Milan! Shit!”

“Keep your damn head still, then. Big ass head.”

It's worth it. The woven lines of strings crisscrossed and zigzagged through her masterpiece of a braided beehive, truly was. London didn't trust her brother to be her landline if she secured a spot on Who Wants To Be A Millionaire. Or have the expectation from him that he will ever arrive at any place on time. But Miles ‘Milan’ Pierre if not anything knows hair. Even to much of their father’s dismay, having a secured hairstylist for every recital, every fashion show, and event was much of a blessing and for him a curse.

The moment his son traded a football for a hot comb, the soured hope of doom courtesy of Monty Pierre was placed. Where he shunned Miles total existence, only acknowledging his presence when it suited him, and was forced to at any social gathering. As Milan would put it: “Some just can't take the fabulousness even if the DNA is shared.”

So it was important to affirm through every tug, rip, and yank that the flawless honey blonde tresses of virgin Malaysian hair was worth it. Milan allowed the flat irons and comb glide through the tresses, before fluffing out the ends. Silky.

“Don't trim shit either. l want all 28’’ inches of lush down to the crack of my ass.”

“Yeah, I know...cause you're extra. And you bitches think I'm about to be doing the same hair twice every two weeks too, huh? Ha! Think again. Call Brooklyne and tell her little ass she has an hour to get here. And I wants my bag.” The rat tail comb was directed towards her nose. His eyes squinting looking down at her.

“Alright mighty mouth Milan, sheesh.” She pushed the comb away, while typing a text to Brooklyne. Like always his false promises went in one of London’s ears where a princess cut stone from Cartier could be found and out the other as she typed away, and hissed at another yank of the sewing string.

“So...Kiersten. Heard from her?”

“Yup.”

“Really, now? How long ago was this?”

“Two days ago.” Short, clipped, and sweet. He ain’t slick. London wasn't too fond of Kiersten recent choices, in fact she despised them. With her association of Imani’s brother being one of them, and her recent disappearing acts being a close second. It didn't take Einstein to figure he had to be the one occupying her time if it wasn't herself, and Brooklyne especially with her keeping it short with them both. But the secrecy was Kiersten’s way of ducking and diving from London’s typical interrogations.

“You know London Bridge…” Here we go. “As your favorite brother on this dreading universe…”

“Nigga you're my only brother.”

“Shit as far as we know.” London sneered up in his direction watching him through the mirror. “...I know you wouldn't, of course, keep secrets from me would you? Like, you shouldn't...it would totally go against sibling code.”

“There's nothing to tell, Milan.”

“Hmph. So riddle me this…”

Milan held a picture in her direction posted on E! news. There in a grainy picture was a snapshot of Messiah and Kiersten leaving Rime sneaker boutique in Brooklyn. The caption identifying them as the daughter of Supermodel legend with an unidentifiable specimen of a hottie. Oh, heavens...

“...yeah, hoe. And you were sayin’?”

-----------

“This incognito...ass...bitch.”

Brooklyne spat while gawking at Kiersten crossing the street heading in their direction. Huddled as a duo at the signature rustic tables, London hoped that a frappe courtesy of Maman Coffee, would aid in settling the trauma ahead. She reckoned Kiersten even looked the part of a person not wanting to be seen or acknowledged. Frames concealing the majority upper region of her face, so big twice they were pushed up at the nose bridge. A huge scarf to shield the cold, and from what London could also see, provide some form of warmth to make up for Kierstens icy demeanor. She finally took a seat setting her huge crimson Celine duffle on the adjacent seat.

“Hey.”

“Kiersten where have you-” Brooklyn raised her hand halting London as she interjected.

“What’s up mama, how’re you? Where you comin’ from?”

“Just left my only class for the day. But I’m fine...why? What’s so urgent?” She typed away on her cellular device ever so casually. London raised a brow, and dipped forward fighting away a scowl.

“Listen, Ki. I want you to know that not only do we love you, we're here for you through any, and everything. You do know that right?”

“Why wouldn’t I Brooklyne?”

“Well, jee Kiersten maybe your absenteeism could be a clue?” Even the huge shaded lenses couldn’t shake London’s stare she could see Kiersten fidget under. It’s truly never her intentions to ever come off condescending...well half of the time admittedly so, but London just couldn’t help herself. Kiersten could just be so...dense.

“London!”

“What, Brooklyne!?”

“As I was saying...we love you. So you shutting us out makes no sense. Like what’s really the matter?”

When they scheduled the mock “conference”, intervention in the words of London, a “simple girl talk to get to the bottom of the issue” to Brooklyne, they didn’t expect for it to go like this. Especially foodless with a flat frappe she reckoned to add insult to injury. Why was she being so defensive? For the life of her London couldn’t figure it out. Cute shades or not.

“Can you tell your sister not to bore holes into me like I’m some nutcase, or freakshow.”

“Brooklyne can you tell your friend that she should acknowledge me cause I am sitting right the fuck here, and maybe I’m staring at her cause she's avoiding eye contact?!

“You bitches are going to drive me to drink. And it’s only 11a-fuckin’-m! Please, alright? Kiersten real shit, though? Take the damn glasses off! I don’t know what kind of super duper spy shit you got goin’ on, and London pipe it the fuck down cause you’re doing a lot at a smooth eight, bring it down to like a three. I know it’s finals, and the end of the semester is approaching but, damn!”

“She’s just so judgy! I get enough of that from Fiona, from my professors, from everyone. The one person I don’t need it from is the person I should be confiding in the most; my best friend! And then when I find someone that doesn’t do those things...that respects me, and my opinions, acknowledge my efforts, and furthermore doesn’t treat me like a child? That’s a problem too!”

Silence. For a lengthy two minutes that followed a sniffle, and finally the removal of those big ass frames that presented liquid duds pouring in droplets of two. Brooklyn immediately reached over and wiped her face, causing London to feel slightly shitty.

“I just worry about you Ki, and want what’s bes-”

“Want what’s best for me. Yes, I’m always hearing that you, but your opposition to my wants, doesn’t warrant judgement. Cause you’re not always right.” An obnoxious sound of intense suction came from Brooklyn’s straw, as she sipped her iced tea and divided her gaze amongst the two.

“Hmph. Well isn’t this tea just lovely?” She muttered. London, cut her eyes at her before refocusing them back on Kiersten.

“Okay, so this is about Messiah? Alright, fine. If you like it? Then I love it...so be it then Ki.”

“No, London...Messiah is just the half. I need you and everyone else? To realize that I’m grown. So the next time my mother or your father goes around looking for me, tell them just that.” She pushed her seat back grabbing her shades, and bag.

“Kiersten! Really!?” The duo watched as she stepped on to the street hailing a taxi, that came in such perfect timing one would've thought it was planned.

#the clermont twins #heather sanders #heather sanders ff #theclermonttwinsff #chris brown ff #chrisbrownff #the game ff #:)))))))))))

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