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80s4life · 2 years

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Some Kind Of Wonderful

Word Count: 2,220

Status: Requested!

Ask: Hiii can you do anything for Randall Pink Floyd

@: a very interesting anon that loves forgotten movies like me! (seriously, Dazed and Confused doesn’t get enough attention)

Fandom: Dazed And Confused 1993

Relationship: Randall “Pink” Floyd x Reader

Summary: Time’s slowly running out and the dangers of adulthood are starting to near too quickly. When finishing off the last year of high school starts to truly seep into your bones, you realize someone’s wasting a gift you simply couldn’t just be handed.

Warnings: explicit language, sexual jokes, weed, alcohol, weed and alcohol consumption, underage drinking/smoking/partying

Masterlist Dazed And Confused Masterlist

{gif is not mine, credits go to @dazed--and--confused}

Heaving yourself over the chain link fence, Slater is quick to clumsily follow behind. Giggling, you drop down drunkenly, scrambling to your feet to help Slater carefully tumble over the other side.

“I got it. I got it,” he smiles, using your shoulders as support as he tries to stand on the flimsy wraps of metal without anything to hold onto. “Alright, go away.”

Stepping back as he had asked, it takes all about ten seconds before he’s colliding with the ground with a hard thud. You try your best to stay quiet, but the groans that follow soon after cause you to explode. As best as you can manage, you wheeze while taking his hand and lifting him up, “Don’t got it.”

“Hey, I was up there for a long time! Try beating that!”

“Nah, I’d rather keep my head in tact,” you slur, handing him the indiscreet bottle wrapped inside a paper bag.

He happily obliges, eyes quickly being entertained with holding the bottle without spilling, your eyes scanning the field to find the rest of the gang. Just along the other side of the football field, the familiar cackling of young teens tells you that you guys showed up too late.

“Hey, there they are!” you can hear Don shouting, voice echoing throughout the stands and bleachers.

Shoving Slater, you guys fall into a not-so-sturdy race, feet flying about and hands scattered in all directions to prevent falling on your faces again. The group, staring at your liquid-enhanced happiness, laugh as they decide to move towards the center of the field.

Sucking in greedy breaths of air, you both go tumbling into the grass before the group. Slater rolls into Pink and Simone while you crash into Don’s awaiting arms.

“Perfect landing,” he grins into your ear, making sure to leave a teasing nibble on the lobe, eyes digging straight into the particularly long haired brunette across from him.

“Shut up,” you groan, lifting off of him to sit cross-legged besides Slater once more.

For some time, you indulge in the adventures of David Wooderson; the many women he’s been with, the crazy shit he got himself into and how he got out of it, the places he’s been. Although they were bizarre, they kept the group entertained through their buzzed hazes, laughing and giggling at every punch line.

Laying across Slater’s thighs, you support your head with both of your crossed arms. Beside you, Slater takes turns in passing the joint between you both, one arm supporting his own head as he stares up at the stars.

The group had fallen in a comfortable silence, indulging in the short-lived peace that is soon to be destroyed as the morning light comes up. Slowly, with the peaking sun just above the treeline, Shavonne and Simone make their exit through the front gate of the school’s football stadium.

You sadly let them go, knowing that senior year is just about over for you, hugging them as they depart. Wooderson is next to leave, still tipsy over last night’s drinks, he comfortably grabs the bottle of tequila he was nursing, leaving before the cops have a chance to get him.

Watching the clouds turn a deep shade of orange like gold, you, Slater, and Pink all sit up side by side to watch the end of the show.

“Hey man...woman....this isn’t the end of us, is it?” Slater slurs, turning briefly to look the each of you in the eye.

“Hell no!” you yell, looking at him as if he’s crazy, “You’re my best friend, Slater, my partner in crime. I’m not done with you yet.”

He smiles at the drastic bit of reassurance, sharing a look of fond companionship. Swiftly, the both of you nudge shoulders and turn towards Pink, expectant eyes waiting for his answer that didn’t come as naturally as it should’ve.

He looks Slater in the eyes, then they slip to yours in a sense of regret and premature sadness. Sighing, he blows, “I don’t known, man. We hung out with each other because we were stuck with each other. Now we have no reason to be around - hang out like we used to. We aren’t kids anymore, we’re adults about to enter the big, wide world we’ve been dying for. Who knows what the next year or two will take us.”

“That’s why we make sure it doesn’t happen,” you counter, staring off at the sky again.

“And how can you ensure that, Y/N?” Pink asks with a defensiveness you aren’t quite used to hearing.

“Because,” you snap your head towards him sharply, “If we want to be in each other’s lives, we’ll make damn sure that we stick around.” Your eyes, stern and soft at the same time, bore into his own with and intensity and determination set.

Neither Pink nor Slater argue you, Pink still staring at you with disbelief and no change in his thoughts. He doesn’t believe you, not completely.

“Pink,” you try to compose yourself, setting your voice to a lighter tone to avoid further argument. “If you’re friends and truly scared of losing them, the love and bond you share should say enough. You don’t just fucking disappear on your own, you’ll let that shit happen and you’ll know you’re doing it, too. We’ve lost a lot of good friends, but they weren’t built to last. Our friendship, well, it’ll last a lifetime.”

Slater pulls you in by your shoulder, side hugging you with a warm, kooked-out smile, “Yeah man. Even our kids will be friends.”

You laugh at that, looking back at Pink, his head down and hands playing with the grass. “I don’t know,” his voice cracks a bit.

Looking back at Slater, he nods, whispering in your ear, “Tell him Y/N, you’ve got nothing to lose. He needs you.” You smile at his unnatural encouragement, he’s always good at finding the right words, as rare as they come. Getting up from the grass and waving his goodbye, he winks at you, going back through the woods in which you came silently.

“Pink,” you mumble, shuffling closer to him and placing a hand underneath his head, pulling him up to look at you by his chin. When he looks up, his eyes are glossy and threatening to break down at any moment, softening as you look at him. “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, you hear me?”

“I just don’t want to lose us,” he chokes, a tear sneaking past him before he could wipe it away.

“We won’t. We- I-,” you stutter to find the words. You know what you want to tell him, but you don’t know how to - too scared of the possibility of rejection. “I love you, Pink, always have, always will. I’ve stuck around this long without an inch of expectation from you, what makes you think it’ll change now? You’re gonna go places, Pink, but don’t think I won’t be too far behind you, making sure you get just where you need to be.”

For once, he smiles at you, a glossy wet smile that cracks through the shadows of doubt swirling in his head. “You’re talking about the pledge, aren’t you.”

“Oh, you’re signing that pledge, don’t get me wrong, but no, I’m talking about anywhere and wherever you go. You don’t have to be this huge NFL football player for me to love you just the same, you’re always gonna be Pink from Lee High School in good, old Austin, Texas, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he smirks, looking down at the grass again.

“Hey,” you pull his head up again, “I’m serious, Pink.”

“I know,” he mumbles, “Just scared for our futures, you know? I don’t know where I’m going yet.”

“And you’re not gonna know for a long time, you’re still in high school. You’ll figure life out just like the rest of us, you just have to get through the last year of high school. Shit, I mean, I don’t even know what the fuck to do with myself yet and I just graduated.”

He laughs at that, smiling wide for you to see as he gives you a once over, “You’re gonna do just fine, Y/N. You always get your shit together. You have nothing to worried about.”

“Neither do you,” your smirk, poking his arm.

You guys fall into a comfortable silence for a moment or two, riddled with your own thoughts before Pink speaks up again, “So, you love me, huh?”

“Oh, shut up,” your face heats up, this time being the one to look at the grass for answers. “I knew you’d pick that up.”

“How could I not, it was such a beautiful speech, really made me tear up.”

You laugh at him, shoving his shoulder as you get back up on your feet. Outstretching your hand, Pink takes it, frame towering over yours with his natural height and intensity.

Slowly, you guys make your way to the front gate of the football field. There, you find Slater, stomping out his half-smoked joint just as Coach Bronco emerges from the parking lot, holding a finger up to his lips with a smile.

“Ah, Randy,” Bronco chirps, acting as if he hadn’t been waiting for a while, “You sign that pledge yet?”

“Actually,” you step before him, “He was just going to sign it now, do you have a pen?” You smile nice a sweet, Bronco pulling out a pen and handing it to you. “Oh, and we kind of lost the paper,” you smirk innocently, “You know, with the parties and stuff tonight, it got lost.”

“Oh sure, I’ve got a copy,” he runs back to his car to fetch another paper.

Pink elbows you in the side and you turn to smile devilishly at him, “You’ve got a gift, I’m not going to stand by and watch you spoil it, Pink.”

“Here you are,” Coach Bronco smiles.

“Thank you,” you take it from him, handing it over to Pink and turning around, offering your back for him to use to sign it. Begrudgingly he does as you’d silently instructed, signing the paper and handing it back.

“Thanks Randy, we look forward to seeing you next year. Don’t get soft on us,” then Bronco leans in, whispering something you can’t quite make out, turning to sneak a peak at Slater, hiding in the bushes. “And don’t let that one go, that one knows what they’re talking about. A good influence...special.”

“Alright! Thanks Coach, I’ll see you next year,” Pink exclaims, motioning towards his want for Bronco to leave.

“Thanks Coach B, he’ll be back better than ever. You just wait!”

“I hope so,” and with that, Bronco leaves seemingly happy with the outcome.

“That doesn’t mean I’m not smoking this summer,” Pink mutters.

“All you had to do was sign it, now you’re free,” you smile. “Come on, lets go home, we need to sleep at some point.”

Waving at Slater, he comes bounding out of the bushes again, a tipsy smile on his face. “Does that mean I have to find a new smoking buddy?”

“Nah, I’m not done yet,” Pink smirks.

“Hey, I thought I was your smoking buddy?” you punch Slater’s arm.

“Ow!” he exclaims dramatically. “You are my smoking best friend,” he corrects.

“So, I’m more special then?”

“Sure,” he smirks.

Walking down the parking lot, you part ways, hugging Pink before you turn back to Slater, wrapping your arm around his waist due to his height. Pink goes the other direction with a giggle, watching as Slater puts all of his weight onto you, wobbling down the road.

Before he turns the corner, Pink calls out, “Oh, and Y/N?!”

Turning around, you look back at him, “Yeah?”

“I love you, too!”

Confusion laces your features as quickly as his blow, looking up at Slater to make sure you heard it right. Slater looks down at you, eyebrows raised with a shrug. Turning back to Pink, a huge smile breaks across your face.

Down the road, Pink smiles back with a red hue to his cheeks, “Did you hear me?”

Suddenly, you let go of Slater and bound towards Pink, almost tackling him as you jump on him. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he chuckles loud, smirking down at you as he places a kiss to your nose.

“Are you serious?” you ask, looking up at him with bewilderment.

“Well, you didn’t really give me a chance to say it back, did you?”

“You’re not answering my question.”

“Do I need to say it again?”

“For clarification purposes, please?”

“I love you, Y/N Y/L/N. I have since we were Freshmen.”

Turning around, you give Slater a double thumbs up, him smiling and imitating a gagging motion. “I love you, too, Randall Floyd.”