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erensangel444 · 3 years

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just a humble bounty hunter

spike spiegel x reader

DNI if not 16+ thank you!

cowboy bebop fr fr is one of my favorite animes it’s just 😘

this fic is spike x fem!reader, if you guys would want to see some gender-neutral fics just let me know in my asks inbox! i’m open to any suggestions if you want a fic that’s specifically tailored to you whether that be race-wise, gender-wise, any disabilities, etc,. just let me know!

likes/reblogs/comments are always appreciated:D

this fic has been proofread but if i missed something just let me know!

a/n: i want this life plz. ALSO, I LOVE THIS TROPE: two unemotionally available people whose hearts are taken by another, but for some reason, they can’t have the person they want, so they seek out each other for comfort(aka sex), and eventually, it turns in to something more, and there’s a little bit of angst, but in the end, their hearts belong to one another now. IM GONNA CRY :,) i don’t know if that made any sense but ya feel me???

okay don’t beat me up....but this has a cliche confessing-our-love-in-the-rain scene. IM A SUCKER FOR THE CLICHES OKAY?!! also faye’s lowkey a cock-blocker in this?? I LOVE HER THO, i want her to stomp on me.

warnings: language(most of my fics do contain language), stealing, use of drugs(just weed), violence(no death), germs?? bc transfer of something from one person’s mouth to another(just a cherry stem), alcohol consumption, smut; dry humping, unprotected sex w/ creampie, cumplay, oral(male!receiving), mentions of public sex, degradation + praise,

word count:

summary: attempting to forget the past with a cowboy, unknowingly creating a future.

you could hear the thrum of electricity throughout the bebop. you slid open your door, the lights near the bottom of the wall lighting the walkway. you walked into the kitchen, the room dark beside the moonlight shining in through the open gateway. you grabbed a soda from the fridge, walking towards the open entrance of the bebop.

you could make out spike’s figure in the distance, the slight flare from his cigarette making him easily distinguishable. you opened your soda, spike’s head turning at the sound. he noticed it was you, taking another puff from his cigarette before smiling at you and turning back around.

you had landed on cacri, a possible bounty in the area. the ship sat in the water for tonight, in a bay that was a docking area for ships. it overlooked the city, and if you turned to the other side, the sea stretched for miles fading into a distance of nothingness.

you walked over to spike, who was standing at the edge of the ship. you sat down, your legs hanging off of the ship. you set your soda down, sitting back on your arms. “rough night?” you joked, the soft waves of the water brushing against the ship.

you heard spike chuckle from above you, muttering as he held the cigarette in between his lips, “you could say that,”. you looked up at him, spike already looking down at you. he pulled the cigarette from his lips, holding it out to you, to which you shook your head left and right.

“i prefer more medicinal herbs,” you sighed jokingly, spike smiling down at you. “to each their own,” he mumbled with the cigarette in between his lips, looking back out to the water. you laid your back down on the ship, looking up at the stars. “god that’s what i need right now, some weed,” you declared, sitting back up. “i’ll be back,” you said, standing up and grabbing your soda from the walkway of the ship. “i’ll come with you,” spike offered, rushing to catch up with you. you pouted mockingly, “think i can’t handle myself?”. you walked into the kitchen with spike, setting your soda down on the island.

“you’ve shown full and well you can handle yourself,” spike praised, smirking at you, “maybe i’m just interested in partaking in some of those medicinal herbs,”.

you and spike crammed into your tight ship, the sound of the ship taking off causing ripples along the water. spike had found a 24-hour dispensary not too far away, and you set the ship down about a block away. you walked in, the bell on the door ringing.

a woman sat behind the cash register, smacking her gum loudly. she looked up at you and spike, giving the pair of you an uninterested stare before looking back down at her nail filer.

you looked at spike, raising one eyebrow with a soft smile, spike laughing softly. you walked through the store, grabbing rolling paper and a bag of weed, a strain called “strawnana”. spike couldn’t help but pick up gummy bear edibles, and so you headed to the cashier placing it all out on the countertop in front of you.

“id,” the cashier grumbled. you realized that you hadn’t brought your id and turned towards spike, looking for a solution. “we forgot em’” spike said plainly. the cashier’s unimpressed look remained. “the legal age here is 18 though, right?” spike asked, though he already knew the answer. “we look over 18 right,” spike smiled, draping his arm over your shoulder and pulling you closer.

“no id, no weed,” the cashier said plainly, pointing to a sign behind her that read ‘we card!’. “you know,” spike started, leaning on the countertop, “i really hate to do this, but,” he grabbed the rolling paper and bud, running towards the door.

you paused for a moment, before realizing what was going on. you grabbed the gummy bears from atop the counter, running towards spike who was holding the door open. you could hear a “hey! come back here!” from behind you, and you turned to see spike throw up a peace sign to the cashier.

you ran down the block, running towards your ship. you slowed down, walking for a moment, laughter coming over you. “you’re fucking crazy,” you sighed airily, walking beside spike who let out a soft laugh.

“we got it though didn’t we?” he said with a smile.

you and spike were back outside of the bebop, sitting on the take-off strip. the joint was in between your lips as you took a drag, inhaling the substance. you blew it out with a puff, coughing once with a light chuckle before handing it over to spike.

spike took a hit before blowing out the smoke. the joint had become shorter, barely being held between spike’s fingers. spike deaded the joint, setting it in the ashtray. “yeah, this is what i needed,” you sighed, lying down. it seemed like the stars were brighter than they were before as you looked up at the sky now.

the soft noise of the waves brushing against the ship lulled you further into a calm state. “do you do this often?” spike asked, turning towards you. “only after we get a bounty, shit’s expensive,” you said honestly, spike laughing softly.

spike laid down next to you, looking up at the stars. “s’pretty huh?” you said simply, turning towards spike. spike hummed out an affirmation, still looking at the sky. you smiled at his expression, turning back towards the sky.

“it’s cold,” spike said, sitting back up, “let’s go inside,” you offered, standing up and walking back towards the entrance of the bebop. spike was trailing behind you, gummy bear package in hand.

the loud noise of the gears turning as the gate to the take-off strip closed finally came to a cease. you plopped down on the couch, sighing softly before spike sat down next to you. “feel real good,” he drawled before lying his head down on your lap and smiling up at you.

you just laughed softly, your hand falling to spike’s hair out of instinct. “do you have someone you miss?” spike spoke softly, the conversation taking an abrupt turn. you sucked your bottom lip in before deciding to speak. spike was being vulnerable, the least you could do was reciprocate his vulnerability.

“yeah,” you said plainly, trying to control the shakiness of your voice, “don’t think i’ll ever be able to get em’ back, though. try to tell myself it’s no use to think about them, but i can’t help it,” your voice trailed off towards the end of the sentence.

spike squeezed his eyes shut as if trying to shake away a vision before he spoke quietly, “i miss her, fucked up bringing her into my life,” your hand paused in his hair for a moment, latching onto his every word, “don’t even know where she is, even if i did, i don’t know if i could face her,”. the room grew silent for a moment, your hand resuming its ministrations in spike’s hair.

“love sucks, huh?” you said simply, spike giving you a weak smile. “s’like,” you paused for a moment, trying to collect your thoughts, “no matter how hard you tried to forget, it’s still there, still in the back of your mind,”. spike’s eye lit up at your words. he pushed into your hand, and you hadn’t even realized your hand had stopped.

you continued playing with his hair as spike spoke, “i try so hard not be stuck in my past, but it’s always there, like you said, in the back of my mind,”. you looked down at spike nodding. the room grew silent once more, neither of you itching to say anything.

“jus’ wanna forget,” spike said, his voice breaking slightly. he sat up abruptly, leaning beside you on the couch. he turned to face you, his face closer to you now. “don’t you wanna forget?” he said, his eyes crinkling. you could feel the heat flush to your cheeks, and you nodded, afraid your words would betray you.

next thing you knew spike’s lips were on yours. you hesitated for a moment before reveling in the feel of the kiss. your hands fell to spike’s hair, spike’s hands tracing down your body. his hands gripped your hips, pulling you onto his lap. you let out a slight gasp, pulling away for a moment and looking at spike.

you kissed him once more, mumbling into spike’s lips, “jus’ to forget,”. spike lifted a bit off of the couch, trying to lean into the kiss more, his hands drifting to your backside. spike hummed into your lips, agreeing.

spike was peeling your shirt over your head as your fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. the kiss was quickly becoming more desperate, muffled moans and grunts falling from both of your lips. you couldn’t help but rock on spike’s laps, your arousal dampening your panties.

“sh-shit,” spike pulled away, leaning his head back on the couch. you continued to grind on his lap, your hands tracing over his chest, his shirt fully unbuttoned. “jus’ like that,” he groaned, before pulling you in for another kiss, your whimpers being muffled by his lips

your hands fell to the button of his pants, fumbling with the item before an abrupt clearing of the throat interrupted you. you pulled away from spike’s lips quickly, looking towards the doorway.

faye was leaning along the wall, smirking at the pair of you. you quickly removed yourself from spike’s lap, grabbing your shirt from the floor. “and to think i only came for a glass of water and got a free show,”

“s’not for free actually, pay up” spike grumbled, buttoning back up his shirt. you stood up from the couch, desperately wanting to cave in on yourself as you spoke softly, “goodnight, spike,”.

you looked down at the man, an apologetic expression on your face. “goodnight,” he said, smiling up softly at you.“night, faye,” you said, passing by her. “night y/n!” she yelled down the hall, “cute bra by the way,”.

“shut up faye!”

you hadn’t gotten much sleep that night, tossing and turning, throwing the covers off of your body before curling up in them once more. you knew faye was going to give you shit about it in the morning, and you could deal with that.

but what did this mean for you and spike?

you awoke to ein licking at your face, ed chanting at the end of your bed, “bacon! bacon! bacon!” she grinned, ein barking at her excitement. “alright, fine,” you grumbled, “just get ein off of me!”.

edward grabbed the dog from the bed, ein licking her face, “yuck! your breath stinks ein,”. you laughed at edward, patting ein’s head. “come on, ed,” you said, walking down the halls of the bebop. you were silently praying that spike was still asleep.

you walked into the kitchen to find faye sitting at the countertop, drinking coffee. she smirked at you over her cup, “good morning, sunshine!” she said in a sweet tone, “morning faye,” you replied. you turned to look at her, grabbing the bacon from the fridge.

she set her coffee cup down at the countertop, smiling at you. “faye,” you whined, drawing out the e. “we have a lot to discuss, very important things to discuss,” she whispered, ed sitting on the floor playing with ein.

“let me at least make some coffee first,” you grumbled, putting the first piece of bacon onto the pan.

ed was happily chewing on her bacon, playing chess in the living room. you and faye sat at the countertop, coffee cups in hand. “first off,” faye started, and you prepared yourself for the slew of judgements to be thrown at you. “what the fuck?”.

“let me explain,” you assured her, faye just clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, “no need for explanations, it was like i walked in on a porno,” “hey! it was not that bad,” you chastised, looking back down to your coffee.

“we were high, it didn’t mean anything, trust me,” you said, taking a sip of your coffee. your stomach turned at your words, but you ignored it. “it better not of, cause we’ve got a bounty to catch, and i can’t have you lovebugs getting in the way of cold, hard money,” faye said.

you laughed softly, “you’re just gonna gamble it away anyways,”. faye pushed your shoulder, “and who’s gonna be getting wasted at the bar while i invest my money wisely,” she teased. “oh yeah, you’re a prime example of a smart spender. at least my money is wasted on vodka,”. she took a sip from her coffee, “is that really that much better?”.

you both laughed softly, ed cheering from across the room at a smart chess move she had made. you and faye sat at the countertop for a while, conversing. faye had gone to shower, leaving you in the kitchen. you washed your two coffee cups, drying them off afterwards.

“morning, spike!” you heard ed say happily from across the room, your eyes shooting up. “g’morning kid,” he grumbled, walking over to the countertop while rubbing his eyes. “morning,” you said, trying to contain a sense of normalcy within your voice.

“hey,” he said, his voice softening. “i-i’m gonna go shower,” you said, spike nodding. you walked out of the kitchen, rushing towards your bathroom once you were out of spike’s line of sight.

“slow down, speed racer,” jet joked as you brushed past him. “sorry, jet,” you said, smiling sheepishly. you opened the door to your bathroom, closing it quickly after.

you leaned against the metal of the door, taking a deep breath. why couldn’t you just act normal? last night hadn’t meant anything, it was just to forget. you rationalized last night, realizing your actions were out of proportion. spike wouldn’t act differently, so you decided not to either.

a knock on the door broke you from your thoughts. you unlocked it, sliding open the door. “spike?” the man pushed inside of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. “can’t just fuckin ignore it,” he said, shaking his head.

“wanted more last night,” he said, staring at you intently. “know you did too,”. “spike, w-we can’t,” you reasoned, spike backing you up against the wall. “why not? it’s harmless sex,” “harmless sex,” you repeated. spike nodded, “just to forget,” you whispered, “just to forget,” spike repeated.

you pulled him in for a kiss, moaning at contact. you had been itching for the feel of his lips on yours since last night. his hands quickly fell to the bottom of your shirt, lifting it over your head. he pulled away for a moment, unbuttoning his own shirt before his lips found yours once more.

your hand fell to his pants, tugging at them, hoping that spike would get the message. he read you loud and clear, pulling his sweats down and attempting to shimmy out of them. his pants pooled at his feet as he tugged at your sleep shorts pulling them down your body.

spike lifted you up, your legs latching around his waist. he stepped out of his sweats, walking you over to the countertop. his hand drifted to your lace-covered center, rubbing at your clit through the fabric. “can feel it through your panties, you’re dripping,” spike teased. “fuck,” you sighed, your head falling back into the mirror.

“can’t say i’m much better,” spike groaned, grabbing your hand and pulling it to his bulge. you gasped slightly, looking at him. he was big. spike just smirked up at you, grinding his bulge against your center. the fabric between the two of you created more friction, whimpers falling freely from your lips as spike groaned lowly into your shoulder.

he placed kisses onto your skin, pulling away for a moment, “want it?” he asked, grinding into you more. “gonna-fuck-gonna be too loud,” you whined, looking at spike. spike pulled away from you completely and you whimpered at the loss of contact.

he turned on the shower, the water falling from the showerhead, creating noise as it hit the floor of the shower. “problem solved,” he said, smiling at you. he kissed you once more, his fingers pulling your panties to the side, rubbing at your slit. he moaned into your mouth pulling away, “won’t even need to prep you, so fuckin’ ready for me,” spike said, his eyes staring at his finger rubbing through your slit, the digit quickly becoming covered in your slick.

“n-need you inside!” you yelped as spike’s thumb rubbed at your clit. “fuck,” spike sighed, pulling his boxers down your legs. you shimmied out of your panties, lifting your hips from the countertop of the sink. you kicked them onto the floor, grabbing at the back of spike’s head, kissing him. he pulled away breathless, looking at you.

“you’re sure?” he asked. you couldn’t help the way your heart slightly palpitated as you nodded eagerly. “are you?” you asked, your hand rubbing at the back of his neck. he nodded the same as you had. “okay,” you said quietly, spike repeating the word as he pushed into you slowly.

you both let out a slight gasp at the push inside, smiling at one another after. as spike pushed further inside, the whimpers and mewls falling from your lips grew in volume. he bottomed out, pulling you in for a kiss, groaning into your mouth.

“so fuckin’ tight, clenching on me,” spike groaned. you whined as spike pulled out slightly, thrusting back into you. you both let out airy moans at that. spike was breathing deeply as you adjusted to the feel of his cock inside of you. “m-move!” you mewled, desperate for more, “please, want it!”. spike obliged, his eyes lingering on his cock pushing in and out of you.

his eyes raked over your body, looking up at your face contorted in pleasure. “so good, spike! s-so good!” you whimpered. his cock brushed against your walls, hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you. “oh fuck,” spike moaned airily.

he nuzzled his face into your neck, his moans and groans muffled by your skin. “c-close!” you yelped. spike pulled away from your lips, his forehead pressing against yours. “come on,” he said, his voice shaky. “lemme feel it, wanna feel you cum on my cock, come on, angel,” he rambled, thrusting in and out of you at a rough pace now.

spike brought his thumb down to your clit, rubbing quick circles on the bundle of nerves. “s-spike!” you moaned as you came on his cock, your toes curling, a mantra of spike’s name falling from your lips.

spike took in your expression, your eyebrows furrowed, your tongue lolling out of your mouth slightly. he looked down to the ring of white around his cock, moaning at the sight. he looked back up at you, your eyes open now.

“cum inside, i’m on the pill,” you said, panting. “wanna feel it inside me,” you whimpered. spike moaned, throwing his head back. your hands traced over his abs, your nails scratching softly at the skin. “y/n, fuck, gonna, gonna-” spike groaned. his head fell into your shoulder, his moans muffled by your shoulder as his warm load filled you.

you sighed as spike’s thrust slowed, spike bottoming out once more. “fuck,” he sighed, the explicit turning into a soft laugh. you joined in, laughing softly. you pulled him in for another kiss, smiling into his lips.

he pulled out of you, causing you to wince at the stretch. you closed your legs abruptly, not wanting his cum to leak out of you and onto the floor. “no keep em open,” he said, his hand falling to your thigh, “wanna see it pool out of you,”. you raised an eyebrow at him, “i’ll clean it up,” he promised. you obliged, opening your thighs.

“fuck,” spike groaned, watching his cum leak out of you. you laughed softly at his astonishment, spike looking up at you. “what’s so funny?” he asked, smirking. “didn’t take you as being interested in cum play, but now that i think about it though, it makes a lot of sense,” you teased, smiling at him.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he said, raising his eyebrow. “oh, nothing,” you joked, grinning at him now. you pushed yourself off of the countertop, standing next to spike now. “get in the shower, bozo,” he joked.

“only if you join,” you teased, leaning close to him, “ya kinda smell like shit, spike,” you joked. “smell didn’t bother you earlier, huh?” spike teased, smiling at you. you felt your cheeks flush with heat as you stepped into the shower, spike behind you.

the water cascaded over your bodies, your head pressed against spike’s chest as the smell of your tangerine soap flooded your senses.

the bounty was on a well-known gambler, who had a tendency to rob casinos where he had lost his money. he always had two pretty women on his arms, though it boggled your mind how he did, the man not being particularly attractive, his personality even worse.

that’s why you had an issue with the plan to catch this bounty. you and faye were sent in to be his arm-candy for the night. the plan was to approach him at the bar, he’d take one look at the two of you, and drag you to whatever table he and his entourage sat at that night.

faye had gone in a dark red, spaghetti strap gown, and you in a black strapless gown, the top of your breasts peeking out perfectly from the dress. your hair had been pinned up, a few strands falling to frame your face.

you walked out from your room in the chosen attire for the night, a scowl on your face. faye whistled as you entered the room with a yell of “do a little spin,”. her commentary brought a smile to your face as you smiled softly with a holler of “you first,”.

you looked over to spike, his eyes raking over your figure. you couldn’t help the feeling in your stomach, spike’s eyes raising to your face and offering you a sheepish smile, knowing he’d been caught.

you laughed softly to yourself as jet began explaining the plan for tonight.

you stood at the bar, sipping on a vodka cranberry as you waited for the bounty to approach the bar. faye and you had on undetectable earpieces as you leaned against the bar, scouting the area. spike sat at a blackjack table not too far from the bar, acting as a protective measure.

you knew as soon the bounty entered, a large mass of people coming into the bar, everyone turning to them and murmuring. you and faye just had to wait patiently until they approached the bar. you figured that the group would secure a table before coming to the bar.

you toyed with the ice in your cup, sighing softly. “he’s headed over,” you heard spike’s voice in your ear, shivering at the sound. you put on your best fake smile, sitting down on the bar stool. you pushed your arms together, accentuating your cleavage.

faye sat opposite of you, in a similar pose. “right behind you,” spike said, your body slightly tensing before you forced yourself to relax. “what are two beautiful ladies like you doing all alone?” the man groveled, an ugly grin on his face.

god, men were so predictable.

you turned around on your stool, forcing a sultry smile onto your expression. “looking for someone to make us feel less alone,” you said in a seductive tone, the man laughing softly. “you’re in luck then,” the man drawled, grabbing you by your waist and spinning you into him.

you had to physically stop the bile forming in your throat, letting out an airy giggle in response. spike’s voice was sounding through your earpiece, “never heard you laugh like that before,”. you tried your best ignored spike’s commentary, latching your arm around the man, faye on the opposite side of him.

you had been seated at a poker table for a good hour now, clapping your hands together enthusiastically to cheer on the man who was your bounty for the night. you had grown exhausted with your facade, but you just had to wait for the perfect opportunity.

you leaned up against the man’s side, your hand falling to his thigh. “think i left something in my ship, would you mind walking me out?” you said, peering up at him your eyes wide.

he clicked his tongue to the side of his mouth, smirking, before grabbing your waist, and sliding out of the booth. he walked you out of the casino, his hand falling to your backside, full-on grabbing your ass. you held back from ripping his dirty hands off at you, silently praying for the moment where you could give this fucker what he deserved.

“where’s your ship?” he said as you got further into the parking lot. you just smirked at that, faye walking out from the casino. “about that,” you sighed before landing a roundhouse kick to the man’s face. he fell to the ground groaning, and you kicked him once in his stomach for good measure.

you knelt down next to him, pulling the gun from his pants as you hovered over his face, “just so you know, not every woman wants your grimy hands all over them, i’m not a piece of fuckin property,”. you stood back up fully, towering over the man. spike walked out from behind his ship, handcuffs in hand.

“you, though,” he drawled, sitting the man up and handcuffing his hands behind his back, “are property of the bebop,”. you just smiled at spike, walking him back to spike’s ship. “hurry before his buddies come out here,” you said, basically shoving the man into spike’s ship

“sure you can handle em?” he asked, full and well knowing you were capable of defending yourself. “have i ever had a problem?” you smirked, spike just laughing softly. the pair of you walked away from spike’s ship and back to the entrance of the casino. just in time, you thought.

“sorry, boys,” you smirked, walking over to the group. faye had positioned herself along the wall of the building, acting as backup for when the fight began. “seems like your friend left,” you shrugged.

“you bitch!” one of his friends shouted, charging at you. you dodged the punch he had thrown, grabbing his arm before flipping him onto his back on the ground. he laid there, squirming in pain. a second man charged at you, spike easily stopping him by swiping the man’s leg with his foot. the man tumbled over, spike landing a kick to his face for good measure.

“who’s next?”

you, faye and spike had cleared out the group, the men laying near the exit of the casino, moans of pain sounding out in the silence of the night. “see ya back on the bebop,” you waved to faye, then to spike with a smile, opening the door to your ship.

you had decided that after all your hard work, you deserved a treat. you set your ship down near the closest 24 hour liquor store. you opened the door, a bell ringing. you gave a soft wave to the cashier before ducking down the isle, in search of a bottle of wine.

you grabbed the cheapest one from the shelf, shuffling through the items in your clutch, pulling out your id and card. you set the wine down in front of the cashier, “this all?” he asked, to which you nodded simply. “5.50,” he totaled the amount, and you handed him your card.

“have a good night,” you said simply, opening the door of the liquor store, the cold air brushing against your face as you walked back to your ship.

“rough night?” spike joked, walking into the living room of the bebop. you simply smiled at the parallel of his words with yours from the night before as you spoke, “guess you could say that,” you sighed, propping your feet up on the table.

the clock read 2:37 AM. the bounty you had collected tonight was on a man named hobi jones, wanted for numerous armed robberies. he now was in the holding cell of the bebop, the plan being to drop him off to the police station in the morning.

“looks like you’ve turned to the drink,” spike commented, his hand motioning to the bottle you brought to your lips. “a little cheap wine never hurt anybody,” you smiled, handing the bottle over to him. “merlot? didn’t realize it was that bad of night,” spike joked, taking a sip from the bottle.

“hey!” you laughed, “i chose the cheapest shit, not my fault i’m a broke bounty hunter,” “kinda is your fault,”. you both sat in silence for a moment, passing the bottle amongst yourselves. “you’re plotting,” spike said, eyeing you. you turned to him with a raised eyebrow, “huh?” you said simply, smiling softly.

“well, i mean, you’re sitting on the couch, looking like this” his eyes raked over your figure, “and you seduced me into joining you for a bottle of wine,” “seduced you?” you asked, your smile growing now. “if anything,” you teased, setting the bottle down on the table before positioning yourself atop spike’s lap, “i think you coming in here shirtless, practically naked, is a bit slutty, don’t you agree?”.

spike laughed softly at your words, his hands falling to your hips as he rutted you against his lap, “what are you gonna do about it?” he said simply. your lips were on his in an instance, soft hums falling from both of your lips. “looked so fuckin’ good in that dress tonight,” spike mumbled into your lips, his hands digging into your ass.

“w-wanna blow you,” you whimpered, pulling away from spike’s lips. “god, please,” he groaned, looking down at you as you kissed down his chest. your hands fell to the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging them down his legs. you palmed him through his boxers, his cock already half-hard.

you tapped at his left thigh, spike lifting his hips up slightly. you tugged the boxers down his body, the fabric pooling around spike’s feet. his cock sprung up, slapping softly against his stomach. “fuck,” you sighed airily, your thumb rubbing across his slit, spreading his precum against the tip of his cock.

“shit,” spike hissed, leaning into your touch. one hand hovered one spike’s thigh, softly scratching at the skin. you wrapped your mouth around the tip, sucking gently, spike letting out a loud sigh. your free hand wrapped around the base of spike’s cock, moving up and down his length along with your mouth.

you pulled away from his member, a string of saliva connected to your lips. you grinned up at spike, the man putting a hand over his eyes with a mutter of “you’re trying to fuckin’ kill me,”. you laughed softly, your eyes falling back down to his cock.

you planted your hands on his thigh, mumbling against the tip of his cock, “fuck my throat,”. spike’s breath hitched as he stared down at you, his jaw slack. “please,” you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut in embarrassment. you opened your eyes at the feeling of spike’s thumb brushing across your cheek.

“yeah? open wide then, tongue out,” spike smirked down at you. your tongue lolled out of your mouth, spike’s hands latching into your hair as he inched your mouth down his cock. “fuck,” he drew out the word, “so good,”. your nose brushed against the skin of his pelvis as you gagged around his cock, your nails digging into his thigh.

“fuck,” he groaned, pulling you off of his cock, “looked so pretty choking on my cock,”. tears were forming in your eyes, close to pooling over your lower lid. a string of spit was connected to your mouth as you panted, catching your breath. “want my cum down your throat?” spike asked, already knowing the answer.

you nodded eagerly, planting your hands back on his thighs. “just use me,” you whined, your hand falling into your panties and rubbing at your clit. spike’s hands were back on your hair, your mouth wrapping around his saliva covered member. “shit,” spike groaned, thrusting into your mouth slightly. “just want me to use you, huh?” his voice was shaky now, spike getting closer to his release.

you gagged on his cock, the sound of you choking sounding throughout the room. tears were falling down your cheeks now, your nose slightly runny, but you reveled in it. you loved the sound of spike losing his mind above you, his hands gripping your hair tighter.

“gonna flood your throat-shit-gonna take it all right?” spike moaned. you couldn’t answer, your mouth full of his cock. spike didn’t wait for an answer, his hip thrusting up once as he pushed you against the base of his cock, your nose pushed against the skin of his pelvis. spike’s load burst into your throat as you tried to swallow in time with the spurts.

he pulled you off his cock slightly, only the tip of his cock on your tongue as one of his hands fell to jerk his length. some of his cum dribbled down your chin as you breathed heavily. spike’s hands fell onto the couch next to him, spike throwing his head back. he looked back down at you, your hands in between your legs, your slick covering your fingers.

“i came,” you whimpered softly, bringing your finger to your lips and wrapping your mouth around the digit. spike laughed softly from above you, “so fuckin’ dirty,” he drawled, his fingers collecting the cum from your chin before being pushed into your mouth, your fingers sucking on his digit.

you smiled up at spike once he removed his finger from your mouth, sighing softly before standing up. “get to bed,” you said softly, “we’ve got some money to make tomorrow,”. spike smiled up at you, “drinks tomorrow?” he said, causing you to pause in walking to your bedroom.

you turned to look at him over your shoulder, grinning, “only if you’re paying,”

the crew had collected a decent amount of money from the bounty, the sum being spent between the four of you, and ed received spending money out of each of your amounts.

your newfound--and most likely short-lived--wealth was being spent at the bar, spike sitting on the stool next to you. “another round please,” spike raised his hand slightly, the bartender nodding. your cheek was on your hand, your arm leaning on the countertop as you faced spike.

“you wanna know why i’m such a good kisser,” spike leaned next to your ear, whispering. you laughed softly, raising one eyebrow, “who said you were a good kisser?” you teased. the bartender poured more vodka into your two shot glasses, spike asking for a small bowl of cherries.

“you know i’ll let that dig slide,” he smirked at you, “only cause you look so good,”. you blushed at spike’s words, regaining your composure, “not to bad yourself, spiegel,” you smiled softly. the bartender placed a small glass bowl of cherries next to spike, spike uttering out a short thanks.

“back to my amazing kissing skills,” he said confidently, causing your smile to grow. “watch this,” he said, staring you intently. he took one of the cherries, the stem held in between his thumb and pointer finger. he popped the fruit into his mouth, only the stem held in between his fingers.

“now for the main event,” he smiled, placing the cherry stem on his tongue. he closed his mouth, still staring at you, his eyes twinkling. you could see his cheeks moving, his tongue tying the cherry tongue into a knot.

he stuck his tongue out, his words jumbled, “see? told you,”. spike stuck his tongue back in his mouth as you muttered, “oh shut up,” attaching your lips to his. the kiss took spike by surprise before he melted into it, his hand falling to your waist. you pulled away, smiling at spike before sticking out your tongue, the cherry stem on your tongue. “see?” you drawled, mimicking spike.

the night ended with spike hiking up your dress in one of the bathroom stalls, his cock pushing into your warm walls.

you woke up with a blasting headache, the alcohol from last night coming back in full-swing. you groaned, sitting up in your bed, your head in your hands. begrudgingly, you made your way to the kitchen.

the bebop was unnaturally quiet, ed’s laughter wasn’t sounding throughout the living room, nor was faye’s ridiculing tone. you walked into the kitchen, spike sitting at one of the stools at the island.

“where is everybody?” you asked, pouring yourself coffee from the pot. “jet is at the bank making an investment or some dumb shit like that, faye’s at the casino, and ed,” he paused for a moment, “i don’t know where ed is,”.

you laughed softly, “she always finds her way back here so i’m not too worried,”. you groaned quietly, rubbing at your forehead. “hangover?” spike questioned, to which you nodded. “mrs. cherry stem can’t hold her alcohol then?” spike teased. you just shook your head with a soft smile, “fuck off,” you joked, standing up and opening the kitchen cabinets in search for advil.

“if anything,” you started, finding the advil and popping open the container, “you’re mr. cherry stem, you started that bullshit,”. you put the advil container back away walking over to the stool you were sitting in.

“i thought you’d be glad i started it, i mean from the way you were yelling my name in the bathroom last night,” he raised his voice an octave, taking on a more nasally tone, “spike! spike!”. you shoved him in his shoulder, spike mocking hurt as he clutched his shoulder with a pouted lip.

“you know you really shouldn’t take advil, doesn’t help much,” he said plainly, taking a sip from his coffee. “i have a much better hangover cure,” he proclaimed, standing up from his seat. you couldn’t help but smile as you watched him shuffle around the kitchen, pulling out a multitude of items.

when he had finally gathered everything, he pointed his finger at you, raising and eyebrow as he tried to contain a smile. “now watch very closely, i’ll only teach you this once,”. you laughed softly, raising your hand to your forehead in salute.

“raw egg yolk,” spike said, cracking the egg into a bowl, your upper lip curling in disgust. “bear with me,” he chuckled. he grabbed the yolk with a spoon, separating it from the egg whites. he placed it into the glass, smiling at you.

“pepper,” he said, sprinkling the seasoning from the canister on top of the egg yolk in the glass. “now for my favorite part,” he celebrated, grabbing the bottle of gin, pouring some of the liquid into the glass.

“why do i feel like this is gonna make me more drunk if anything,” you sighed, laying your head on your arms as you watched spike. he smiled, “would that really be that bad?”. you chuckled in response, looking over at spike as he grabbed the hot sauce with a proclamation, “last ingredient!”.

“and there you have it, my speciality, a prairie oyster,” he cheered, pushing the glass over to you. “spike,” you began to complain, drawing out his name. “jus’ try it! it works wonders, promise you,” he reassured you.

“if i die, i’m haunting you in the afterlife,” “i’d welcome it,”. you grabbed the glass, lifting it to your mouth, swallowing the entirety of its substance. “yuck,” you exclaimed after swallowing, sticking out your tongue. “they grow up so fast,” spike teased, causing you to smile over at him.

“you want pancakes?” you asked, standing up from your stool as you moved throughout the kitchen, grabbing pancake mix from the pantry, blueberries from the fridge. “you know me so well,” spike said, standing up after you. he leaned on the wall, watching you mix the pancake batter.

“need some music,” he stated, grabbing his phone. dream by the pied pipers began playing through the speaker of his phone, spike’s arms wrapping around your waist as he nuzzled his face into your neck. “gonna make me burn myself,” you laughed, pouring the batter into the pan.

“dance with me then,” spike said, spinning you around. you gasped before smiling up at him. “may i have this dance?” he joked, curtsying. “you may,” the grin audible in your voice as you held out your hand.

spike grabbed your hand, pulling you close, his hands falling to your waist, your hands latching behind his neck. he hadn’t stopped looking at you, a soft smile still on his face. you shuffled around the kitchen, step-together-step, spike grinning now.

“my pancake’s gonna burn,” you laughed softly, leaning up to give spike a chaste kiss before wiggling out of his hold. you walked over to the stove, grabbing the spatula and flipping the pancake over.

spike’s arms were around your waist once more, spike leaving soft kisses on your exposed shoulder, only a thin tank top strap covering the skin. “so clingy today, spike,” you teased. “jus’ wanna be close,” he mumbled into your skin. “s’alright,” you said softly, your cheeks flushing with heat.

you felt that familiar feeling clutch onto your heart, but you pushed it away, not wanting to recognize what it meant, not wanting to be reminded of its familiarity.

faye’s voice broke you from the comfort of spike’s arms, “hello lovebirds,” she said, walking over to the kitchen island. “faye,” you reprimanded slightly, telling her not to go any further. she just laughed, raising an eyebrow at you as spike now stood further away from you. he paused the music on his phone, his eyes still lingering on your face.

“you can take the first one spike,” you said, placing the blueberry pancake on a plate and handing it to spike.

you were sitting on your bed, your mini yamaha keyboard sitting in front of you. your fingers played different chords as you quietly sung along. a knock on your door broke you from your tranquility as you raised your voice, “come in,”.

the door slid open, spike standing behind it. “hey,” you said, smiling up at him. you hadn’t really talked since this morning, faye interrupting whatever moment was going on between the two of you. maybe it was a good thing that she had interrupted you.

maybe you were getting to attached, maybe this was becoming more than just forgetting. was it more for spike? “y/n, hey,” spike waved his hand in front of your face breaking you from your thoughts. “sorry,” you muttered, “zoned out for a sec, what’d ya need,” you said, patting the bed for spike to sit down.

he sat, tracing his finger across your keyboard, “didn’t know you played,” he said, looking at you intently. “not very well,” you smiled, “plus it’s a mini keyboard, not much i can do with it,” “play something for me,” spike suggested.

“i’m really not very good spi-” “please?” he asked, and you couldn’t help but oblige. your fingers pressed on the simple chords, your voice adding onto the music.

“sweet creature,” you sung softly, “had another talk about where it’s going wrong,”. you continued singing, your fingers pressing the keys in accordance to the notes you were singing. you couldn’t look up at spike, embarrassment consuming you as your eyes remained glued to your keyboard.

unable to cope with the feeling brewing in your stomach, you lifted your hand away from the keyboard. you mustered up the courage to look up at spike, his cheeks flushed a light pink, “y-your voice,” his voice broke for a moment, and you could visibly see him swallow. his voice grew quieter, “it’s really pretty,”.

you both sat there in silence for a moment. you could see the slightest hint of hurt etched on spike’s face, but it wasn’t your room to question why. you just wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug and muttering a “thank you,” into his skin.

you don’t know how long you remained that way, but eventually spike’s arms were clutching onto you, your body acting as his anchor. you were his anchor.

though the two of you had gotten distracted for a moment, spike had originally come into your room to ask if you wanted to go grab something to eat. you now sat in a booth at spike’s favorite ramen restaurant. “s’good huh?” spike smiled as he watched you slurp up noodles.

“why have i never been invited here before?” you chastised jokingly, “can’t believe you would hide something like this from me,” you said dramatically, grabbing more noodles with your chopsticks. “i’ll only come here with you from now on,” spike promised. you couldn’t help the way your heartbeat quickened at his words.

“they give free matcha ice cream after the meal too,” spike added. you dropped your chopsticks into your bowl, looking over at spike with a smile. “i think i’m in heaven,” you reasoned, spike laughing softly.

spike had asked for the ice cream to go, and the pair of you now walked around the city center, matcha ice creams in hand. you pointed out a boutique, you and spike walking inside. the store was full of jewelry, candles, and other random items. you scanned through the rings sitting in a jewelry case.

your eye fell on a green aventurine ring, the jewel grabbing your attention.”the green one?” spike asked, turning towards you. you looked at him with a raised eyebrow, a soft smile on your face, “how’d you know?” you asked, looking back down at the ring.

“suits you,” he said, his shoulder brushing against yours, “get it,”. you shook your head, turning to look around the store, “blew most of my bounty money already, shouldn’t spend anymore,” you reasoned. “did i say you’d be paying?” spike said, almost as though it puzzled him that you thought you’d pay for your own ring.

“spike, i can’t let you d-” “quit being stubborn, grab the ring,” he interrupted, walking towards the cash register. you grabbed the ring, quickly following behind him. the cashier rang it up with a mumble of, “7 dollars and 37 cents”. spike handed her a 10 dollar bill before grabbing your hand and leading you out of the store.

he grabbed your hand, slipping the ring on your pointer finger, “s’pretty,” he murmured, looking back up at your face. “yeah,” you said softly, and before your brain could catch up, you were wrapping your arms around his body and pulling him in for a hug.

“thank you,” you mumbled into spike’s chest, the giving a short hum in answer.

though cacri had been a beautiful planet, you were glad to be somewhere with a beautiful beach. hot, white sand that toasted the soles of your feet, almost crystal clear water. you were lounging in a beach chair, an umbrella over your face. you were reading an old play titled blithe spirit, you had picked it up from a bookstore after the ramen date with spike.

you reasoned that you shouldn’t call it a date, feelings already being designated as non-acceptable. you sighed, pushing your sunglasses onto your hair. though spike was the reason for your inner turmoil, you couldn’t help but watch him splash ed with water.

he had a huge grin on his face, and you could hear his laughter. your eyes raked further down his body, pausing on his abdomen before you turned your attention back to your book.

“you brought food right,” you heard spike’s voice, lifting your head as you saw him jogging towards you. ‘mhm’ you nodded, leaning over your chair and tapping on the picnic basket.

“ohh yum,” spike cheered, pulling out the container of chocolate covered strawberries. “want one?” he said, holding the fruit out to you. you accepted with a smile, biting down on the chocolate covered delicacy. a small amount of juice dribbled down your chin, spike laughing softly at you.

“always so messy,” he sighed, his thumb collecting the strawberry juice before bringing the digit to his tongue and lifting it up. you could feel the heat in your cheeks, that familiar tingle spreading throughout your body.

“bathing suit’s pretty on you,” he complimented, his eyes raking over your figure with a smirk. he bit the chocolate covered strawberry whole, placing the remains on the cover of the container.

“thanks for the snack,” spike grinned, running back down towards the shoreline. jet groaned from beside you, flipping over onto his back.

“you guys disgust me,” he grumbled.

jet and ed walked back to jet’s ship with calls of, “see you back on the ship,”. faye had spent the day at the casino, and you teased her slightly for it earlier in the morning when she discussed her plans for the day.

you and spike had crammed into his ship for the beach trip, and you found yourself attempting to stuff towels and a picnic basket into the tight area. eventually, you both were seated, spike’s ship lifting off.

“heard this song the other day,” spike said, looking at you for a second before focusing his attention back in front of him. “search up hey lover by daughter’s of eve,” he said, tilting his head towards his phone that sat in the center console of the ship.

you grabbed the device, typing in the song title. music flooded the speakers of spike’s ship as you smiled at his head bobbing along to the beat. “hey hey hey lover,” spike sung off pitch, causing you to laugh softly.

he smiled over at you, “s’ earth music,” he said, turning the volume down slightly. “from the 1960s or something, long time ago,�� “s’neat,” you smiled over at him. spike’s hand fell back to the volume nozzle, the music growing louder once more.

spike’s hand grabbed yours causing you to gasp softly. he closed your hand into a fist, using it as a makeshift microphone as he continued to sing off-key. “focus on getting us back to the bebop,” you laughed softly, pulling your hand from his hold.

you sought out comfort from spike, your hand grabbing his. you soon realized the gravity of your actions, planning to pull away, but spike’s hand softly squeezed yours. you let your hands rest latched together on the center console as the moon began its ascent in the night sky.

spike had come into your room that night, his body snuggling against yours under the cover. your soft breaths became synchronized as his arm wrapped around your midsection, the pair of you drifting off into sleep

that morning when you woke up, spike was no longer next to you.

you couldn’t help but wonder what you had done wrong. did he realize you had fallen in love with him? did you even realize it? you shook away the thoughts, getting into your ship.

spike had ignored you the entirety of the day, rushing out of the kitchen once he had seen you. you had decided that you needed some weed, something to calm you down. you were using it as a coping mechanism. you hadn’t gotten high in a while, most of your time spent with spike.

you had blanked out the entire flight there, your brain on autopilot. you set your ship down, pushing open the door as you stepped out of your ship. the bell on the dispensary door rang, the cashier giving you a soft wave which you returned with a smile. you grabbed rolling paper, and a small bag of bud, the cashier totaling the amount.

“thanks,” you said softly, pushing open the door. you walked back to your ship, your mind flooded with images of spike, overrun with worries. on a lighter note, the planet you were on for this next bounty was actually one you had been to before.

there was a beautiful lookout area that you had gone to with faye, and in no rush to return to the bebop, you set your destination for the lookout spot.

you had only been at the lookout for about 30 minutes when you felt the first drop of rain hit your skin. “fuck,” you grumbled. you set the joint down onto the dirt, stepping on it before you rushed into your ship. the rain was hitting the windshield, your ship lifting off as you headed back to the bebop.

the rain seemed to worsen as you got closer to the bebop, the raindrops hitting your windshield sounding like pellets. you set your ship down on the landing strip of the bebop, groaning at the thought of having to rush inside. you prepared yourself for the feeling of the cold rain on your skin, pushing open the door of your ship.

you yelped slightly, rushing down the landing strip and towards the entrance gate, which to your surprise, was already open. a figure was rushing towards you, and you soon made it out to be spike. the ship had been set down in the water for the night, close to the harbor, the lamplights from the sidewalk lighting up spike’s face.

“where were you,” he yelled as he rushed over to you. “you didn’t care earlier,” you grumbled walking towards the entrance of the bebop. spike grabbed your hand, turning you back towards him. “i was worried about you,” he yelled over the sound of the rain, and you couldn’t tell if tears were forming in your eyes or if it was just the rain.

“yeah?” you yelled, your voice shaky, “all i’ve been doing all fucking day is worrying about you!” you ennunciated the last word with a jab to his chest. the rain was still coming down hard, your eyes squinting. “i can’t-” your voice hiccuped, your throat feeling tighter, “c-can’t do this anymore, spike,”.

spike eyes remained at you, his bottom lip under his upper one. “it was jus’ to forget right?” you continued at spike’s silence, “so it doesn’t matter,”. you turned back walking towards the entrance once more.

“wasn’t to forget,” spike yelled over the rain, walking towards you as you paused your movements. “i-i was so scared this morning,” his voice quieted for a moment and you had to lean in to hear him. “you were humming something in your sleep, some tune,” he paused, looking down at the floor.

“every thing reminded me of her, every whistle i heard along to the melody of a song, every hum along to a certain tune,” he was looking at you now. “b-but for once, th-this wasn’t her anymore. i didn’t think about her,” spike’s voice broke.

“it was only you,” he finished. you responded in the only way you saw acceptable, your hands planting on spike’s cheek as you pulled him in for a kiss. “s’ only been you,” spike mumbled into your lips. “only you,” you mumbled back. the kiss grew more passionate before you both pulled away, breathless. “

“i’m sorry,” he said, pulling you into him, your face pressing against the wet fabric of his shirt. “just want you,” you hiccuped, tears falling down your face now. “i’m not leaving,” spike reassured you.

the rain cascaded over your bodies, the memories of a past love washing away along with it. as the sky cleared, the moon marked the creation of new memories. new love blossomed with the dew.

#cowboy bebop smut #cowboy bebop imagine #cowboy bebop fic #cowboy bebop x reader #spike smut #spike imagine #spike fic #spike x reader #spike spiegel smutt #spike spiegel imagine #spike spiegel fic #spike spiegel x reader #smut #imagine

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maatryoshkaa · 4 years

Text

young god | chapter 12

serial killer!han jisung au

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | epilogue |

word count: 4.5k

warnings: descriptions of violence, foul language, allusions to trauma and mental illness

description: Prosecutor Kim Seungmin faces pressures from his coworkers about the serial killer case. When Jisung wakes up next to you, remorse and doubt sends him back onto the streets, where one wrong decision finally leads to him doing the one thing he had feared above all.

watch the trailer here!

12| point of no return.

“Well, well, well — look what the cat dragged in.”

Kim Seungmin winced at the sound of Prosecutor Kang’s haughty voice as soon as he stepped into the office. The older prosecutor’s words had made all the others look up from their desks, directing several pairs of eyes onto the younger man, who was actively trying his best not to tuck his head down and fold in on himself to avoid their scrutiny. To Seungmin’s dismay, Kang continued speaking.

“If it isn’t our newest prosecutor. How are you holding up, Kim? I heard there have been more attacks — a witness, even. Shameful, really, how they had to call a lockdown just to keep things under control.”

Seungmin swallowed a lump in his throat, forcing his jaw to unclench. “We’ve—been actively gathering evidence.” While it was true — Chan and Woojin had called him to the precinct in the middle of the night to preserve witness statements, and he’d spent the last few days searching through Miroh Heights for clues — the words sounded incredibly lame nonetheless. Sure enough, Kang snorted, and a few other prosecutors shifted uncomfortably.

“What kind of evidence, Kim? Enlighten me.”

“The suspicion has been placed on Miroh Heights’ students after interviewing the last witness. And we have reason to suspect that the perpetrator is mentally unstable, or at least harbours some sort of...trauma, due to the erratic selection of their victims.” Seungmin cleared his throat, hoping his voice didn’t sound as nervous as he felt. He had only repeated what he’d theorised together with Chan and Woojin, after all.

“I’m just finding it strange — embarrassing, really — how it seems like you’re getting everything handed to you, Prosecutor Kim, and yet you’re still taking this long to reach a verdict.” Kang raised an eyebrow. “Seems to me you're hesitant? Indecisive, or uncertain?”

“Beginner’s nerves, perhaps?” One woman piped up, and a few workers around her stifled their chuckles.

Seungmin clenched his fists, hoping the others couldn’t see. “Dealing with a mentally unstable serial killer calls for a different approach, Kang. We have to keep into consideration how accountable they are to be held for their actions, and—”

“There is no room for a wavering heart in prosecution,” Kang interrupted coldly, his eyes two black daggers. “What you think is being kind or empathetic is a weakness, kid. Focus on the incriminating evidence, not the humanity in the perpetrator — after all,” he gave a leer, “anyone who murders humans is a monster — and monsters deserve to be punished, don’t you think?”

There were a few murmurs of agreement, and Seungmin ripped his gaze from Prosecutor Kang’s expectant face.

“I assure you, that is what I intend to do.” With that, Seungmin brushed past Prosecutor Kang, suddenly grateful that his office was further down the hallway. The woman who had tried speaking up for him on his first day flashed him a sympathetic look as he passed, but it only made him feel worse. Was he really that...weak? Incompetent?

If catching this killer and condemning them was what it took to get Prosecutor Kang off his back, then that was exactly what Seungmin would do. He shut the door to his office, a bit harder than he meant to, and opened his briefcase on his desk, organizing his notes.

It was time to hunt a killer.

━━━━━━━━

All was quiet when Jisung awoke, eyes blinking as they opened and adjusted to the hazy morning light. He was in a room with off-white ceilings and walls, and the dusty blue curtains were open, fluttering lightly from a soft breeze. His even breathing filled the air — for the first time in what seemed like forever, he hadn’t had nightmares. His eyes wandered to the windows, wincing slightly — it was a cloudy day, the kind where looking at the grey sky stung his eyes. Aside from the light wind, the room was absolutely still. Almost as if it was holding its breath.

Jisung turned to the side, freezing when he saw your sleeping face next to him. You were sleeping with no pillow, and Jisung realised with a sharp pang of guilt that you had placed the only one on the bed under his head instead. He slowly slid his palm beneath your cheek, lifting your head as gently as he could before pushing the pillow between you and the mattress instead. You immediately buried your face into the softer fabric, still fully asleep, and Jisung chuckled. For a long moment, he gazed down at your sleeping figure, a bittersweet warmth spreading in his chest. Before he could stop himself, he leaned down and pressed his lips to your forehead, eyes momentarily closing.

Jisung felt your hand reach up for him and he pulled away slightly, worried that he’d woken you. When he saw that your eyes were still shut, chest rising and falling in a slow, peaceful rhythm, he let out a breath of relief. Your fingers grazed his shoulder and there was a slight furrow beginning to form in your brow, and suddenly he was reminded of the previous night — when you had looked at him with the same confused, horrified expression; when you had instinctively pushed him away, looking ready to run.

He looked down at you now, gut twisting as he frowned — were you having nightmares? Were they—were they about him? Memories flooded his mind from last night: him running back to your apartment; your face, twisted with disbelief and horror; all the things he had ended up telling you. Each memory sent a wave of panic through him, a cold sweat beginning to form at the back of his neck. Jisung pulled away, sitting up and burying his head in his hands.

What had he done?

All he could think about was the way you had looked at him when you had first found out — the betrayal, fear, raw pain scrawled across your features. That was what you thought of the real him — wasn’t it? Your shaking hands, wavering pupils, the tears brimming in your eyes — the images kept flashing in his mind, patching themselves over the memories of your laugh, the way your entire face would light up, your reddened cheeks and ears when you got embarrassed.

They were all as good as lost once he’d told you the truth.

Even though you had let him sit down, let him stay — he swore he caught the way you stiffened slightly beneath his touch, the way you had begun avoiding his gaze. And when you did look at him — it was like he was a ticking time bomb.

Jisung slid off the bed onto his feet. Instinctively, he began pacing, his heart pounding louder and louder with every step. His chest was closing up again, the floor was beginning to spin, the thoughts were all too, too much. With one hand still clasped around his head, he bolted out of the bedroom and down the hall, coming to an unsteady halt when he reached the living room. Jisung’s vision spun, a wave of nausea inching up his throat as his gaze landed on the vase of peach coloured roses sitting on the coffee table.

He seized the vase and brought the flowers closer to his face. They were the ones he had bought on your first date. A short laugh pushed through his lips, and even the subtle twitch of a tentative smile tugging at his cheeks felt painful.

“First date, kid?” The florist had a lopsided grin on her face, already reaching for the shelves of rose bouquets behind her.

“Um, yeah. I—I don’t want...red roses, though. Do you have, um, anything else?” Jisung watched the florist’s brow furrow at his words.

“Hm. Roses are a classic go-to, kid, but...ah!” Her face lit up, snapping her fingers as she reached for a different bouquet. “These are much prettier, in my opinion. Peach roses!”

Jisung took the bouquet from her curiously as she continued, “Red might come off a little strong ‘n cliche, yeah? So the peach hue makes ‘em look softer. The colour symbolises strength and resilience, so here’s to wishing you and your lucky girl a love that stands the tests of time, hm?”

They were nearly all wilted now, the edges shrivelled and the leaves drooping. But the scent dripping from the petals was heavy, so thick it seemed to make his legs buckle from dizziness. Jisung set the vase back down too hard and it struck the corner of the coffee table, wobbling precariously, and before Jisung could reach out to catch it the vase toppled over the edge and shattered against the floor.

The crash that rang through your silent apartment sounded deafening, and Jisung whipped his gaze towards the bedroom where you were sleeping. Dried petals and glass were splayed across his feet as he stumbled back, his heel snagging painfully on a thorn. His blood was roaring in his ears as he held his breath, expecting you to wake up at any second. But a minute passed, then another, and Jisung finally tore his gaze away, fists unclenching slightly.

You don’t belong here.

The words rang in his head, an incessant throb that grew stronger with every heartbeat. Every part of him was screaming at Jisung to run — to leave behind the mess he had already made before it was too late; before the police found him with you, before he could hurt you any more than he already had—and with that last fear pounding through his skull, Jisung slipped on his shoes, threw open the front door, and broke into a run.

You don’t belong here. Get out. Get out. GET. OUT.

The clouds were stitching themselves together over the hazy sun when he sprinted outside, casting a dark grey shadow over the entire city. Jisung’s mind was racing as he ducked into the first alleyway he saw, narrowly missing a police cruiser that had turned around the corner onto your street. Where could he go? The dorms? Another cafe? He risked another glance out onto the main street, heart sinking at the sheer amount of officers patrolling the road. He shook his head. He had to get away — where, exactly, he wasn’t sure — but he needed to get out of Miroh Heights.

Jisung darted down backstreets and alleyways, growing increasingly aware of the rumbling of thunder overhead and the light droplets of rain beginning to splatter onto his skin. When he reached a narrow strip between two brick buildings, a strange feeling of deja vu sent a chill trickling down his spine. Shaking the feeling off, Jisung pushed through the path, eyes fixed on the wavering sliver of gray light at its end—until the alleyway opened up into the familiar back parking lot of a diner.

Mia’s Diner.

The toe of Jisung’s shoe caught on the uneven gravel and he stopped running, chest heaving. Of all the shortcuts he could have chosen, this one had lead him all the way back here. To his relief, he noticed the lot was relatively secluded—the back of the diner and a tall stack of Dumpsters hid him from the main street, while a thicket of trees and the two buildings that had formed the alleyway closed up the space behind him. Even in the growing fog, he could spot the diner’s bright neon sign on the roof.

His gaze wandered towards the diner’s windows, which were glowing like a row of dim eyes. The tables were empty, a bored waitress sipping a milkshake by the counter with her back turned. His eyes landed on the window side booth from your first date. Your first date, what felt like an eternity ago.

“O-oh, hi! You’re…”

“Jisung. Han Jisung.”

It had been raining that day, too, hadn’t it? Sheets of water that had swept the streets, soaked his shoes, and nearly torn the heads off the roses he’d bought on the way. And when the storm had cleared in the evening, the way the sunset had bathed the city in gold. A small smile tugged at his lips, vision fogging over at the memory. Your warm touch on his cheek. Your tentative fingers in his hair.

The warmth turned ice cold as soon as he spotted a familiar alley in the corner of his eye, and like a stormcloud splitting wide open, all the uglier memories began spilling out instead. The brick walls that felt like they were closing in on him, the prostitute’s catlike eyes, the choking darkness of an unkept, one-bedroom bungalow, fresh, hot blood spilling onto his hands and vodka flames licking at his feet—

“Han Jisung!”

The unfamiliar voice pulled Jisung out of his thoughts. A group of male students had come around the diner, a stocky boy with a buzzcut at their head. Jisung narrowed his eyes, clenching his fists involuntarily. He had seen them before, somewhere — a club, perhaps, or a late-night party…

“That’s cold, man — aren’t you gonna greet your old friends?” The boy with the buzzcut stopped just short of a metre from Jisung — too close for his liking — and spat on Jisung’s shoes.

“Kid’s been off in the head since the orphanage,” a taller boy with dirty blond hair that fell to his chin grinned. “Isn’t that so?”

Something in the back of Jisung’s mind clicked and he squinted in the growing darkness, eyes focusing on their faces. The orphanage. The other boys he and Minho had grown up with. After they’d all been released from the children’s home, Jisung had seen a few of them in passing — some had barely managed to get into college, while most of the others had dropped altogether and lingered around the town like parasites.

Jisung lifted his gaze back to the stocky boy’s face, a humourless chuckle escaping his lips. His former classmates shifted nervously.

“Fucking psycho,” someone behind the boy muttered.

“Well, that’s what he is, isn’t he?” The blond boy continued, a sneer growing on his crusted lips. He had a hand shoved into his pockets, and Jisung heard the sound of something metal clinking—a lighter? “Remember what they say brought him to the orphanage?” He took a step closer to Jisung, lowering his voice. “Arson. Patricide.”

“Get away from me,” Jisung breathed, his throat dry. The ringing in his ears was growing more and more high pitched with every second, and his limbs felt stiff — as if he could will himself to stay still, to stay in control.

“Is it true, then? You killed your old man and set his corpse on fire? Is that your dirty little secret?” The boy with the buzzcut jerked his head towards the distant screeching sirens on the main street. “Are those because of you, too?”

Dead silence fell between them, the gang’s mocking smiles boring into him. The boy with the buzzcut tilted his head, snorting when Jisung only stared back at him.

“Forget it. There’s no way he’s the serial killer.” A third boy behind them spoke, his eyes raking Jisung up and down in a leer. “Looks like he’s about to piss his pants — probably can’t throw a punch to save his life. He’s a runner, that’s what he is.”

The blond boy laughed, fingers jabbing at Jisung’s shoulder and pushing him back. “You’re right about that one. Han Jisung, always running away. Just like your momma, yeah? Momma’s boy.” At that, Jisung’s gaze flickered up to meet the blond boy’s, eyes narrowing in wary confusion.

“What? Your momma always ran from your old man, didn’t she? Didn’t how how to do anything else. And every time your old man beat her bloody...” the boy with the buzzcut reached for Jisung’s lowered head, ruffling his hair and snickering when Jisung flinched away. “You ran away from her, too, yeah?”

Jisung froze, his fingers numb. He had been clenching his fists so tightly the blood circulation was cut off, his hands beginning to tremble as a horribly familiar ache pulsed in his temples. But before he could bring himself to move, the boy with the buzzcut suddenly tightened his grip on Jisung’s hair, yanking his head back hard.

“Fuckin’ mute bastard’s pissing me off. Try running now, Han.”

A fist came out of nowhere and smashed into the side Jisung’s jaw. He flew backwards, the back of his head slamming into hard gravel. For a moment, his vision went black, before coming back in fuzzy, burning flashes. His eyes had already been watering — both from his headache and the boy’s harsh grip on his hair — and just as Jisung was blinking the sand from his eyes he felt a foot crash into his ribs and knock the air straight out of his lungs.

Jisung could barely hear their taunts over his own choked coughing, his fingers scrabbling through the dusty ground as he tried to pull himself up. Pain coursed through his bones like liquid fire, sending waves of nausea shooting up his gut and black spots dancing across his vision.

“Shit, it’s like hitting a little girl,” the boy with the buzzcut muttered. “C’mon, Han, put some fight into it, will ya?” He dropped down into a squat until they were nearly face to face, his squinty eyes twisted into a permanent sneer. “Pretend I’m your old man or someth—”

Jisung’s hand shot out, seizing the front of the boy’s shirt. He saw the sneer freeze on the boy’s face for a split second before Jisung drove his fist into the boy’s nose.

“Fffuckin’ hell!” The boy toppled back screaming, blood beginning to spurt from his face as he scrambled away frantically. One boy wearing a letterman jacket immediately moved to push Jisung back down. Hooking a foot around the boy’s legs, Jisung kicked hard and brought the boy crashing down to the ground. He pulled himself back to his feet shakily, reddening vision scanning the remaining boys that were closing in on him.

“Now you’re asking for it, kid,” the blond boy growled, grabbing Jisung’s collar. Before he could register the blond boy’s fingers curling into a fist, a hot flash of pain flared across Jisung’s cheekbone and his head snapped to the side. When Jisung turned his head back, locks of his own hair fell into his eyes, beads of sweat beginning to make them stick to his brow.

Another punch, then another, then another. Jisung could feel cuts splitting open on his cheeks and lips, as if his blood was demanding to be let out. A smile began stretching across his bruised lips, growing wider and wider with every blow. Jisung had lost count by the time the blond boy stopped momentarily, breathing hard, beady blue eyes searching Jisung’s face.

“The fuck?” His chest was heaving as he shook Jisung like a ragdoll. The younger boy was beginning to laugh — his hair obscured most of his face, revealing only bloodstained teeth. “Are you—you a fuckin’ psycho or somethin’?”

The laughter ripping from his vocal chords felt more like sobs; as soon as the first one rolled off his tongue Jisung couldn’t stop the rest from bubbling up his throat. The blond knocked his head to the side again before jamming his fingers into Jisung’s forehead. “Hey, freak. I asked you a question.”

Jisung’s eyes were hazy, his face throbbed, the boy’s finger felt like a knifepoint in his skin.

“If you ever speak a word of this to your mother, boy, I’ll ram that camera right into your skull.”

This felt familiar.

He shook his hair out of his face and stared straight into the blond’s eyes. “You want me to pretend you’re my father?”

For a moment the blond boy’s grin faltered, a flash of fear skipping across his pupils, but Jisung barely noticed. His hands shot out, seizing the blond by the throat in a horribly familiar chokehold. The boy cried out in silent surprise, losing his balance, and Jisung took the chance to force him all the way backwards into the diner’s brick wall. The sickening crack when the boy’s skull hit the bricks seemed to send a shudder into Jisung’s hands and body, and the high pitched ringing in his ears finally snapped.

Pure red poured into his vision as he threw punch after punch, pinning the taller boy to the wall. Jisung couldn’t tell if the screaming was the boy’s, or his, or both — or if there was any screaming at all; all he could hear was his own pounding heartbeat. Somewhere, in the back of his head, a small voice was begging for him to stop, but it grew weaker and weaker with every blow.

FATHER. FATHER. FATHER.

He felt hands grabbing at his shoulders as one boy tried to pull him back and Jisung whirled back momentarily, kicking him in the chest. The blond was beginning to grow limp, each hit feeling more and more like Jisung was punching a bag of wet rocks. Jisung felt a distant, stinging pain in his abdomen as he finally let the boy slide to the ground in a broken heap, and vaguely registered a spot of dark blood spreading across his own shirt. His shaky pupils fell on the unconscious boy’s hands, which were clutching a metal switchblade, its tip smeared with blood — Jisung’s blood.

So that had been the metallic sound from earlier. At some point—Jisung couldn’t recall when—the boy must have tried to stab him before he finally fell unconscious.

There were three of them left — four, if you counted the boy with buzzcut hair, bleeding out on the ground from his broken nose. Head buzzing, Jisung leaned down to scoop the blade from the boy’s limp hands as the rest of them closed in.

Jisung could barely see what he was doing; it had begun to rain, clouds casting inky darkness around them despite it being noon. The rain tasted sour as it mixed with foreign blood, the flash of the knife the only light visible. He could no longer hear the words that they were screaming as he buried the blade into every surface that came near him; all he could see were scenes from that day. It was like he had been swallowed back into the nightmare, his gut twisting like he had been thrown over the edge of a cliff and was hurtling towards the ground. His mother’s blood pooling over slivers of splintered wood, her pleading eyes, the water boiling over in the kitchen, the glass shards carving the hellish memories into the soles of his bare feet. It was his father — his father again, trying to kill them, trying to kill them all, and Jisung was fighting back. His father’s red face — or was it the boys’ terrified faces? The glint of his father’s lighter, or the shining tears of pain from the boy whose bones he was breaking? It was horrible — or was it was exhilarating?—and everything Jisung could see was red, red, endless red.

He didn’t know when they had all ended up on the ground, the last conscious boy trembling feebly beneath him. The tiniest voice echoed in his ears as he brought the knife down again and again in terrible arcs, the warm spurts of blood onto his face feeling like a demon’s caress.

So this is what it feels like to be a monster.

Jisung was shuddering, fingers slippery with blood and rain. His ears felt as though they were underwater, a muffled voice beginning to echo through the haze.

“Ji...Ji…”

He shook his head wildly, eyes cloudy with water, but the voice persisted. It was getting louder now, growing clearer and clearer, as if it was dragging him back up from the darkness.

“Ji...sung. Jisung?”

Was the voice calling for him? The ground felt shaky beneath Jisung’s knees. He had lost his grip on the knife, his tremulous fingers tightening around the sharp blade and sending dull pain searing through his skin. He was going too far — it was too much, it was all too much — he needed to calm down, he needed an anchor to reality, he needed to be back in control before it was too late —

“...sungie? J-Jisung?”

Feeling like his hand wasn’t his own, Jisung whirled around, switchblade swinging across his blurred vision in a terrible arc, and plunged the knife into a mass of darkness.

The moment he made impact, the cloudiness in his head began to clear away, the numbness leaving his body like venom had been sucked clean from his veins. Jisung let out a shuddering breath. He had done it, it was over, something — or someone had pulled him out of the nightmare. The rain was falling harder now, a crack of lightning flashing over the puddles around him, but all was quiet as his eyes focused in the hazy darkness.

Eerily quiet, save for a muffled, shaky gasp of pain that made Jisung lift his gaze from the bloodstained gravel up to —

You.

“Y-Y/N?” His own voice sounded raw, as if he’d been screaming for hours. “What are...w-why are you...here?” You were staring back at him with impossibly wide eyes, and he realised one of your hands had been clutching his arm. It was already beginning to shake as you pulled it back towards your chest, and you looked down. Time seemed to stop as Jisung’s brow furrowed in confusion, and he slowly followed the line of your gaze.

All the way to the switchblade buried deep in your chest.

“H-how did that—w-what happ—” Jisung looked down, breaking off when he saw the pools of blood welling in his palms and soaking the front of his shirt. “N-no. I—Did I—”

The sight of your face left him speechless, another flash of lightning reflecting off the stunned tears that were falling from your eyes. Your expression mirrored his own — frozen in equal parts surprise and agony — but what wrenched Jisung’s heart was the complete absence of anger on your face.

Mouth slightly parted, you slowly shook your head, and Jisung felt a sudden, sharp pain twist his chest as if he’d been the one stabbed in the heart. Thunder rumbled above and as he opened his mouth to call your name, just as your eyes rolled back and you fell with a dull thud onto the soaked pavement.

“N-no. Don’t do this, not again, I c-can’t—”

The wind was howling in Jisung’s ears. He was screaming your name like it was the only thing he had ever learned but his head was pounding again, and it was like he had been thrust back underwater again, unable to hear his own voice. The rain was plummeting in torrents, as if the sky had been split wide open with an axe, the fat drops cutting at his bruised cheeks like shards of broken glass. The wail of police sirens was growing closer and closer, and suddenly,Jisung was ten years old again — cradling the last thing he had loved in a growing pool of blood, sobs racking through his body like gunshots.

Crimson was blooming rapidly through the front of your shirt. The neon lights of the diner burned at the corner of his eye, and a faint, warm memory echoed in the back of his mind.

“Least favourite colour?”

“Red.”

“W-well, it’s a good thing I’m not wearing red, then, huh?”

“No. No, I’m sure you would still look pretty in red.”

Red. It was everywhere; his shaking pupils took in the blood soaking your clothes, staining your skin, running from his fingers into your hair.

No, he decided in that moment; you looked absolutely, horrifically, bad in red.

━━━━━━━━

Maybe it was the sirens wailing all throughout Miroh Heights, painting the streets in blurs of blue and red. Or maybe it was the thunderstorm pounding on the windows of the hospital all day, as if it was crying out for a lost love. Nobody could say why, exactly, for certain.

But that night, somewhere in the heart of the city, Yang Jeongin opened his eyes for the first time in three months.

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samcrobae · 4 years

Text

Nanny, Part 3

Gif Credit: @angels-reyes

Another long one babies, but stay with me! The good stuff is comin! 😈 if I missed you in my tags please message me and let ya girl know. ❤️

——————————————-

After you all came back from the beach Letty stopped you in the kitchen. “Hey Y/N, what are you doing today?”

You were currently making a snack for Natalie who was patiently playing on the floor literally at your side. “I guess just hang out here, I mean whatever everyone else wants to do is fine with me.”

“Lame, hey wanna go shopping? There’s a mall not that from here I already googled it.” She picked up her phone and shows you the screen.

“Okay sure, let me just let Angel know I’m taking Natalie. One sec.” you walk over to the living room where Angel was sat and place an arm on his shoulder and he instinctively brings his hand up to rest on yours. “Hey Letty and I were going to head to the mall, do some shopping so I’m taking Natalie with.”

He lays his head back on the couch and looks up at you, “Nah leave her with me. You’re not on the clock querida, have fun.”

You and Letty grab your things and head out. EZ was in the living room with Angel coloring with Natalie and she was force feeding him some of her snacks. Just then EZ’s phone went off and it was a text from Letty.

“Ok go! Our plan starts now.”

“So what’s going on with you and Y/N?”

Angel looked confused, “what do you mean? I don’t know man you’re the one who told me to bring her here.”

EZ rolled his eyes, “yeah but I mean, are you gonna ask her out? Apparently she’s been talking about it with Letty non stop. She’s been all like when is angel finally gonna ask me out? Angels so cute blah blah and we all know you have a thing for her. We saw you in the water today.”

Angel cocked an eyebrow in his brothers direction. “Yo can you stop eating my kids food? You guys didn’t see shit today in the water. We were all in the water messing around..... she said that? She really wants me to ask her out? Like on a date or some shit?”

EZ nodded his head “yeah I mean not some shit but a date. You know she’s lowkey she won’t say anything about it especially not to you. I say go for it. She’s a good girl Angel.”

“Man shut up..” angel leaned back against the couch and thought for a while before finally speaking up again “hey you think you could keep an eye on Natalie tonight?”

“Yeah of course” just then EZ pulled his phone out and sent a text to Letty.

“Alright he’s in. I’m pretty sure he’s going to ask her out tonight. Also we have to baby sit Natalie. It’s all you now. Don’t mess it up.”

Smiling at her phone Letty looked up at the outfit you had on. “Daaaaaamn girl! Yes! You need to get that. Like now. Wait til Angel sees you in this, he’s going to lose his shit!”

You snapped your head back so fast “wait Angel? Why would Angel care?”

“Oh come on, the man is basically swooning over you. It’s kinda nauseating. We all see how he looks at you and all he talks about with Coco is how he so badly wishes you’d give him a chance, how he wants to ask you out but you’d never want to go out with a guy like him.”

You furrowed your brows and smoothed your outfit over your curves while looking in the mirror. “He really said that? That’s not true. Angel’s amazing. He’s so kind, gentle, smart, he’s such a good dad and he’s so funny.” Your mind trailed off to all of the other things you wanted to say .. how he was so sexy, how he gave you butterflies just at the mention of your name, how delicious his lips looked, how intoxicating his scent was. How all you wanted to do was grip his biceps while you grind your hips into him..

“Helllooooo.... are you even listening to me?” Letty snaps her fingers in your face.

“Sorry what?”

“You need the outfit. Get it!”

————————————————-

“Damn what you guys do buy the whole mall?” Coco notices the many bags in your hands as you head inside.

“A little retail therapy never hurt no one coco” you said as you winked at him. Heading into your room to put your things down, you heard a knock at the door and was surprised to see Angel on the other end.

“Oh hey, what’s up? Everything okay?” You studied Angels face and suddenly your heart began to ache at the thought of Angel thinking he wasn’t enough.

“Yeah, you wanna get something to eat? I never really thanked you for coming over in the middle of the night the other day.”

“Oh, Angel you don’t have to-”

“Nah come on, I already asked EZ to watch Natalie for a bit, I saw this Italian place on the way here. Be ready by 7.” He walked away quickly leaving you no room to protest.

7 came quick. You did a once over in the mirror and tussled your hair before feeling satisfied and walked out into the living room. Coco and Angel were in conversation when Coco looked in your direction, eyes wide, slapping Angel on the chest. Angel glanced up and did a double take before swallowing hard. “Fuck meeeee” he whispered. The outfit you bought earlier today was turning heads in every direction.

“Ready?” You ask Angel who looks absolutely flustered.

“Yeah yeah, let’s go.” As you turn to walk away Cocos eyes travel to your ass. Angel notices and delivers a quick jab to his stomach “stop asshole.”

———————————————

Dinner was amazing, the place was a little upscale so you were glad you were dressed appropriately. You couldn’t help but notice the prices next to everything and kicked yourself for letting him take You here and not somewhere more laid back.

“So..... ice cream?” Angel asked as you both got up to leave the restaurant. You smiled that warm smile, the one that made him feel like putty in your hands “ugh yes! Ice cream!”

You found an ice cream spot along the beach front and decided to go with a banana split to share.

Angel looked at you for a few seconds before finally breaking the silence, “So, what about you?”

You look over at him “me? What about me?”

“You want kids one day?”

“Oh, yeah. I want a bunch of em,” you chuckle before continuing on, “like 3, maybe 4. I grew up with a small family. Parents were shit and I have a sister but uhhhh.. we were never really close. So I want my kids to have the best parents and have each other when I’m gone. Make those memories you know? What about you? Do you want to have anymore some day?”

Angel took a bite of the banana split before passing you the bowl. “I don’t know. I never really thought about it. My life is fucked up and crazy as it is.. and it’s just me and Natalie. If I ever find someone crazy and fucked up as me, then maybe.”

You looked down at the sand and asked the question you had been wanting to ask for 4 long months, “so, your ex, Natalie’s mom, what happened?”

“Shit I don’t know. We were engaged, then pregnant, then we had Natalie and it all just fell apart. I started working a lot and she spent a lot of time with pop and the baby, and one day she just left and never came back. Left me. Left our kid. I haven’t heard from her since. Man and I didn’t know what I was doing it was all fucked up. I still can’t even take care of my kid without someone’s help. Sad huh?”

You put the now empty bowl of ice cream on the sand and placed your hand over Angels. “Nope. Not at all. For what it’s with Angel, I think you’re an incredible dad who loves his baby. And I think you were dealt a shitty hand and you’re doing the best you can. And that’s all Natalie will care about.”

Angel took your hand in his, “thank you for everything you do Y/N. Natalie loves you. And I’m glad she has you around. I’m so relieved that you told Letty you been wanting me to ask you out. Shit it’s like a weight was lifted!”

You let out a laugh before realizing what he said “wait, she said that I’ve been wanting you to ask me out? I never told her that... as a matter of fact she said you wanted to ask me out.."

“What? I didn’t say that yeah me and EZ were talking when you went to the mall and —-"

“Those assholes... they set us up.” You let out another laugh and Angel laughs with you. “I don’t know what’s funnier, the fact that we let them set us up or the fact that I’ve never heard you swear until tonight."

You threw your head back in laughter “oh I swear all the time!”

“Well, I guess we should be getting back. I don’t know how much longer I trust Natalie in a house full of those pushovers. She’ll be running it when we get there.” He stood up and lent you his hand to help you up. You began walking back but he still had a hold on your hand.

“Are you coming?” You ask as you turn to face him.

“Yeah, it’s just... you look... incredible mi dulce.. I mean not just today, all the time , but right now? God damn. I just needed you to know how amazing you look. And I’m trying to be respectful and shit but it’s getting hard the more I look at you.”

He walks closer to you and you can feel your heart beat pick up and your cheeks flush. His hands find their way to your hips and you look up at him, there’s a gleam in his eyes that you’ve never seen before, hungry, dark, filled with lust.

His face is so close to yours you can feel his breath on your lips, and you instinctively lick your own. “And all I wanna do right now is kiss you because I been wanting to do that for a while now and it’s driving me fuckin crazy.

“Angel..” your voice barely a whisper and he gently kisses you. You felt like your body was going to explode at just his kiss. Like in the movies where time stops and it’s just the two of you. How cliche were you?

Your hands resting on his forearms as he pulls you flush against him and traces your lips with his tongue. You let him in and the kiss becomes more desperate, but still gentle, and you don’t know how long you were standing there before he broke it to look at you again, resting his forehead against yours.

“Let’s get back.”

You felt dizzy and flustered and turned on and your butterflies in your stomach were on overdrive. You’ve never seen this side of Angel before and it was the best thing you have experienced. He held your hand the whole drive home and when you got back he stopped you at the front door.

“Oh my god they’re back!! EZ they’re here!” Letty whispered. They watched the two of you from the front windows like little kids on Christmas morning.

“I need more.” He pulled you in by his waist again and you let out a small laugh before meeting his lips again. He moved his kisses down your cheek, your jaw, chin, and neck and then guided you to the wall at the front porch. You were backed against the wall and his lips found yours again.

EZ covered Lettys eyes and she scoffed before slapping his hand down. “Holy shit! They’re into each other i fuckin knew it!” She said.

“Shit move they’re coming back in.” EZ dropped down on the couch pretended to be interested in whatever show was on tv.

“So, you guys have fun?” He asked as you and Angel made your way inside.

You greeted him with a smirk, “yeah it was nothin special.” And winked in Angels direction. “I’m going to bed, goodnight guys.” And you headed into your room.

You closed the door and leaned against it when you were in your room. You let out a long sigh and closed your eyes with a smile on your face. What the fuck was happening? Did that really just happen? You really kissed Angel? You were on cloud 9. You removed your makeup and changed into your pajamas and got into bed. Laying there, looking up at the ceiling, it was right then you realized that YOU were in trouble.

Tag List: @starrynite7114 @woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @gemini0410 @ifoundmyhappythought @cind-in-real-life @scuzmunkie @iambabyharry @sadeyesgf @carlaangel86 @everyhowlmarksthedead @notsobuckybarnes @wrcn9fvlcver @elcococruz @jenny885 @general-tiny-mouse @loud-midget @danie1432 @strawberrywritings

#mayans mc #mayans imagine #angel reyes #ez reyes #mayansfx #angel x reader #clayton cardenas #ezekiel reyes #mayans #jdpardo

166 notes · View notes

punkscowardschampions · 3 years

Text

Edie & Liam

aleeunayzhun: anyone else think the ‘monster’ addition was totally unnecessary and has taken away from what was a mildly intriguing ARG concept beforehand?

aleeunayzhun: 🙄 back on the trail for a new rabbithole to fall down

level26: Yeah, axed it for me

aleeunayzhun: the paranormal route can be alright if it’s done right but usually it ain’t and then it’s a cop-out, PM definitely didn’t think where they were going with this

aleeunayzhun: the ones that rely on the real world but twist it are always scarier to me, no one ever has the balls to stick with it, to not throw in some bullshit ghost jumpscares to get the idiots with

level26: creepypasta is where it ends up with barely no exceptions

aleeunayzhun: mhmm

aleeunayzhun: and no one has shanked their mate over anything on there in time

level26: got a few I’ll volunteer if the next 🐇 is more of this or promo again

aleeunayzhun: If one more shitty band thinks throwing out some binary or morse code makes them any less shit, I’ll join you

level26: dednah tfel neve t'nia ylbaborp yeht

aleeunayzhun: imij erew yeht hsiw yeht

level26: 👅💔🍆💔🎸💔

aleeunayzhun: 💔 they reckon hot groupies hang about on reddit

level26: trolls are their groupies, they can only be fuelled by edgy r/hate 🤘

aleeunayzhun: awh, r/hate is only a degree away from r/love after-all

level26: just like that, a plotline that’d be less crap than [whatever this ARG we’re slagging off is called]

aleeunayzhun: not gonna start my annoying beg promo in here quite yet but how hard was that, really

level26: us both being spam bots is still a better twist than the monster did it

aleeunayzhun: Привет, дорогая, хочешь увидеть мои сексуальные фотки? Hажмите ссылку СЕЙЧАС! [‘Hello dear, do you want to see my sexy pictures? Click the link NOW!’ And a link to god knows what lmao]

level26: NO soundcloud rapper link?! 💀 what an r/cockblock

aleeunayzhun: how’d you guess 😏

level26: my paranormal powers kicked in, clicking that link must’ve leveled me up

aleeunayzhun: advert for communism? 🤔🤫

level26: find me and my sick beats on r/motherrussia

aleeunayzhun: MK Ultra is definitely taken by about 1000 other shit DJs

aleeunayzhun: and is the poorly executed plot of several other ARGs I’ve also given up on

level26: KM Extra is my personal fave shit DJ, really doing something

aleeunayzhun: the fact I genuinely know who that is 😷😷

level26: I noclipped into his set at [somewhere she would have heard of even if she’s not been] talk about an eldritch location

aleeunayzhun: you must’ve felt like the only player in a crowd of NPCs 🧟‍♀️🧠💀🧟‍♂

level26: close enough to the review I would’ve left

aleeunayzhun: I’ll leave it

aleeunayzhun: I know the coordinates

level26: I’ll 👀 out for it

level26: you on moscow standard time or one of the other 10?

aleeunayzhun: I’m the Russian spy, I hack you, comrade

level26: ❤️ tôi cũng cam kết với chính nghĩa cộng sản ❤️ [with some link to the Communist Party of Vietnam because we’re saying we’re as committed to communism]

aleeunayzhun: [links to the Communist Party of Ireland to be like obvs we have both worked out we’re actually from here

level26: cracked the code, like, full props to KM Extra

aleeunayzhun: Only in Dubo would that shit fly

level26: they’d eat his head off outside the pale, yeah, galway’d be having none of it

aleeunayzhun: what they got but a bunch of rocks though

level26: easy pick for the murder weapon

aleeunayzhun: you’d never get far enough in the guinness factory to drown someone in a vat 💔

level26: could do if you got a job as manager and closed for essential maintenance

aleeunayzhun: 💡

aleeunayzhun: won’t do no harm to the taste

level26: iron boost if he’s bleeding heavily when he goes in

aleeunayzhun: delicious and nutritious

level26: ARG coming soon from guinness

aleeunayzhun: bastards better give credit

level26: they can have it, we’re not short of ideas

aleeunayzhun: and you ain’t heard nothing yet

aleeunayzhun: not making it that easy for the wannabe PMs with none of their own

aleeunayzhun: 🔐the real ones

level26: fair play, given enough freebies out in this thread

aleeunayzhun: 🤐

aleeunayzhun: [later on though definitely some way to contact her privately but in a way that you’ve got to work it out of course]

level26: [at least then we can switch to y’all’s names ‘cause I can’t think of a username for the life of me lol]

Edie: [You can add it later and change it, it’s fine lol]

Liam: 🔓

Edie: 1 🔑 for 1 💎

Edie: Suitably impressed

Liam: if I knew anywhere that loaded a 💎 into the gun I’d be off but what’s impressive about a swollen and green ear

Edie: Impressive, no; but good footage for the game? Absolutely

Liam: I’d do it here to have time to mess about with all the lighting and angles

Edie: you’re 🎥

Edie: not enough have actual artistic merit so fair play

Liam: but thinking about it, recording the conveyor belt of a trainee stabbing holes in screaming babies ears all day could have some merit to it, maybe I should get myself up

Edie: you can buy anything and everything from bezos

Edie: live your dreams

Liam: putting my dreams on tape would be worse than the monster reveal

Liam: cheapest jumpscares and effects

Edie: not to mention outing yourself to the whole thread, not just me

Liam: how many teachers would crawl out the woodwork if there was a mass reveal

Edie: to offer you the school’s stellar mental health services

Edie: the one nurse phoning it in

Liam: find my dad lurking on the thread too, that’d be a trip

Edie: unexpectedly wholesome

Edie: I’ll start hiding caches where my dad hides his stashes

Edie: unintentional rhyme

Liam: bars 🎼

Edie: @ KM Extra

Liam: Fachtna to his ma who thinks he’s a saint

Edie: Oof

Edie: ARG concept no. ? the horror of the Irish language

Liam: my ma would be 😱 if I went and hugged her for not doing me that wrong

Edie: not the audience we aim to 😱 really

Liam: too easy

Edie: almost as easy as your name to spell and say

Edie: you even from here 👽

Liam: wouldn’t take enough working out to set you as a test, records are basically lying about

Edie: nothing relating to school is a challenge

Liam: just getting that nurse to give a shit

Edie: if she reckons she’s 👀 it all…

Liam: front row of our intended audience

Edie: splash zone

Liam: she’s never off her phone, spy like you won’t have no problem hacking it

Edie: her nudes = actual monstrosity

Liam: dunno what Mr Doyle sees in her

Edie: yeah, he’s such a looker himself, like

Liam: his wife used to be pretty fit

Edie: don’t matter when she explains how and why people cheat

Edie: psychobabble gets ‘em off every time

Liam: if they taught psychology nobody’d be off each other or learning anything then

Edie: sounds like any other standard schoolday

Liam: that's what they’re getting up to in your class, is it

Edie: as cliche as the monster, yeah

Liam: 🔥🏫

Edie: hear hear

Edie: got to make the endless fire drills worth it one day

Liam: can’t miss me standing in line or not

Edie: then I won’t

Liam: next false alarm I pull

Edie: + 💎

Liam: + 👀

Liam: dont have to hate every cliche

Edie: not the good ones

Edie: all about how you use or misuse them

Liam: can you overuse eye contact

Edie: I can

Liam: I can make a kubrick stare work however many takes you wanna do

Edie: you don’t think I’m a one-take 🌟

Liam: I’ve not shot you

Edie: 🤯🔫

Liam: I’m not a one-take 📷📹

Edie: is that a brag for not suffering from premature ejaculation?

Liam: do you need that reassurance

Edie: I don’t know

Liam: I’ll think about other unsexy shit if your eyes start getting to me too much

Edie: Ha, yeah right

Edie: just don’t think about the 🔥

Liam: 🚒 buzzkill

Edie: 🚓 cockblock

Liam: 🚑 scene stealers

Edie: 🛸 out of here

Liam: before you can get stuck there as a 👻

Edie: Purgatory is preferable to that place forever

Liam: stay alive and it’s simple to get out of 🏫

Edie: I’ll leave my bag behind

Edie: 1st rule and only, really

Liam: don’t really need a pile of textbooks

Edie: I doubt that’s what you carry

Edie: I know I don’t

Liam: I can get more of what I do and I bet you could too

Edie: Bars

Liam: 😏

Edie: You’ve promo’d him a lot if you ain’t him

Edie: KM, like

Edie: bit sus

Liam: you said you know who he is, you know I ain’t

Liam: maybe I love him or some gay shit

Edie: none of his tracks sound like love songs

Liam: guess he don’t love me back

Edie: Oh honey

Edie: lock him in when you set the fire

Liam: he can keep spitting out those fuck yous til the end

Edie: dedication ✊

Liam: and +++ for morale

Edie: what a lad

Liam: love triangle is a cliche too far, take a deep breath or something

Edie: bit possessive

Liam: directors are dicks

Edie: and the heartbroken

Liam: yeah, couldn’t be kind to you if I wanted

Edie: I’ll survive

Edie: you’ve given me the heads up, I’ll give you the 👀

Liam: respect killing me with your 👀 and taking him for yourself

Edie: who could blame me

Liam: my ma as I’m dead, like

Edie: true

Edie: i’ll avoid her at the tescos

Liam: 🛒 dash

Edie: got a selection of my own

Edie: [picture because the random crap you would have in the barns lmao]

Liam: [a picture of one he stole at some point that’s on fire or been blown up or whatever]

Edie: 👏

Edie: what else can we 💥

Liam: got any barns you don’t use

Liam: or 🚜 stuff

Edie: loads

Edie: if you’re lucky, I’ll leave another 🔑

Liam: got another ear to put a 💎 in, luck’s gonna run out beyond it

Edie: sounds like some gay shit, you should

Liam: 👌

Liam: [pics when we’ve done this because of course we have, casually raiding either your mother or sister’s jewellery stashes here like]

Edie: Oh

Edie: actually looks kinda sick

Edie: you’re welcome then

Liam: I’ll send the footage when I’ve edited it

Edie: I look forward to it

Edie: I can’t give you any clues

Liam: what makes you think I need em

Edie: [idk how to differentiate but clearly the clue to where you live needs to be much harder to find and then decode lmao]

Liam: [awkward when he blatantly already knows where you live]

Edie: [do not even need to do the work, whoops]

Liam: [convincingly pretend you are though please]

Edie: [thank god he’s not a murderer even if he is a stalker, just giving out this info willynilly]

Liam: [not your stalker, it’s FINE]

Edie: [oh dear oh dear]

Edie: I’ll know when you work it out

Liam: yeah, I’ll show up 📷📹🌾

Liam: or send a 📦💣 if you wanna take things slow

Edie: you decide

Edie: I’ll shake all the packages extra hard

Liam: cancel the real 🐇 I thought about

Edie: animal cruelty is lamer than bed wetting

Liam: never even tipped a 🐄

Edie: they’ll appreciate it

Edie: anyway, if you did, punishment is letting them kick you in the face so you lose in the end

Liam: head injury’s a win if I get caught for the 🔥🏫 or being seen staring in your window

Edie: 😍🤤 just serial killer things

Liam: pretend I didn’t say KM’s gonna be my 1st victim

Edie: I’ll never feel special otherwise

Liam: you don’t feel special knowing I cracked your code

Edie: if anything, it makes you look smart and me not smart enough

Liam: you’re smart enough that I wanted to

Edie: I’m not going to ruin it with a cliche jumpscare now

Liam: me either, you’re smart enough too to see me coming

Edie: and you’re tall, so I hear

Liam: dunno where from, my dad’s not

Edie: he’s definitely your dad?

Edie: I may as well accuse your ma because I’m already avoiding her for the whole killing you thing

Liam: don't act like it which probably means he is

Edie: ha, real talk

Edie: I think you might be taller than mine

Edie: he’s 6’2

Liam: ha, I am

Edie: you’re the tallest person in school, possibly town

Edie: definite 👽

Liam: taking their time parking the ufo and picking me up, typical dad

Edie: did they forget ET or leave him here on purpose

Edie: he was fucking annoying

Liam: if I looked that much like a ballsack I’d understand

Edie: 😂

Edie: least you’d get to get fucked up with baby Drew Barrymore

Liam: baileys on cereal does taste sick, always down for that

Edie: yum

Edie: what do your fingers look like

Liam: [a video of his hands from lots of angles like hello]

Edie: hot

Edie: you can call me Elliot

Liam: or just call you instead of home

Edie: 😎 so smooth

Liam: what’s my ma gonna say, get back, talking to you is smarter

Edie: I’ve got time to set up the voice distorter so you’re not disappointed by the lack of crEEEEeeeEPpPPpyyyyYy vibes

Liam: and I’ll have loads of time to hear how you sound without it when I stake your house out

Edie: I’ll be sure to be loud

Edie: and not chat total inane shit with my family

Liam: you got your own room

Edie: technically not

Edie: but there are other rooms and places to crash in, when I wanna be alone

Liam: there’s my excuse to zoom in creeEEPpILY close 👀 when you’re not

Edie: very awkward and even ruder if you confused me for my sister

Edie: no one’s done that for ages

Liam: how were they ever doing it

Edie: we’re both the white ones, they just didn’t know which was which

Liam: can’t be a hard code to crack, not gonna be confusing you for anyone

Edie: good

Edie: it was pretty annoying

Edie: and I’m already your second victim as it is

Liam: partner in crime, or groupie to mine if you’re not getting actively involved, but still standing at the end

Edie: hope you’re writing some of these down

Edie: ‘cos I’m not gonna be your groupie

Edie: got my own scores to settle, own havoc to wreak

Liam: don’t need to write down I don’t want you to die, I’ll remember

Edie: it rhymed though

Edie: I’ll steal your lines then

Liam: write as many songs about me as you want, be your groupie til I get 🛸✌️

Edie: [send your music links because you ain’t]

Edie: give me a sec to do yours but pretend any of these are about you

Liam: this is you

Liam: serious

Edie: yeah

Edie: if I was gonna lie I’d have done that a few steps ago

Liam: I’m gonna lie they’re all about me

Edie: that’s what serious meant

Liam: it meant I’m impressed and you’re downplaying how smart you are

Edie: you can be my hypeman and overplay it

Liam: [does by uploading this edited ear piercing escapade with whatever song of hers we like and fits the vibe playing in it, giving her credit because we’re not a heathen and also putting on his stories that he’s listening to these tracks and hyping them how you can]

Edie: [so 😍 over this but trying to be chill somehow and somewhat even though we’re extra af anyway]

Edie: maybe I do wanna be your groupie

Edie: what do you want from me

Edie: like, I owe you and I want to give you something too, ‘cos

Edie: talking to you IS interesting

Edie: and not just because I could be talking to my ma or someone else really boring instead just ‘cos you are

Liam: [for real though her views would definitely go up cos the vibe is he knows loads of people through his sister but also through his weird vids and the raves and stuff he goes to now too so]

Liam: all I want’s to keep talking to you, for as long as you’re into it

Liam: people don’t unless we’re off our faces, like

Edie: my notifications are popping off rn

Edie: I know what you mean though, everyone’s too scared to say or do anything when they don’t have something to blame it on, like being stupid or weird or whatever the fuck actually matters

Edie: more than being bored and alone

Liam: dunno what they’re more scared of, what they wanna ask or how I’m gonna answer, least I know what the topic’ll be

Liam: every convo I have is a loop

Edie: all anyone ever cares about and knows is the headlines

Edie: as if there aren’t countless hours minutes seconds before and after the big events they all 👀 and 👂

Liam: work out sweet for you as a headliner

Edie: Getting them to talk about what I’m doing instead of whatever my parents and the rest of the fucking fam did or do is the goal

Liam: with me hyping you up, no bother, keep knocking out hits and I’ll promo em with no trace of binary or morse code

Edie: and you make films

Edie: I wasn’t sure if you were pissing about at first

Edie: every other person in that thread is an aspiring filmmaker so

Liam: did put me off for a while

Edie: Yours aren’t going to be bad Blair Witch ripoffs though

Edie: I can say that much without seeing

Edie: even the stuff you’ve sent today is dope

Liam: do you wanna see

Edie: yes

Liam: [link her cos I doubt all the weird shit is just there chilling on your insta or whatever]

Edie: [just casually watching all of this nbd]

Liam: siht ekil kool annog weiver ruoy

Liam: или, может быть, это

Edie: hoặc tôi có thể làm như thế này [‘or I could do it like this’]

Edie: si ffuts ruoy kniht i looc woh edih annaw tnod i tub

Liam: ba mhó an spraoi é a cheilt agus a lorg go pearsanta [hide and seek would be more fun in person]

Edie: If you’ve worked out where I live like you say

Edie: be fair and count to 100

Liam: you reckon you made it that easy do you

Liam: be cool if you added some 00s to that and gave me a fair chance

Edie: no, you could still be anyone

Liam: someone to be scared of, yeah I probably am

Edie: Do you want me to be scared of you

Liam: nah

Edie: Good because I’m not and I never promised I was a 🌟 so

Liam: 🤩 with or without promises

Edie: How have I never spoke to you before

Edie: so weird

Liam: I wouldn’t have known what to say to a girl like you

Edie: You seem like you’re coping fine to me

Liam: from behind a keyboard I can cope with anything

Edie: You’re not afraid of me either

Liam: not yet

Edie: What do you think I’m like?

Liam: smart, creative, nice to talk to and look at

Edie: then you’ve got nothing to be afraid of

Liam: I’ve got nothing, that’s bang on

Edie: I’m not trying to take anything from you

Edie: but I could throw those compliments back to you x 10000

Liam: you don’t like possessive, I ain’t gonna tell you what to do

Edie: I didn’t say that

Edie: you could claim better than a soundcloud DJ though

Liam: been waiting to hear that compliment specifically

Edie: 😏

Edie: You look like you’d be a fuckboy

Edie: that’s what I thought

Edie: you’re that good-looking

Liam: if I was the game’d be making you think I wasn’t, which is kinda where we are

Edie: True

Edie: so I’m that dumb or you’re that good, what are we going for?

Liam: you’re smart enough to play dumb, I don’t think I can aim for god tier puppet mastery of anyone’s emotions

Edie: I can see the appeal of that

Edie: closing you eyes to thing you don’t wanna see, to see the things you do

Edie: but mine are wide open

Liam: I ain’t mad, there’d be no appeal to yours being closed, unless you drop bars in your sleep too

Edie: you’re gonna find which window is mine and find out, yeah

Liam: wake you up before you name drop KM as it’s MY thing

Edie: that’s your man, I can respect it

Liam: exclusivity is a + for you then, I’m taking notes

Edie: I don’t really know

Edie: everyone’s lame

Liam: I’ve been there, yeah

Edie: I can’t fake enthusiasm for the sake of it

Liam: it’s a shite idea, doable or not

Edie: I don’t intend to

Edie: 🤞

Liam: can’t think why you’d have to

Edie: I won’t make you promise

Liam: what’ll you make me do

Edie: I want you to show

Edie: and be real and not just go ghost after this

Edie: but I don’t know if you will and I know you might

Liam: be a short afterlife, we don’t get american summers

Edie: we both got the capabilities, but I can promise not to stalk you if you like

Edie: if you want to stick to usernames and anonymity

Liam: not working out where you are to prove I can and a face in the window haunting wouldn’t even impress any dads lurking on the thread

Edie: Alright but I’d be more inclined to keep a secret if you asked opposed to all the dads

Liam: I wouldn’t wanna keep anything we do secret

Edie: Yeah?

Liam: if this is a scam I’m falling for everyone’ll see why and if it’s not I’m gonna document everything

Edie: I won’t ask for your credit card details even once

Edie: This is… different

Edie: isn’t it

Liam: you can have my ma’s, you’re avoiding her and the big tescos

Liam: I don’t know what this is, I wasn’t expecting you at the end of any of those links

Edie: It IS the least she could do

Edie: If I had a guess, you weren’t it

Edie: Even though you mentioned Dubo, it isn’t that small of a town

Liam: ha, how livid you’d be if I was another american coming here for the culture

Edie: not close enough to st patrick’s that I was worried

Liam: how did you feel

Edie: I thought no way it was you at first

Edie: and then I couldn’t believe it was you

Edie: and then that I should’ve known you sooner

Edie: what about you?

Liam: I still can’t believe it’s you, I would’ve tried to chat to you sooner if I knew this is how it’d go

Edie: I’m glad we are now

Edie: and I’ve not fucked it up

Liam: if the small world’s not fucked it up, you won’t

Edie: like you said, be shit if you were in America

Liam: be crap if you were anyone else from school, like you said

Edie: If it was anyone else from school

Edie: this convo would be well over by now

Liam: it’s the longest I’ve had for years

Edie: It’s all so surface level, right

Edie: fuck that

Edie: I wanna know more about you, I don’t care if I shouldn’t just say that

Liam: what do you wanna know

Edie: Hmm

Edie: Do I only get the one question?

Edie: Because I’ll think more carefully if so

Liam: nah, there’s no limit on it

Edie: Cool

Edie: so how was your day, and what were you doing just before you went on the forum?

Liam: [send her a video of some rave or whatever you were at because it’s summer bitches]

Liam: + 3-4 hours sleeping

Edie: Lucky

Edie: where’d you sleep and where’s the weirdest place you’ve got + 3-4 hours sleep before?

Liam: [send her some of the blooper-esque stuff you cut out to make it look more fun than it is, cos we know you’re usually bored]

Liam: home, I can’t 💤 in random xD places but I could call your dad short and maybe have him in a fight

Edie: that’s hot

Edie: he could’ve been there and you coulda tested that theory

Edie: but I wanna be there when you do

Liam: you’d have a shite view from the stage with lights blinding you, can’t let on how talented you are while we’re there

Edie: 😶

Edie: he’s not old so it’s not on a par with animal abuse lameness

Liam: and if I get carried away you can stop me

Edie: can I

Edie: + skill points

Liam: 🎶 works on monsters

Edie: have to find a way to get you home before the 💤 hits

Edie: so cute 🥺

Liam: mine or yours

Edie: 😳

Edie: I’ll protect you while you sleep, see if you can at mine

Liam: I can’t if you’re 👀

Edie: that might be a problem

Liam: how long can you not blink for

Edie: [send a vid of an attempt]

Liam: can I keep this

Edie: ‘course

Edie: use it if you can

Liam: when you write a song about me it’ll need a vid

Edie: I’ve started

Edie: I think by the time you find me, it’ll be done

Liam: people who don’t know you are gonna think I edited your eyes that colour

Edie: hashtag they’re real 😏

Liam: the girl who said she had an operation as a kid’s the real you

Edie: 😂

Edie: they were going rouge and I’ve repressed those memories

Liam: what were you doing before you logged on

Edie: not at a rave, sadly

Edie: I was masterminding a sabotage though, trying to anyway

Liam: don’t leave it there giving me no details

Edie: it isn’t even bad ARG plot worthy

Edie: but my sister has her gross boyfriend over and I need to ruin their fun, obviously, because they are unbearable

Edie: easiest way to do that is make them babysit the twins because there’s nothing fun about 9 year olds

Edie: so I convinced ma to go out on a date, but I still need to get my brother out the way and he’s a massive nerd who never goes anywhere so I’m stumped

Liam: we could have fun with it, gotta be a route to go down that’s not just ripping off the shining again

Liam: a nerd how, he’s on mastermind and his subject is _

Edie: 🪓 is just a prop, honest

Edie: bones, not in a cool way

Edie: History, all that old shit

Liam: [obviously find some kind of obscure af exhibit or book signing or something that he’d potentially be interested in and send her the deets because sleuthing is what you do boy]

Edie: OMG but genuinely

Edie: you are too good at this, I’ll have to keep you around

Liam: stashed with the 🪓

Edie: if you fit

Edie: He’ll actually go to this, for sure

Edie: 🐓🚫

Liam: keep what you figure’s useful and chop off the rest 🧩🧟

Edie: 😋

Edie: what an offer

Edie: and I do need to keep busy so I can’t be asked to step in

Edie: not that I’d say yes

Liam: busy like with a 🧭

Edie: go on

Liam: [god knows what scavenger hunt he’s sending you on gal that he apparently just has ready at the drop of a hat but here we are]

Edie: [live your best nerd lives]

Liam: [really hope these clues aren’t something he was gonna torment your sister with, because no thank you]

Edie: [lmao i hope it wouldn’t translate so easy ‘cos imagine]

Liam: [it definitely wouldn’t but a hardcore blag happening here regardless, I like to think you were actually coming up with this for her while you were pretending to work out her address that you already know]

Edie: [that’s a solid shout ‘cos yeah that is a thing lol]

Edie: [definitely sending you the demo of this song at the end as a prize because we’re beyond 😍 now]

Liam: [likewise even though he’s trying to downplay how 😍 he is to himself rn because it’s so weird that she’s Rio’s sister and that he actually also likes her in her own right so we’re fully !?]

Liam: [nevertheless trying to think of something creepy but cool he could send to her house so she knows he knows where it is and that we think this demo is amazing obviously, maybe it’s lots of other people’s shit musical endeavours like KM that we’ve set on fire and otherwise destroyed in creative ways like you’ve slayed the competition gal since cds and tapes are back baby idk]

Edie: [I wonder if I can find something like that to post hmm to pinterest I go]

Liam: [love the visual of you just sneakily dropping off a massive box of melted plastic without anyone seeing you]

Edie: [you’re clearly good lmao, I was thinking we could do a convo with Billie between this and the next one though]

Liam: [good idea boo, I’m up for that]

1 note · View note

welllpthisishappening · 5 years

Text

Pace of Play

She can’t believe she’s never noticed it before. Because, honestly, Emma can’t even come up with a number to try and calculate how often she’s watched Killian step into the batters box. And that’s the thing. He never really steps out, either. It's a weird approach, but that could be the subheadline for their lives at this point and she’s mostly concerned with the power behind that swing.

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Word Count: Like 3.4K Rating: Teen, but with kissing! AN: This is solely for and because of @distant-rose who deserves every bit of baseball fic I have ever written and all the good things in any known universe. And speaking of universes. This is set in that Yankees one where Emma and Killian secretly date because David also plays for the Red Sox. If you’re so inclined to read more:

Batting a Thousand (the original one) || Puppy Love (the one where they get a puppy) || The One Where They Elope || The One Where Killian and David Take the Rivalry Too Far

Let’s go Yankees.

—

“Is it weird that he does that?”

Emma makes a noise — barely more than a passing acknowledgement, eyes never leaving the field because Killian is up to bat and she’d lost feeling in her left foot at some point. She’s twisted at an awkward angle, legs draped over the suite seats in front of her, but she absolutely, positively cannot move.

On pain of death.

Or baseball superstition.

They’ve got to win this game. They can’t go down by two in the series. Not with the way they’ve been hitting and they need to hit better and Emma genuinely cannot remember the last time she took a deep breath.

She fiddles with the ring on her left hand.

And the ring hanging around her neck. It’s some sort of weird pattern, the weight of Mary Margaret’s gaze boring into the back of her head and David had started pacing at some point in the fourth inning.

“He’s swinging half a second too late,” David announces, which only leads to Emma nearly strangling herself. Mary Margaret has to lean over to untangle her fingers.

“Thank you, player not currently competing in the postseason,” Emma mutters.

“Ah, that’s mean.”

“And,” Mary Margaret adds, “it’s not like David would be hitting in this series anyway. Plus—“

“Mary Margaret, if you tell me that David could really add something to the Yankees starting rotation right now, I may actually scream,” Emma warns. Elsa moves her hand over her mouth.

Her laugh is still very loud.

“Ok, that’s not what I was going to say at all—it’s not, seriously stop glaring at the field, it’s freaking me out.”

Emma rolls her eyes, but she’s definitely glaring at the field and she cannot fathom a world where this game doesn’t end with a win and the season doesn’t end with another title and they got married, in the middle of the season, in secret. There are rules about happily ever after.

And sports emotions.

He’s definitely swinging half a second too late.

“See,” David mutters.

Emma grits her teeth. “I am not in the mood for I told you so, right now.”

“I mean, I didn’t say that.”

“Technically,” Elsa amends. She’s stood up as well, a hand pushing on David’s chest when he threatens to wear out the carpet in the suite. “And is no one going to answer my question? Because I know I know nothing about this painfully long sport—“

“—It is the sixth inning,” Emma interrupts.

“We’ve been here for hours, seriously. How often can you change pitchers?”

“Bring it up to Rob Manfred,” David says. Elsa swats at his shoulder that time. “Three-batter minimum for relievers. No more specialists. Pace of play.”

“Should that mean something to me?”

Emma mumbles a curse under her breath, ignoring the growing ache that’s circling around her knee and, somehow, the side of her hip. Killian rocks back on his heels in the box, hardly unbending his knees, even when he swings the bat in front of him, and Emma is dimly aware that Elsa is still talking. She’s not listening. She’s staring. Watching, really. Intently.

“Em, seriously are you listening to your brother and whatever tongues he’s started speaking in?”

“Nah, not at all.”

Elsa clicks her tongue in reproach. It doesn’t matter — Killian’s already digging his toes into the dirt again, quick taps of the bat on the front and back of the plate and—

“Seriously, why does no one else bat like this?”

Emma may growl. Although she’s not sure if that’s because Killian’s just fouled off a ball in the dirt or because Elsa isn’t making any sense, but it really may just be because of the pins and needles stretching into her calf and she snaps her jaw no less than a dozen times.

They’re pumping the live broadcast into the suite — more words Emma hasn’t really been paying attention to, what with the swirling nerves in the pit of her stomach and her heart’s apparent determination to linger in the very center of her throat.

“You know that’s not true,” Mary Margaret mumbles, finally getting Emma to pull her gaze away from home plate.

“What?”

“You cannot have an even count. That’s not how numbers work.”

Elsa sighs. “If you guys are going to keep not making sense, then I’m going to leave. Also, I totally saw Emma and Killian making out before the start of the game.”

David sounds like he’s dying.

“Oh my God,” Emma sighs. “We are married.”

She enunciates every letter of each word — as if that will make them more official or remind the world that she deserves good things and drama-free wins and, maybe, a few home runs over the short right field porch with impressive exit velocity.

“An even count does not make sense,” Mary Margaret repeats, as if they simply hadn’t heard her before. Maybe Emma can find another suite to watch the rest of the game in.

It probably wouldn’t be that hard.

Everyone at the Stadium knows her now, quick smiles whenever she’s downstairs and the security guy at Gate 4 has started waving at her, a muttered Mrs. Jones that never fails to make her heart clench and do several metaphorical somersaults in quick succession.

Killian hits a fly ball over the third base line.

And Emma slumps further into her seat. Her knee does not appreciate it at all.

“How does an even count not make sense, babe?” David asks, all placating and somehow even more married than Emma keeps reminding him that she also is.

“People say even counts on, you know, 1-1 or 2-2, but that doesn’t make sense. A 2-2 count still has more room for balls than strikes. Ergo—“

“—Oh good word,” Elsa laughs.

Mary Margaret winks. Emma’s never really noticed how high Killian’s elbow gets when he settles into his stance. He doesn’t move the bat that much, but Emma swears she can’t practically taste the energy on her tongue, which is either the most disgusting or most romantic thing she’s ever thought and—

Killian fouls another ball off.

“Battling,” David mumbles. She definitely growls that time. It hurts her throat.

He grins.

And Killian never actually steps out of the box — even when the Houston pitcher moves off the rubber, glancing at the inside of his hat for brand-new signs. David’s mumbling something that sounds like I hate when I have to do that, but Emma’s started to realize what Elsa meant.

She’s right.

Killian Jones does not bat like anyone else on the Yankees roster. Maybe even the entire MLB.

That sounds a little dramatic, though. Emma can’t get that dramatic until they win the pennant.

They’re totally going to win the pennant.

He lines his feet up again, the side of his cleat nearly brushing the back of the box, which only makes it obvious how far apart his legs move, that same distinct bend to his knees and a ridiculously high elbow and he kicks his foot out slightly when he swings.

Emma knows. As soon as the ball cracks off the bat.

She jumps up — somehow, without also managing to dislocate several joints at the same time — the ring around her neck flying up and nearly smacking her in the nose. And Emma isn’t sure what noise she makes per se, but it leaves Elsa giggling and Mary Margaret casting furtive glances at David and neither one of those matter when the ball keeps going.

Going, going, gone.

Directly into right center field.

Emma’s jumping, which probably isn’t great considering she can’t really feel any part of her left leg anymore, but Killian’s jogging around he bases and she can see his mouth move, David’s continued stream of commentary echoing between her ears.

“It’s honestly offensive how easy his swing is,” he grumbles. “Where does he even get that kind of power?”

“The making out,” Elsa responds, like it’s obvious. Emma almost chokes on her tongue.

Killian’s rounding third — a quick glance into the Astros dugout and a smile that might be half the reason Emma keeps toying with the ring on her left hand. Possibly like sixty-seven percent. Batting a thousand, or whatever.

She’s too excited to remember appropriate baseball cliches.

He glances up when he steps on home, and she knows he can’t actually see into the team suite, but it’s still exceptionally nice to think about and her heart does half a dozen front flips at that.

And there’s more game — pitches that Emma is certain raise her blood pressure and swings and misses and it’s still a save situation, so she starts pacing at some point too, but then they’re playing New York, New York and Killian’s answering questions on a post-game report and Emma’s standing in the tunnel downstairs and she absolute, positively runs.

It’s impossibly dramatic.

Especially in Game Four.

She hears Killian’s laugh before she actually looks at his face, arms around her waist and her face buried in the curve of his shoulder. He tightens his hold, only one of her feet staying on the ground.

Emma kisses wherever she can reach, which isn’t really saying much what with the awkward angle of her neck, but Killian doesn’t seem to mind, dragging his own lips over the side of her jaw.

Someone whistles.

It’s definitely Will.

“Should hit more home runs,” Killian mumbles, and it’s testament to postseason adrenaline that he doesn’t drop her when Emma starts to laugh as well.

Will might be gagging now.

Emma hums. “Something you might want to take into consideration.”

“That so?”

“I mean—I could not jump you post if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“No, no, I never once said that. Did you yell very loudly, Swan?”

“I think you’re fishing for compliments.”

“Absolutely.”

She might giggle. It’s absurd. She can’t get over the angle of his elbow when he bats. “God, that’s so stupid.”

“It’s strange, I’m not getting that compliment vibe anymore, love.”

“I yelled very loudly, scandalized my brother and I’ve got a question for you.”

Killian leans back, head nearly colliding with a wall covered in blue and white paint and the team name in enormous letters. As if they aren’t all constantly aware of where they are. History, or something. “About?”

“Well, Elsa actually brought it up, but—“

“—Jones,” a voice calls from the clubhouse, and Killian groans far louder than he should. Emma isn’t sure if that’s because of the voice or the only slightly accidental way she rolls her hips against him.

“You’re a menace,” he mutters.

“You’ve still got media.”

“I’m going to shower first.”

“They’ve got deadlines, babe.”

“I’m going to shower first,” Killian repeats. “Then I will answer questions, get ice, get a car and—“ He trails a finger up the back of her spine, making Emma twist in his hold while her teeth find her lower lip. Her breath hitches. And that smile is as different from the one he flashed in-game as it is possible for one smile to be, not quite triumphant, but maybe a little determined and she assumes she moves first.

If only because he’s still smiling when her mouth crashes into his.

Killian pulls her tighter against his chest, backing up even more so he’s got something to rest his weight on and neither one of them acknowledges the now very-clearly annoyed clubhouse voice. He tilts his head instead, mouth opening against Emma’s and tongue swiping across the lip she’d been toying with.

His hand works its way under her shirt, the same number he’d been wearing and Emma arches into the touch almost immediately. It leave hers hips canted up again, a move that is not even remotely appropriate for the bowels of Yankee Stadium, and she can only imagine that George Steinbrenner is getting dangerously close to rising from his grave and chastising them for conduct detrimental to the team.

Emma’s arms shift, fingers pushing into Killian’s hair and that only gets him to groan again, but then she’s ghosting over the side of a clean-shaven face and he has to shave every morning.

Her heart is in almost perpetuate state of upheaval.

It’s the best goddamn thing in the world.

“I’ve got to go, love,” Killian murmurs, mostly into her mouth. Also nice. Better than nice. She’s going to look up the projected distance of that home run in the Uber home.

“I really yelled ridiculously loud.”

“I’ve got no doubt. I’ll see you at home, ok?”

Emma nods — a few more quick and slightly stolen kisses, which is an almost appropriate baseball joke. Kind of. No one really steals bases anymore.

And she’s got every intention of waiting up. She does. She’s got plans and questions about batting stances, but the corner of the couch is surprisingly comfortable and the sudden lack of postseason adrenaline rushing through her leaves her questionably exhausted with eyes that refuse to watch another loop of SportsCenter.

Emma jolts up when she hears the front door close, a lock clicking behind him and one side of Killian’s mouth tugs up when he walks into the room.

She’s still wearing her shirt.

And not much else.

“That seems like cheating,” he says softly, crouching in front of the couch. She’s thinking about his knees again.

“All hail the conquering hero or whatever.”

“Is this my welcoming committee, then?”

“Something like that,” Emma laughs, pushing up and Killian moves between her legs as soon as her feet find their way back to the floor. “Did you scandalize any journalists?”

“Nah, that’s not really my game.”

“Just hitting home runs.”

“Made the Top Ten.”

“No shit.”

Killian chuckles, nosing at Emma’s cheek. “You’ve got ESPN on, Swan. Did you not see?”

“I mean I saw the real thing, so—“

“—Ah, yeah, that is true. You can’t be very comfortable.”

“It’s going ok.”

“That so?”

She nods again — suddenly finding it difficult to respond when his eyes do that impossibly blue thing, dark with something close to want, and he can’t seem to decide where to look. His gaze snaps from hers down to the ring that’s fallen back over her shirt and the one on her hand and at some point in the last few months, he’s started brushing his thumb underneath it with an almost alarming regularity. Like, for good luck or something.

Baseball players are the weirdest.

“What did you want to ask me before?”

“Hmm?”

“You said you had a question,” Killian says. “What about?”

“Oh, oh, yeah—your elbow.”

He blinks. It’s an oddly satisfying response, and Killian nearly falls over when Emma stands up, gaze shifting again to the distinct lack of pants she’s got on. She can see the tip of his tongue poking against the inside of his cheek.

“Like I said, El brought it up—“

“—I’d really you rather didn’t talk about Elsa when there’s so much of your leg on display.”

“Leg, singular?”

“Swan.”

She sticks her tongue out, but that only leads to an even bluer blue and she’s got to stop thinking about the way his knees bend. Maybe she’s the weird one. “Ok, ok, just—why do you bat like you do?”

“Are we on the record?”

“I mean no— because obviously I know how you bat—do not look at me like that.” He smirks, pulling his lips behind his teeth and sitting down. It’s ridiculous, his legs pulled up against his chest and his chin resting on an upturned palm. “I could probably reenact your stance in my sleep.”

“That so?”

“I will kick you.”

“I’ve got to play tomorrow,” Killian counters. “Something about prime agility at the hot corner.”

“You don’t ever come out of the batters box.”

“And?”

“And what? That’s super weird. I mean—other guys call time like twenty-six times and—“

“—No ump is letting anyone call time twenty-six times.”

She rolls her eyes, but Killian appears to have been counting on that and Emma has started bobbing on the balls of her feet. “Take my exaggerated point for what it is. All I’m saying is, you never leave the box. Other guys do. Every single pitch. They take practice swings or they refit their gloves and—“

“—I don’t always wear gloves.”

“Well, that’s just ridiculous.”

“Where did my elbow fit into this, exactly?”

“It’s so high up when you bat,” Emma exclaims. The projected distance of that home run was four-hundred and twenty-six feet. Eventually she will blame this tirade on that.

Killian nods, tapping his fingers on the side of Emma’s ankle until she stills. “Yeah, that’s a whole thing. It’s, uh—well, the elbow is high, so I’ve got more momentum when I swing. Physics and all that. Helps with your hips too. And the wide stance.”

“So you can stay behind the ball.”

“And you acted like you didn’t know why I did it.”

“Nah,” Emma objects, “I get why you’re doing it. I just—well, El was talking about you staying in the box and—“

“—Mind games.”

“Wait, what?”

“Mind games,” Killian repeats with a shrug. “You’re right. Almost every other batter moves around between pitches, but when I first started playing there wasn’t a ton of time to do that. I—well, Liam used to toss me batting practice and it was always kind of in between everything else we were doing and so I never thought about stepping out of the box because I was cutting into my own practice time.”

Emma presses her lips together, something different than the usual gymnastics taking place in her stomach. It’s a little softer, quieter and even more comfortable. Like their couch. But in a way that sounds nicer than that.

“And now,” Killian continues, “it drives opposing pitchers insane. Your brother, especially. He hates when I don’t step out. Because then he’s got to get back into his windup quicker.”

“You’re toying with them.”

“A little. Pace of play, you know.”

Emma laughs, absent-mindedly moving her hands like she’s swinging an invisible bat over her head. It’s admittedly a little weird as far as flirting goes, but she figures the playoffs afford for these kind of moments. And Killian doesn’t move quickly when he stands, Emma’s eyes lingering on his mouth longer than they probably should, just steps into her space and twists her against his chest and—

“Lift your elbow up a bit, love.”

“This is a cliche.”

“We’re not actually on a field, I think that sets us apart.”

She scoffs, twisting her hips. That time is on purpose. Killian groans, head dropping to her shoulder so he can nip at the bit of skin there. “You were the one who said you could reenact my stance in your sleep,” he points out.

“Well, it’s distinct.”

Killian hums, and there’s this absolutely delightful thrum in Emma’s veins — wide awake and ready to flirt. She kicks her feet out, one then the other, like she’s tapping her toes with the bat. She pushes down the visor of an invisible helmet, squaring up to a home plate that isn’t there, rocks her weight from side to side.

“I can’t believe you remembered the visor thing,” Killian mutters. “You know, Swan, I think you might be stalking me.”

“Don’t act like you’re not into it.”

“Your elbow is still too low.”

“Does this not hurt your shoulder?”

“You get used to it.” Emma grumbles, but lifts her elbow up anyway, an angle her normal, human body is not used to bending at. “Now,” Killian mutters, dropping his mouth just behind her ear, “kick your front leg out, snap your hips forward and—“

Emma swings.

Which is only a little absurd, considering they’re standing in their living room and she’s definitely heard this start to SportsCenter three times already, but they won and that’s got to count for something.

Several things.

Everything.

“Straight shot into the bleachers,” Killian says.

“Right or left?”

“Batters choice.”

“I always think it’s more impressive when you can pull one.”

He spins her — that same look from before growing more pronounced and still just as attractive as ever. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“You’re wearing too many clothes.”

“Agreed,” Killian nods, and Emma isn’t really sure how they ever get into their bedroom, but there’s probably a postseason excuses and home runs and her shirt spends most of the night in the hallway.

Emma picks it up the next morning, coffee already brewing and the SportsCenter theme obvious and she lets her legs drape over Killian’s when they both watch the number one play.

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #cs fic #there should probably be a tag for all these fics huh #there probably won't ever be #this is unashamedly and obviously about aaron judge's batting stance #if i ever write a baseball fic that isn't about the yankees i'm probably dead #also writing game action is my favorite

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frightgothcar · 5 years

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HEY! Hey, you, reading this!!! I fuckin love writing but what I need to be able to write is a little thing called approval!! If you like this please comment and/or reblog!!!!!!!!!!

Area 51 au thingy. Danny/Wes. Songfic? Not really but the whole idea came from this song. V is based off of @its-towarzysz (main)/ @we-all-horny-here (sanders sides sideblog)/ @cockworktower (dp side blog) you should check them out, they make hella good content. Thanks to all my friends who helped me with motivation/proofreading. Tw for Death, Blood, Guns, and Violence. (Tell me if I forgot anything). I love this pairing and the lack of content sparks deep anger in my soul!! :)) Thanks for reading, enjoy!!

EDIT: Posting this on ao3 also @/godcannotdefeatfanfic

September 20th, 10:30 am

Area 51

Wes Weston had nothing to live for. Ever since his Mom had gone out for cigarettes on his 6th birthday and never come back his life had been a constant downward spiral. Maybe that was why he was in the middle of the Nevada desert, preparing to attempt to rush a highly armed government facility with a million other suicidal Millenials.

He fanned his face with his hand. It was over 86 degrees and he was practically melting in his Casper High spirit T-Shirt and blue jeans. He contemplated getting into his pickup truck and blasting the a/c but considering he only had a quarter tank of gas left, and it was a good 20 miles to the nearest gas station, he decided against it. Instead, he got onto his phone and texted his friends for the third time that morning.

Basketball-Boi: where r yall? its hot.

Phurry: we’re just driving in!! Do u see us?

Basketball-Boi: uhhh whats ur car look like

Phurry: the silver one

Basketball: V there are like a million silver ones what kind of car

Phurry: uhh Val says its called a subaru we’re right by a black car

Red_Huntress: They’re standing on the roof and waving. Can you see us now?

Wes looked up from his phone to see a person, about his age, standing on the roof of a silver Subaru, wearing a black band t-shirt and neon green booty shorts. Their long blond ponytail swished around their face as they jumped up and down excitedly. A girl stepped out of the car and began scolding her friend. She was wearing a matching red pair of shorts, there was black lettering on her backside that he couldn’t quite make out. He began waving back, which only excited the blond more. They lept over the brown-skinned girl and bolted towards Wes.

“Ready to fuck some aliens, Basketball-Boi?” They pulled him into a tight embrace.

“I was born ready!” He laughed, “How are you, V?”

“Pretty gay, thanks for asking.”

Wes opened his mouth to speak but V cut him off with an excited shout.

“Oh! That reminds me!” They slipped their arms out of their backpack straps and dug through the mint green bag for a minute before pulling a pair of hot pink shorts, “I wanted us all to match! Made ‘em myself!”

They flipped the shorts around to reveal ‘100% Nasty’ embroidered onto the ass in black. They then turned around to show off their own message, that read ‘Trash Man’.

“I made one for Val too, c’mon, we have to wear them!!”

Wes grabbed the shorts and held them to his hips. “Is this what you needed my measurements for?”

They nodded enthusiastically, “I was gonna make us team jackets, but that’s so cliche.”

“Huh, I mean, don’t get me wrong, these are… great, but are you sure pink is my color?”

V rolled their eyes, “Of course I’m sure, Wes! Just put them on, you’ll see.”

Wes sighed and walked behind his red truck for some privacy, not that there was much of that, the field was crowded with cars. He pulled down his blue jeans, thankful for the breeze on his legs, and pulled on the shorts. They were a perfect fit, clinging to his waist, and resting on his barely existent hips. The feeling of showing so much skin was odd to him, he’d never worn anything that short in public, but the look on V’s face made it all worth it to him. They didn’t laugh like he’d been expecting them to, instead clapping their hands and going on about how relieved they were that the shorts actually fit. He did a quick turn for them, and they nodded in satisfaction.

“I think it’s about time we caught up to Val, did y’all remember to bring soda?”

“Only the finest Mountain Dew the 7/11 could provide, M’lady,” V grinned.

“Than shall we be going, M’lord?” Wes held out his arm.

“Indubitably.” V linked their arm through his and they wandered through the crowd, searching for Valerie’s silver Subaru.

“Wes! V! Over here!” Val called, waving the hand that wasn’t holding a Mountain Dew at her friends. The two of them waved back and jogged toward her.

“Hey Val, long time no see,” Wes grinned as he pulled her into a hug.

“I missed ya, Weston,” Val reached up to ruffle his hair, but Wes dodged, pulling her into a headlock instead.

“Missed ya too, Grey,” He gave her a noogie and released her, leaving her free to jump onto him and boost herself high enough to get revenge.

“Aww, adorable! Old lovebirds rekindling an old flame?” V fluttered their eyelashes at their friends, who immediately recoiled.

“Ew, no! Wes? If I had to pick a guy, maybe. And that’s a hard maybe. I’m too gay for this.” Valerie picked up her can from the hood of her car and took a swig.

“Yeah! She’s like my little sister!”

“Hey, I’m older than you!”

“By like two weeks!”

V broke into laughter, “Cool it lovebirds, I’m only joking.”

Val and Wes rolled their eyes at V, who was now on the ground, rolling with laughter.

“Permission to pour some soda out onto our hilarious friend’s head?” Val asked teasingly.

“Permission granted! Fire at will!” Wes saluted. Val tipped her can enough to sprinkle V with the sticky green drink. They got to their feet, still laughing, and lunged for Val’s can. They knocked it backward, spilling soda all over Val’s shirt.

“EEK,” She squealed, “You’ll pay for this, Trash Man, If it’s the last thing I do!”

She tried to push the can towards V, but they still had a grip on her arm. They tugged the can back and forth for a few seconds before it crumpled under the pressure.

“Shit!” Val swore, letting go of the can and cradling her palm. “I think I cut myself.”

V dropped the can, game of tag forgotten, and crowded next to their friend. Wes joined their huddle.

“I think I have a first aid kit in my truck. How bad is it?” He asked.

Val opened her hand to reveal a small, but deep wound on the side of her palm.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault, if I hadn’t-” V began.

“Naw, it was as much my fault as yours. Anyway, we were having fun, and it’s really just a scratch. Keep focused on those Aliens, Private!” Val reassured them.

“Aye aye, Captain!”

Wes walked back to his truck, ignoring the stares of passerby. He grabbed his first aid kid (thank god for boy scouts) and walked back to Val’s car.

“So,” Wes ripped open a disinfecting wipe with his teeth and got to work cleaning her hand of blood. “How’s your dad?”

“He’s doing-” She drew in a sharp breath as he dabbed along the wound with a clean wipe. “Fine. The new job’s working out great, he’s happier than I’ve seen him in a while.”

Wes nodded and began wrapping her hand in gauze, “I’m glad. He wasn’t himself when you left.”

“It really all did work out for the better, didn’t it,” V smiled and handed Wes a length of medical tape. “Oh! I forgot! Val, show Wes what your ass says!”

She groaned, “Do I have to?”

V scowled, “Of course you have to, it was your idea!”

“I was just joking!”

“Tsk tsk, I think you’ve known me long enough to know that when it comes to cursed content, there are no jokes.”

“C’mon Val, it can’t be worse than ‘100% Nasty’,” Wes smirked.

V gasped dramatically and feigned offense, “You’ve wounded me! I work so hard, and for what, ungrateful friends?”

“Fine, if it’ll make you happy I’ll show him my ass. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She winked at him before turning to show her backside. Black embroidery spelled out ‘Booty Hunter’.

Wes burst out laughing, which quickly turned to hysteric noises only vaguely resembling laughter, squeals, and snorts with shrieking giggles between them. V and Val couldn’t help but join in. The second one of them stopped laughing someone would whisper Booty Hunter and it’d start all over again.

“Okay, okay,” Wes gulped in air, “We- hic -should calm down now.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Val wiped a tear from her eye, “I am the Queen of Calm.”

V got to their feet and dusted themself off. “Totally calm. Calmer than a… something calm.”

“When does the raid start?” Wes pulled out his phone and checked the time. 12:00.

“Around, 12:30ish, we have time.” V waved their hand.

“I dunno, it’s already 12, maybe we should start getting ready.”

“What do you mean it’s already-” V snatched the phone from his hand, “Huh. Time sure flies when you’re having fun.”

“Wait, get ready for what exactly? I mean, we’re here, we’ve got our shorts on, there’s enough Mountain Dew in my car to drown an elephant, what else is there to get ready?” Val questioned.

“Uhhh, I dunno, stretch?” Wes shrugged, “It just feels like we’re forgetting something. What exactly is the plan for this whole thing anyway? Are there gonna be waves? Do we all go at once? This is a pretty poorly organized event.”

Val shrugged, clearly unphased by the lack of organization, “We’ll just go when everyone else starts running. I’m sure the start of gunfire will tell us when.”

“Look, if it’s making you so worried, we can stretch before. I’m sure everything will be fine. Plus, we all get alien Girlfriends, so it’s a win-win!” V put their hand on his arm. Wes smiled thankfully down at them.

“Yeah, that’s probably it. Yall must think I’m being a nitpick-”

“Not at all! You’re probably right, after all, it must be at least a mile to the base from here, and we can’t let cramps keep us from sweet sweet alien romance.” Val propped her leg up on the hood of her car and pressed her head to her knee, “Plus that’ll give us an advantage over the Kyles.”

V nodded and fell into a lunge, “We’ve been training since July for this, can’t let it get away now because we forgot to stretch.”

Wes bent over and touched his toes, “Thanks y’all, you’re really the best friends I could ask for.”

The screech of a megaphone rang out through the valley. A voice came through the static, “Raiders! Get into position, we’re storming the gates in exactly fifteen minutes!”

A cheer broke through the crowd as people began chugging what was left of their sodas and migrating towards the front lines.

“Well, this is it I guess. If I don’t make it out of the raid, put this on my tombstone.” Wes gestured downward, where he was holding his hand in a circle.

“Dammit!” Valerie chuckled as Wes gave her a playful punch in the arm.

“You’ll never take me alive!” V shouted and sprinted forwards as Wes moved towards them.

“On your marks!”

“Wanna bet on that?” Wes shouted back, weaving through the crowd to catch up with them.

“Get set!”

V pushed forward, using their small frame to their advantage, easily losing the taller one in the crowd.

“Raid!”

The mob roared, then began thundering forward, but the deafening sounds of the people were nothing compared to what followed. Thousands of guns began firing at once, hitting everyone and everything in the vicinity. Wes watched with horror as the first wave of people were mowed down right before his eyes. A flash of neon green caught his eye through the carnage. He ran towards his friend, who was standing, paralyzed, next to a few other survivors. He shouted their name, and just as they turned their head another hailstorm of bullets rained down. The first one embedded itself right into V’s chest, right above their heart. Wes sprinted to catch his injured companion, but by the time he got there the life was already draining from their eyes.

“V! V, can you hear me? Don’t go into the light, hold on, ok? You’ve got this, V, answer me!”

He pressed his head to their chest, a weak heartbeat answered him. “It’s gonna be okay. Shhh, you’re okay.”

Something wet dripped down his face, and he realized he was crying.

“...Wes,” V rasped out, then began violently coughing up blood. Little flecks of red peppered Wes’ face like freckles. “Fuck an alien for me, okay? Can you promise me that?”

Their body went limp in his arms.

“V? V! V, wake up, please, that can’t be it, please V, you’re only 17, please!” He shook their corpse, but to no avail. V was gone. He closed his eyes and let out a shuttering breath before standing up, still clutching their body in his arms.

“Second wave! On your marks!” The megaphone blared to life.

The crowd let out another, less confident cheer. After seeing all the carnage most of the raiders were less enthusiastic to ‘see them aliens’. But this time Wes had made up his mind. He was going to make it into that Government facility, and he was gonna burn that motherfucker to the ground.

“Get set!”

He laid his friend on the ground and pressed a kiss to their forehead. If it wasn’t for the massive amount of blood they could’ve been sleeping.

“Go!”

Wes screamed with all the anger he had in him and charged forward. Bullets rained down near him, but this time there were less of them. This time he had a chance. He saw the gate coming closer. He was only 50 feet away, he could make it! He hopped over the fence, ignoring the blaring of sirens, and kept running. He pushed his way into the building, where, surprisingly, there was no security. It looked like they had invested all their soldiers into protecting the outside of the base. His adrenaline rush began to slow down. He dragged his feet down the linoleum hallway, looking at his bloodsoaked hands.

“What the fuck just happened?” He whispered to himself, still shellshocked. A flicker of light caught his eye. Grateful for a distraction, he turned his attention to what looked like a futuristic control panel. The buttons were labeled in some sort of code, their luminescent surfaces grinning up at him.

“Looking for me, Short-Shorts?” A calm voice echoed through the hall. Wes whipped around, ready for a fight.

“Why so on edge, Ginger? Surely I’m not that intimidating.” It purred.

“Who are you?!” Wes shouted. He winced at the echo. Did he really sound that unhinged?

“On your left.”

He turned and found himself face to face with the most beautiful boy he’d ever seen. He looked about his age, maybe 17. His skin was tan, but had a slight blueish tint, as if he’d been without oxygen for a while. Poking from his tuft of pearly white hair was a pair of blur antenna. He had a small build, maybe 5 feet tall at best, but was floating at eye level with Wes. Speaking of his eyes, they were quite possibly the most gorgeous thing about him. He had eyes greener and glowyer (is that even a word? Either way it was true.) than toxic waste, his pupils were like a cat’s, slit down the middle. He was clothed in a baggy black prison jumpsuit. He looked almost alien. Wes realized with a start that he must be an alien.

“Are you done staring?” The boy asked, snapping Wes out of his trance. “It won’t be long before the guards realize you’re in here, and I’d rather get out without a bullet hole.”

“I- I don’t- what are you?” Wes stammered.

“I’m Project Phantom, or Danny if you prefer. What’s your name?”

“I’m… Wes?”

#danny phantom #danny phantom fic #fanfiction #my writing #wes weston #danny phantom au #area 51 au #unidentified flying ship #wes x danny #danny x wes #wes/danny #danny/wes #i dont know what else to tag this #Gayrea 51

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quentinxdelancret · 4 years

Text

Discord Text Thread || Quentin & Dorian

Discord thread featuring: Quentin and Dorian

When: September 26th-27th

Mentions: Jaycee

Description:Quentin texts Dorian after their date and then asks if it’s okay to sleep over. He texts him again the next day and things get a little more personal. {sleep over thread to follow}

Trigger Warning: drug mentions and light dirty talk.

Quentin. I bet you can’t guess what’s been on my mind all day....

DORIAN What’s been on your mind all day, handsome?

Quentin. You!

DORIAN Awww.

Quentin. You doing alright today, darlin? Not missing me too bad are ya?

DORIAN Yeah, I’m doing okay. I am missing you though. How are you?

Quentin. That’s good. Not that you’re missing me, but that you’re good. I’ve been pretty good myself, can’t complain. Definitely missing you too though.

DORIAN it’s good to know the feeling is mutual. what have you been up to today?

Quentin. It is isn’t it? I haven’t been up to too much. Working on my next cover and leveling out. How about you?

DORIAN Ooh, what’s the plan for the next cover? I’ve just been chilling today tbh. Having a lazy day.

Quentin. Well, since you’ve been on my mind nonstop, I was thinking something sweet. It seemed relevant. oh yeah? Want some company?

DORIAN Yeah? Like what? Yes please.

Quentin. Hmm, I’d tell you but I don’t wanna ruin the element of surprise. ahhh, thank god!

DORIAN So cute.

Quentin. Yes, yes you are.

DORIAN Nooo, you.

Quentin. Me? Naaah. It’s totally you babe.

DORIAN I refuse to accept that. it’s you.

Quentin. Ughh, fine. But only if I get to kiss you again. Fair?

DORIAN You can kiss me as much as you want.

Quentin. Oh yeah?

DORIAN Yeah.

Quentin. Ooooh, I hope I don’t make you regret that lol how are you so perfect?

DORIAN I doubt you will. I’m not.

Quentin. Seriously, I’m gonna smother you if you keep being so hard on yourself. New rule, you can only be hard on me

DORIAN I’m sorry. When you’ve been through as much awful shit as I have, it’s difficult not to be hard on yourself.

Quentin. I understand, I promise I do. But, you’re so fuckin amazing, baby. You should know that, and I’m gonna make sure you realize it every time I’m around.

DORIAN You’re gonna make me melt. You can’t be that sexy, speak French, and be nice to me. I’m gonna fall head over heels.

Quentin. I could say the exact same thing about you. Except the French part.. but I could teach you the basics. like French kissing

DORIAN I think I already know quite a bit about that.

Quentin. Yep, yeah you definitely do. You kiss like a pro.

DORIAN Heh. Thanks babe. You’re a pretty damn good kisser yourself.

Quentin. I’m glad you think so. Cause my lips are gonna be all over you every chance I get

DORIAN All over me?

Quentin. Uhm... yes?

DORIAN You hesitated.

Quentin. ha, hardly. Just don’t wanna get punished before I get started.

DORIAN You totally did hesitate. Why would you be punished?

Quentin. Oh, darlin. You can trust when I say there would definitely be no hesitation. Idk, haha. You’re the one who likes to be in control.

DORIAN Okay, good to know. You’d have to give me a reason to punish you and so far I have not seen one.

Quentin. That’s good. I’m not sure how extent these punishments get. But, I’m not ready to find out just yet either.

DORIAN Heh.

Quentin. Something about the way you say that always seems so naughty. I like it!

DORIAN Good.

Quentin. soooo... can I stay the night?

DORIAN Oh... yes. I’d like that.

Quentin. you hesitated.

DORIAN Only because I wasn’t expecting you to ask me that.

Quentin. No? I’m pretty addicted to you.

DORIAN oh are you?

Quentin. I am, It’s terrible. I can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t do anything without wanting to be with you.

DORIAN I have that much of an effect on you already?

Quentin. Is that bad? That’s totally bad isn’t it?

DORIAN No. it’s sweet and flattering.

Quentin. Are you gonna break my heart Dorian Taylor?

DORIAN No! I don’t have any intention to at least. Are you gonna break mine?

Quentin. Hmm, depends on whether you break mine first.

DORIAN 😒

Quentin. Don’t make that face. I don’t want to break your heart. I just wanna love you

DORIAN oh you just wanna love me huh? & I can make that face if I want to.

Quentin. that’s what I said. fine be mean lol

DORIAN Cutie. I’m not mean.

Quentin. you’re right, you’re not.

DORIAN I can be if I’m pushed to the point where I feel like someone deserves it. But not for no reason.

Quentin. I feel that. Me too.

DORIAN Mhm.

Quentin. you don’t believe me? Haha

DORIAN No, I believe you. I just didn’t know how else to respond lol.

Quentin. Ah, haha okay. I’m really not that mean ever. Maybe a little cold but not really mean.

DORIAN Good to know, baby.

Quentin. I don’t think I’d ever be cold with you though. You’re a too sweet.

DORIAN You’re my bad boy with a soft spot for only me huh?

Quentin. haha you think I’m a bad boy? I definitely have a soft spot for only you though.

DORIAN you told me you were.

Quentin. Oh hahaha Maybe I’m a little bad

DORIAN

😅

Quentin. 🙈

DORIAN you’re so cuuuute.

Quentin. I’m something. Hahah

DORIAN You’re sexy and charming.

Quentin. Oh, wow. Smooth.

DORIAN Heh.

[ THE NEXT DAY SEPTEMBER 27TH ]

Quentin. I swear people think I’m crazy. All I do is smile idiotically at my phone lol

DORIAN You’re so adorable. What do you have going on today? I was sad when you had to leave.

Quentin. I did have an interview. But it’s over now, and I’m just laying on my couch talking to you.

DORIAN an interview?

Quentin. Yeah, KJ 104.3 The buzzz

DORIAN Oohhh interesting.

Quentin. Yeah, it was alright. But they always give me shit for starting out as a cliche cover band and continuing to do covers.

DORIAN Fuck them then.

Quentin. Yeah, fuck em all! Doesn’t help my brother, aka my drummer is on holiday. So I was solo

DORIAN I miss you.

Quentin. aww babe. I miss you too, very much! do you wanna see me?

DORIAN 🙈 😘 Yes.

Quentin. I can come back over.

DORIAN Do you want to?

Quentin. Yes, I do.

DORIAN Okay great.. I didn’t wanna pressure you into doing something you didn’t feel like doing.

Quentin. I always wanna see you

DORIAN Yeah? Glad it’s not just me.

Quentin. Oh yeah, definitely not just you darlin.

DORIAN You are soooo hot.

Quentin. you keep making my blush. you’re hot. So scorching baby

DORIAN Awww, I bet you look so cute when you blush. Thank you babe.

Quentin. I think we have a real issue here

DORIAN What’s that?

Quentin. I don’t know how I’m ever gonna keep my hands off of you

DORIAN I’d say you don’t have to but there are some places where you have to keep your hands to yourself lol.

Quentin. some places?

DORIAN Yeah there are some public places where we could get in trouble for being too handsy.

Quentin. oh haha. I thought you meant on your body

DORIAN omg lol. No.

Quentin. ha, good to know.

DORIAN 🤣

Quentin. could you imagine? You can touch me every where. Just not there

DORIAN Lol. I’m sure there are people like that, I’m just not one of them.

Quentin. yeah, no Christian Grey here thanks

DORIAN Lmaooo.

Quentin. Although, I did use to have an use with somethiiiing ha I’ll keep that to myself for now though

DORIAN you used to have what now?

Quentin. nothing lmao

DORIAN it just seemed like you made a typo lol.

Quentin. maybe I did

DORIAN I’m just confused

Quentin. No I definitely did lmao just go with it lmao

DORIAN I can’t I need to know what you were trying to say.

Quentin. lmao God I was just trying to say, I used to have an issue with a certain something. But not anymore

DORIAN Hmm. I probably wouldn’t have understood what you meant anyway, since I refuse to read the books or see those movies.

Quentin. You refuse? I wasn’t actually referring to the movie though lol. Just myself in general.

DORIAN Yeah. I’ve read a couple excerpts online and have read a bunch of think pieces about how it’s not a positive representation of the BDSM community. oh okay. Thought you were referencing the books or movies.

Quentin. Nah, I’ve seen the movies and they kinda suck. But the books, just wow. I don’t care about any of those though. Just you and me

DORIAN The writing that I did read from the first book was... very poor. But idk, maybe it improved throughout the series who knows. How romantic. Are you almost here?

Quentin. Yeah, it’s not very good at all. I am, just stopped for some rolling papers. Do you smoke?

DORIAN Nah, haven’t smoked in years lol. I don’t mind if you do though.

Quentin. That’s awesome! I applaud you. It’s a nasty habit, but I wasn’t actually talking about cigarettes lol

DORIAN I know what you’re talking about lol.

Quentin. well okay then

DORIAN at least I’m pretty sure I do.

Quentin. Hahaha. I was just talking the magical grass.

DORIAN okay so I was right lol.

Quentin. I don’t really smoke anything else besides cigarettes which is gross

DORIAN people smoke a lot of things nowadays.

Quentin. Like opiummm that shits whack ha

DORIAN yeahhh... y i k e s.

Quentin. I did that once when I was like 19z suddenly I was 20 and I didn’t remember shit lmao -z maybe I don’t need any more weed lmao

DORIAN oh shit lol. I’ve never done any hard drugs, I’m proud to say.

Quentin. Really? You just don’t want to... or?

DORIAN Don’t want to.

Quentin. That’s cool. I wish I had your will power

DORIAN I’ve always been really strong minded.

Quentin. that’s good though. Where do you stand on other people doing them?

DORIAN Um. I can’t tell people how to live their lives but I don’t want them to do it around me and I can only hope that they’re being as safe as possible. It would actually really trigger me if it was done around me.

Quentin. Oh, okay.

DORIAN Yeah..

Quentin. So, around you like... on them around you or actually doing it around you?

DORIAN Doing it around me. But also if it’s on them around me in a place where we could get in trouble if someone found it, that’d obviously be a problem too because I’m not tryna catch a charge.

Quentin. Right, makes sense. I guess this would be a good time to tell you, I have a bit of an addiction.

DORIAN I figured there was a reason you had so many questions about it.

Quentin. Well, yeah. I really like you. I don’t wanna mess this up.

DORIAN I really like you too.

Quentin. I’m a little scared to say any more about it. Not gonna lie.

DORIAN Be honest with me, baby. I told you from the jump that I needed that from you. The fact that you even care about how it makes me feel says a lot about how you feel about me.

Quentin. I just don’t wanna lose this, Whatever this is. You’re kinda intimidating ya know? But I don’t really have anything to hide. I do like to feel good though. Everyday. Fuck, I just ruined this didn’t I?

DORIAN No.

Quentin. Are you sure?

DORIAN Yeah. I’m just a little thrown off. And wondering what exactly it is that you do but also wondering if I’m better off not knowing.

Quentin. I mean, I’m pretty sure you’ve seen glimpses of me throwing around shrooms in the general chat. But that’s not my main addiction. I’m kinda bias and don’t really think it’s that bad of a drug. But again, I take it a lot, and half the time you can’t even tell I’m on anything

DORIAN I very rarely go in the group chat so no I haven’t.

Quentin. Oh. Well shit. I really don’t do shrooms a lot though.

DORIAN it is what it is, Quentin. Thanks for being honest.

Quentin. Look, I’m not like, I’m not trying to make light of any of this. But, I could totally go without doing shrooms. That’s not the issue, it’s the molly. It’s why Jaycee and I split up. but since you’ve known me, have I been like a fucked up mess?

DORIAN Molly? I’ve never heard of anybody being addicted to that. As far as I knew, that was a really recreational drug. And I also didn’t know you’d been with Jaycee. Oop lol. No you haven’t.

Quentin. Yeah, it usually is I guess. It’s just like I said, I like to feel good. Idk, it’s not a good thing to be addicted to or admitting. I’m sorry. ha, yeah. We were. And I’m glad I haven’t. that counts for something right?

DORIAN Do you have any intention on slowing down or? Not for me of course but for you. Because like I said I’m not gonna tell you how to live your life, I just want you to be safe. But if you’re acknowledging that you have a problem, then that gives me the impression there’s something you wanna fix.

Quentin. I didn’t really, no. I guess maybe it I found something that replaced that high. I don’t know. I know I have a problem, but knowing it isn’t as easy as fixing it. I’m sorry Dorian.

DORIAN It’s s okay. You don’t need to be sorry.

Quentin. Should I not come over now?

DORIAN Babe. No. I still want you to come over.

Quentin. You sure?

DORIAN You keep asking me and I won’t be. 😛

Quentin. Ah, crap. Okay lol

DORIAN I appreciate that you care so much though.

Quentin. I really do. I really like you, and how I feel when I’m with you. I just, don’t wanna mess that up.

DORIAN That’s so sweet, baby.

Quentin. you’re sweet.

DORIAN Oh yeah? Do you want a taste?

Quentin. Soooo badly.

DORIAN How badly baby?

Quentin. So bad it hurts. But like, in the best possible way.

DORIAN Then hurry up and get your sexy ass over here.

Quentin. yessir.

DORIAN 😏

Quentin. God damn you’re fire.

DORIAN Aw shucks. Making me blush.

Quentin. ha, and I’m only getting started.

DORIAN I can’t wait to kiss you.

Quentin. Good, cause I’m never gonna stop.

#text #texts.#chats:dorian #chats:discord #ft.dorian #ft.jaycee #tw:drug mention

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pinktatertots99 · 4 years

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Mayde a fic about nico thinking hes sick cause he feel weird when hes around rock and uno and/or musashi have to explain his not sick his in love.

ah yes my first nanba ship, how i missed thee.

_____________________

uno played a queen ontop of his king as he was playing a one self game of soliatare. the door to the cell cracked open as nico’s fluffy green hair popped out. “ohaio uno-kun!” he exclaimed as uno looked up and smiled. “oi nico, back from the doc’s already?”

“yeah. where’s rocku and jyugo-kun?”

“went to training grounds. something bout practice fighting or something.” he stated as nico took his seat infront of him. “so, is kaguya-chan still single~?”

“your so silly uno-kun, she’s never single mister otogi and kazari-san are always with her!”

“not what i meant but good.” he stated as he played a three on one of the three aces. “so, did the docs figure anything out?” nico hummed unsurely. “no. and i dunno what it is either. kinda worrying.” he mumbled as he moved to rest his head on his knees. tipping his cap up uno hummed then snapped his fingers. “how bout tellin good ol docta uno bout it then?”

“eh!? uno-kun your a doctor?!”

“well, i mean, no but i can read people well enough.” he stated, getting up and moving the futon’s ontop of eachother and to the side, nearly recreating a therapist couch as he stood next to it. “now come over and tell uncle uno what’s up.”

he giggled as he laid down. “your not my uncle silly! ...least i don’t think.” he hummed as uno played with a deck of cards in his hands. “well, i mean, lately my hearts been feeling really jumpy. and my face gets really red, and my legs feel like jelly sometimes.” he explained as uno shuffled the deck in his hands humming. “hmmm, and do ya know what’s been causing em?”

“i dunno...but everytime i look at or think bout rocku they always happen.” he stated as innocently as the wide eyed uno had seen. “hmm, do you think he gave me something?” he asked as uno sighed. putting a small portion of cards in his pocket he moved to drop the rest onto nico, all having hearts on them.

“boy, i think your in love.” he stated as nico picked some of them up confused. “...eh?”

“YOUR IN LOVE WITH ROCK!” he stated loudly shaking the younger lightly. “YOUR SO INNOCENT IT ALMOST HURTS TO BE BLUNT!!!”

“EEEEEHHHHH!?!?!?!?” nico exclaimed as he was shaken. “ROOOOCKUUU??? LOOOOVE??? EEEEHHHH???” letting him go the blonde sighed and hid his face. “our little nico’s growin up so fast!”

“wait are you sure?!”

“of COURSE i’m sure i’ve been love expert for six years! i’mma VETERAN of love!” he exclaimed showing off slightly. “now the REAL question is, what’re you gonna do bout it huh?” he asked as nico hummed. “i should...confess?”

“hmmm yes yes but you can’t JUST confess it. you have to make a show of it. show how much you REALLY mean it.” he stated as he messed around with his cards while nico thought. “maaaybe...i could write him a love confession, put it in his locker and then meet him behind a school?”

“...nico we’re in prison.”

“so behind the prison?”

“okay lets put away the anime cliches.” uno stated as he played his cards in another self solitare game. “you gotta really show it to him. give him a show of sorts with it.” he stated as nico nodded and got up. “i was thinking of using these at some point.” he stated as uno looked and gawked at the backside sweater and apron with the words “dinner, bath or me” infront of it with a big heart they were located on. “would these make a good show-”

“NICO NOOOOOO!!!” he stated as he grabbed both and tried hiding nico in a blanket. “WE’LL GET IN DEEP SHIT CONTROVERSY IF YOU WEAR THEM!!!”

“EH?!?!? i was gonna wear em over my jumpsuit tho-”

“STILL the fact you made the notion puts us in hot water!!!”

“we’re baaack.” both looked to see rock and jyugo back, exhausted and sweaty from training. before uno could register nico quickly rushed to rock making him shriek. “NICO N-”

“rockuuu you made me love you!” he stated innocently, smiling up as uno and jyugo looked shell shocked by such a blunt statement. rock’s hand slowly moving to pet nico’s head. “that’s cool.” he mumbled, moving to the stacked futon’s and collapsing onto them in a deep sleep.

“...ne ne uno-kun did i do a good job? did it work?”

“please don’t tell me my futon’s in there uno.”

“god that brick of a guy. guess we’ll see when he wakes up.”

---------------------

in the middle of the night as the three curled up in the one spare blanket there the heavy lifted inmate’s piercing yellow eyes shot open and face turning pinker then jyugo’s nipples.

“WAS THAT A LOVE CONFESSION!??!!?”

#nanbaka #nanbaka the numbers #idiots with numbers #nnbk #fanfiction #nico x rock #rock x nico #nico/rock #rock/nico #6925 #2569 #i made this #the pink one speaks

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puddlejumper72-blog-blog · 4 years

Text

This or That: Fanfic Edition

Tagged by @malcolmtuckersthrobbingtemple

Thanks for the fucking tag! I am new to tagging these meme things, but am no stranger to Malcom Fucking Tucker. i just fucking love that man, and the actor who portrays him. On with the fucking show...

Slow Burn over love at first sight, most definitely! As @malcolmtuckersthrobbingtemple said, it is more fun, and I always love the feelings that a slow burn brings out in me. I get to feel the same butterflies, and the stomach dropping to my toes, when something good happens.

Fake Dating or secretly dating, well, since anything government related is detremental to boy/girl-friend, I should think that secret dating is in. I also believe that Malcolm would be very fucking protective of Clara, and the gods help anybody who dared to touch Clara

“Oh no, there’s only one bed” or long distance corespondence: Well, actually having done a bit of both myself, (hubby was gone for 6 months overseas), and we both slept on a twin bed on a military base...not my idea of fun, but, I can see Malcolm and Clara doing a bit of both. They are both adults, and Malcolm being the gentleman that he is, cause that’s how his mam raised him, he would take the floor.

Hurt/Comfort or amnesia: Ohh...I believe that I have read some with amnesiac Malcolm, or The Doctor has become Malcolm. However, I digress, I love hurt/comfort. i do believe that both Malcolm and Clara both have so much pain that they both keep it locked away, tightly. I also love physical hurt/comfort as well. I would love to see a fic where Malcolm has to fight for Clara, or protect her, by taking a bullet or something. Oh the angst...

Enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers: fucking, fuck me. I know I have seen both. Best friends is sometimes so cliched, and it gets boring at times. Enemies to lovers, is so much more explosive. I just finished a fic today that was like that. Oh man....

Mutual pining or domestic bliss: fucking mutual pining each and everyday of the fucking week, and twice each weekend day. There have been some brilliantly written fantasies of those two characters fantasizing about the other. Besides, it’s way more fun.

Smut or fluff: Do you really even have to make me say...rather spell it out for you sweetheart?? (Said in my best Malcolm Tucker voice!) Tenative fluff goes along with the slow burn which in turn builds up to fucking smut! Literally!

Fantasy au or modern au: I can live with both. I can fantasize with the best of them. Fuck, I do it all the time.

Alternate universe or future fic: This too, I can take either way. I sometimes like for there to be a third party involved, say, Jamie perhaps, or possibly Ollie making passes at Clara, and Malcolm loosing his shit over at!

Kid fic or road trip: Here you go, kid fic with a road trip. Let’s get Malcolm Fucking Tucker out with his wife and kids, and watch him go Dark Lord if anyone dares to even think wrongly about his wife or kids. (Yep, I got kids, 4 of ‘em.)

Canon compliant/missing scenes or fix it: Well, once again, I do like both of these. There are some brilliant Doctor Who/TTOI fics written, where Malcolm is like in dire straights, and its up to the Tardis duo to help. The missing scene fics also help to fill in the gaps, because a lot of us are already thinking alike.

Reincarnation or character death: Dammit! Don’t make a Whovian choose! i love the idea that a lover dies in the other lovers arms. (Course, he could just, regenerate.)

One shot or mult chapter: I like them long and drawn out. I read a shit lot of fics. I like to keep my mind active.

Time travel or isolated together: Again, with the Whovian questions. I am partial to time travel always. Sometimes during time travel, isolation does indeed happen. Quite frequently.

High school romance or middle aged romance: Since I have lived for half a century, definitely middle age romance. More maturity, career in full swing, and just don’t have time for fumbling on the romance scale. Besides, with age comes wisdom, and knowledge on how to please the other lover, very well.

Arranged marriage or accidental marriage: Well, I could only see Malcolm tee total drunk off his ass for this to happen. Then, it might still be a stretch.

Sci-fi au or magic au: Whovian. I love scifi, and I think I can see Malcolm reading some Scifi, but not magic.

Neighbors or roomates: kind of the same as only one bed theme. I can see Malcolm as a neighbor to Clara.

Body swap or gender bend: don’t think I have read any like that in TTOI. However, would love to see Malcolm and Clara’s roles reversed. She is the Spin Doctor, and he is the English teacher.

Angst or crack: Angst all the way.Makes for a better story. Alas, with any Malcolm Fucking Tucker story, crack is on hand, both literally and figuratively.He just fucking cracks me up.

Apocalyptic or mundane: i would love to see the world go to hell and Malcolm live through that shit storm. I honestly think he wold become even more deadly, especially if he had to look after Clara, and say kids.

For my chosen victims: @staggeringlyswagstrawberry @omnishamblestexts @omnishambolichologram @live-or-die-make-your-choice-saw @just4xu

#ask meme ttoi peter capaldi

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tothedarkdarkseas · 4 years

Note

For fanfic writer ask meme: E, J, K, M, P(for any fic or all your fics), R, T, X, and Y. (If that's too many questions, then you can split the answer into multiple posts. Also, no need to answer if you already answered these questions before.)

Thank you so much! I’ll put these below a cut just to account for the length, and I pray Tumblr works like it’s supposed to this evening! I appreciate you having an interest!

E: What character do you identify with most? Is there a certain fic of yours that captures these qualities particularly well?

I really do not identify with Gorillaz characters and thank god for it, or most characters I tend to prefer! Haha, I know that might sound a bit strange, but I can think of very few characters I’d call “my favorite” that I also felt were a reflection of myself in a major way. Of course that isn’t implying that representation isn’t important, but just speaking for my own personal relationship to media– I live with myself all the time, I like people who live very different lives! Having said that, of the characters I write (all two, possibly three of ‘em) I’d say I identify with some of Stu’s worst qualities over anything else: being unambitious but craving reward, self-centered yet lacking in a concrete sense of self, dumb about mostly everything, overcompensating (to be fair, this is Murdoc as well) and so on. Despite picking fun at him I definitely have an affection for an unlikable guy like Stu, I do have sympathy for being sorta pathetic because I feel like I can access that.

J: What’s your favorite fanfic trope? Have you written it?

Hmm! That’s hard to say! At the risk of being an absolute knob, I don’t tend to be a fan of tropes, or at least what I think is meant here by “fanfic tropes” like uhh… the heat goes out and we have to share a bed, or that kind of thing? Is that what this means, the sort of repeated setups for fics? There’s of course a place for everything so I’ve got no real beef with more innocuous stuff, but I wouldn’t say I ever pick to read something because it’s got a “classic” trope. I’m definitely rife with tropes in the broader sense though, I’m rife with things I like and clearly just repeat, haha. I do not smoke pot, but I have a real affinity for characters who do, and this is evidenced by having like… half my stories feature that, haha. If a scene where two characters creep up to being intimate via sharing a joint/bowl/bong counts, that’s definitely a trope I’ve done and would probably do again.

K: Do you have a guilty pleasures in fic (reading or writing)?

Does the above count? I’d certainly call myself self-indulgent, haha, I like what I like and I don’t stray very far from it. I think unsatisfying or incompatible intimacy is really interesting and I honestly never get tired of reading or writing that. (Er, as much as I “don’t get tired” of writing anything, which is not saying much as I’m very bad and undisciplined.)

M: What’s the weirdest AU scenario you’ve ever come up with? Did it turn into a story?

The only AU I’ve written is Coffin Dancer, which is a story set in the early 1900s about Murdoc being a reanimated corpse and Stu being a gravedigger who buries/exhumes him. Sexy, I know, nothing hotter than… long paragraphs about digging. I think the occult element makes that one a bit weirder than anything else I’ve come up with. I’ve kind of entertained other AU ideas but they tend to be a lot more mundane, to be frank I just really like the characters as they are and I don’t want to change their dynamic too much. As a joke I once suggested something about a riverboat casino (Stu working there, Murdoc trying to pull a money laundering scam via currency exchange, potentially convincing Stu to go in on the scam with him) and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t still think about it sometimes and question how to make it work, haha. I think it might be fun to do an AU again, but I think there’s just too much of a gap between what I’d want to do or be capable of doing, and what people actually want to read.

P: Where did you find the most inspiration for your story ?

Oh gosh, this makes it sound so important and I feel like the biggest jag going to pretend I’ve made anything that great or with particularly impressive roots, haha. A couple came from prompts, so that’s a fairly straightforward answer.

I first began planning Coffin Dancer because I was playing Graveyard Keeper on Steam at the time, haha. If you load up this game, you’ll quickly see there is next to no plot and it is simply a crafting sim. I just sorta… liked the setting, I guess? It is the 1900s and it does follow a graveyard keeper! Following that, I decided it would be a story about Murdoc’s skin turning from tan to green as it does in canon, but giving it a bit of a morbid tint, as opposed to the vague canon handwaves of Murdoc being “immortal” with no clear explanation of what that means.

Ampersands was mostly inspired by me being a big Buffy the Vampire Slayer fan and thinking it’d be fun to show a dynamic similar to Angelus/Drusilla/Spike, but heavily reworked to fit our characters. The first scene I imagined was the shoelace-tying one which has some resemblance to a shot of Angelus knelt at Spike’s feet while still mocking him, and that ended up being the very last scene I wrote (and probably one of the weaker ones.)

On Oysters and Black Water was actually the story that required the least research from me, as I already had an interest in oyster filtration and oyster reef restoration. By no means am I an expert nor is this story a genuinely educated look at this process (I am Genuinely Educated on zero things) but I definitely knew when planning a PB story that I wanted oysters to be used for a filtration system on the island, just as a little nod to something I find neat!

R: Which writers (fanfic or otherwise) do you consider the biggest influence on you and your writing?

This really puts me at risk of sounding knobbish, so to start with: I’m not really a writer. Fanfiction writer is already not the most impressive title, but even that I feel is a little generous for me. I’ve written things, but I struggle far too much and have too little dedication to pretend it’s something I feel “cut from the same cloth” as these folks to do. The writers I admire have “influenced” me in the sense that I’ve wished I could write that way, and I’ve probably/definitely ripped them off.

Some will find this laughable, but I’m a fan of Joey Comeau’s writing style. I’ve enjoyed every book he’s published, in particular the short novels Malagash and Lockpick Pornography, and especially his… err, non-novel collection of cover letters Overqualified. (I think I’ve read Overqualified more than anything else on my bookshelf, but this is saying very very little as you can sit down and read it in about 30 minutes.) The darkly comedic way he presents these ideas, how he’ll expand on these very offbeat details and veer so far from the topic, then take sudden sharp turns into something uncomfortable is just enjoyable to me.

Also somewhat cliched now, but Peter S. Beagle’s The Last Unicorn is a beautiful book to me. Beagle’s writing style is ideal for the fantasy setting, the poetry in his prose does not tip over the “purple” line for me (but I’ve always been unclear where the line is, obviously) and I’d really… feel like I’d accomplished something if I could say anything half as powerful as this book.

Shirley Jackson, (famously) the author of The Lottery and (less famously) We Have Always Lived in the Castle springs to mind as well. The latter in particular has a gothic tone, an at times strange sentence structure and an unreliable POV, which probably influenced Coffin Dancer stylistically and everything else I’ve done in perspective/structure.

But as far as influences, nothing more directly influenced me than @elapsed-spiral‘s writing and characterization. Old drum I’ve beat before, but it’s simply the truth. I would not have tried to write fanfiction again (after… many, many years) if I hadn’t found Danni’s stories and felt that excitement of reading something truly special. Now, it’s important to note that Danni is British so they’ll come out in hives if I praise them too much, but sincerely nothing in recent years has made me feel a “passion” for reading or writing like Yearz did. The oneshots Fairy Vale and Beside the Sea also deserve special mention for just being goddamn phenomenally good character studies. “Influence on your writing” could be misleading, in the sense that Danni’s biggest strengths (namely Being Funny, Being Realistic and Knowing What You Are Talking About) are among my biggest weaknesses, and I don’t feel that stylistically we’re all that similar; on the flipside though, I think so much of my “improvement” is really owed to Danni, aaaand I don’t think you’d ever look at something I’ve written and miss the fact that it’s ripping off Yearz in one way or another.

T: Any fanfic tropes you can’t stand?

Ahaha, alright, this jogs my memory and I do remember stepping on eggshells to answer this before! I mentioned above that I’m just not a big fan of tropes in general, but that means nothing as I don’t… have good taste. I never have. Famously bad taste over here. I don’t have any interest in raining on anyone’s fun or policing fan content, but I think we’re all perfectly fine just co-existing without feeling obligated to anything. More than anything else, in Gorillaz specifically I’d say there are some portrayals of their relationship that I find a little dodgy and I tend to avoid, but I recognize full well that many people may feel the same way about me! I also just like the characters to be compelling and to be themselves, whatever your version of them is. Of course my characterization is bonkers and mostly made-up and I have no expectation that someone else’s should resemble mine, but even if we have different ideas, I don’t like to feel you can slot them out and anyone else in? Which is why standard tropes like “coffeeshop” or “fake dating” don’t tend to be my favorite. Oh, I’m also a fuddy-duddy and I don’t love the nicknames, haha.

X: How would you categorize your fanfic reading? Are you a voracious reader? Do you carefully pick and choose? Something in between?

I’m not a very big reader these days! I’d like to offer you a good excuse here, but I’m just picky, truth be told.

Y: What are your thoughts on your personal satisfaction with something you’ve written vs. the popularity of your stories? Do you tend to be most satisfied with your most popular stories?

In total honesty, it takes all of about a month to become completely unsatisfied with anything I’ve written. That’s not like, a plea for sympathy, it’s just being objective. I write comparatively little and comparatively slow, so whatever growth that may happen is still pretty limited and it’s a little disheartening, even if it’s also my own fault for having poor discipline. I would not call any of my stories “good,” at best “good for what they are.” There are definitely some I wished did better, I wished with a stupid amount of sincerity would hit some magical validating number that would Suddenly Mean It Was Good… but after a little distance, I can always understand why they wouldn’t.

Hoooowever, some are undeniably worse than others. Based on both hits and kudos, my most popular story is my first one (I Couldn’t Feel, So I Would Touch) and this is truly baffling as it’s garbage. I mean, with no exaggeration I just think this is bad writing through and through, it’s truly just the worst thing I’ve written over the age of 20. I hoped I’d get this question purely because of this, haha, I feel such shame every time I see this story at the top of my statistics page. If we consider that to be the “most popular,” no, I do not tend to be most satisfied with the most popular story. We could define that differently though; for example, I think the story that got the most notes here and I received spectacular fanart on (a thing I just… can’t believe can happen, how nice is that?) was Oysters, and at a time I did consider that my favorite, I was incredibly proud of it when I posted, and even if I’ve grown exhausted by my overwriting too much to read it again I do still rate it pretty favorably compared to the others. So it depends on what constitutes popular! But if we’re just talking hits and kudos, sadly my stats page puts some of the worst stuff at the top.

#i've got to head to bed so i apologize if there are any glaring errors in this answer!#Anonymous #thank you very much for the letters! that's a kindness!

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crashdevlin · 5 years

Text

Plus One

Author’s Note: Written for @spnfanficpond Galentine’s Day for @coffee-obsessed-writer It’s a day early, girl, so treat yo self

Also written for @spnkinkbingo, filling my Meet Cute square

Summary: When y/n is forced to learn to dance for her ex’s wedding, she meets a certain green-eyed man whose brother thinks he doesn’t have any rhythm.

Pairing(s): Dean X bisexual!Reader, Past OFC x Reader

Word Count: 4772

Warnings: ballroom dancing, fluffiness, bad flirting, little bit of dirty talk, 18+ HERE BE SEX DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!! protected sex, oral sex (fem rec), fingering,

Wanna enhance your fanfic experience? Get Dean’s hydrosol from @scentsfromthebunker

You grimaced as you walked into the large open room with the mirrored walls. You were the only one in the room below the age of sixty. You didn’t want to be there. You wanted to walk out, entry fee be damned, but you had to learn or you were going to make a fool of yourself. Probably do that, anyway.

You sat on a bench in the far corner and waited for the instructor to show up. You were picking at your cuticles when the door opened and the most handsome man you’d ever seen walked in. You thought he might be the instructor for a moment, as he was about your age which put him a good twenty years younger than anyone else taking the class, but he surveyed the room and then moved to lean against the non-mirrored wall near the door. He crossed his arms over his chest and you couldn’t help but notice the way his biceps bulged under his plain black tee. Your eyes flicked to his left hand and you were happy to see there wasn’t a ring there, but you didn’t let your hopes up. He could be here to learn for his wedding.

The instructor was a woman who must’ve been in her seventies and she looked like she’d smell like the inside of a craft store. When she told everyone to pair up, the handsome man made a beeline for you, which made you smile. “You already got a dance partner, sweetheart?” His voice was deep, his eyes a brilliant green and you found yourself frozen for a moment as you wondered how this man was a real human being.

“Uh, no. I’m a solo.”

“Not anymore, you’re not. I’m Dean.” He offered you his hand, which seemed huge.

“Y/n,” you said, standing and taking the hand. Yeah, it was huge and you could feel calluses on his fingertips when they brushed your wrist.

“Go ahead and take a few minutes to get to know your partners. We’ll start on basics of stance in five minutes,” Mrs. Philips said.

You smiled, nervously, up at Dean. “So, we, uh, appear to be on the younger end of the spectrum in this classroom.”

“Well, thanks for sayin’ I look young.” He flashed a brilliant smile full of perfect teeth. “So, y/n, what brings you to an intro ballroom dance class?”

You really liked the sound of your name on his lips. “You first, Dean.”

He chuckled, hands going into his pants pockets. “My brother’s taking an introductory painting class with our… with this kid we take care of. He saw they were offering the dance course and signed me up without asking me, because he says that I have no rhythm.” He shook his head like he disagreed. “Your turn, y/n.”

You stalled for a minute, wondering if you should be completely honest with the stranger or alter it to avoid issue. The earnest look on his face made you decide on honesty. “My ex-girlfriend is getting married next month.”

You could swear his face fell a little at that. “Oh?”

“Yeah, and I was the complete idiot who made good on the whole ‘We can still be friends’ part of the breakup, so I'm now Bridesmaid Number Three and she's made it clear that I'm expected to participate in all aspects of the wedding, including this ridiculous and awkward choreographed ballroom dance between the bridesmaids and groomsmen. Guess she forgot that I can't dance.”

Dean scoffed. “Wow. Sounds like a high-maintenance bitch.”

You laughed. “Yeah, well, the guy she cheated on me with is a major league asshole, so they're a match made in Hell.”

Questions filled Dean's green eyes. “Oh, so she's not a-”

You cut him off before he could say the ‘L’ word. “Nah. Unapologetic bisexuals, the both of us. Just, one of us thought they needed to have a girlfriend and a boyfriend and the other knew what ‘exclusive’ means.”

“Wow. If you don't mind me asking, why are you still friends with this bitch? I'd’ve cut her off a long time ago.”

You shrugged, looking past Dean to Mrs. Phillips, who was doing the rounds meeting the new students. “Started out that I genuinely didn't want to lose her and now it's more obligation. The LGBT community here in Kansas is a little exclusionary. They tend to ignore anything beyond the first two letters.”

“Didn’t know there was so much gatekeeping around that shit. Learn something new every day,” he said, smirking. “And you'd think they'd know about the Kinsey Scale.”

You laughed. “Not what I was expecting you to say.”

“Good evening! I'm Mrs. Phillips, what are your names, dears?”

“Dean Winchester.”

“Y/n Y/l/n.”

“Well, welcome, welcome, we'll be starting momentarily.”

Dean watched as the woman walked away before turning back to you. “She smell like cinnamon sticks and moth balls, to you?”

You snickered under your breath. “It's weird because that's exactly what she looks like she smells like!”

You enjoyed easy conversation with the man… until it came time to embrace and work on your positioning. He took your right hand in his left and set his right hand on your back, just under your shoulder blade. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. You tried to look away from him, but his green eyes kept calling to you. There was no conversation after that. You were little better than mute for the entirety of the time his hands were on you.

When the class ended, he smiled as he stepped back from you. “Will you be here on Thursday?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. I’ll try to be here, too. Wouldn’t wanna leave you without a partner.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The next few weeks, every Monday and Thursday was spent in deep anticipation of the night class. Dean had only missed one class, the third Thursday, and he’d showed up on Monday with a face full of healing bruises and an apology on those full lips.

“You don’t need to apologize, Dean. I mean, you obviously had some sort of accident… or maybe you got in a bar fight?” you asked, gesturing at his face.

He laughed. “Uh, yeah, something like that. I still wanted to be here, though.”

You smiled as you took up a waltz with him. “Your brother’s wrong, by the way. You’ve got all kinds of rhythm.”

“Ah, I’m glad he was wrong in this instance. Never woulda met you if he hadn’t signed me up.”

“This might be…” You looked down, blushing. You couldn’t ask this question if you were looking in those damn eyes. “This might be a big ask, but did you maybe want to be my Plus One for Debbie’s wedding?”

“When is it?”

You ventured a look at his face. He was smiling and it made you bite your lip. “Valentine’s Day. How cliche, right?”

“Sure, I’d love to be your Valentine,” he said with a cocky smirk.

“You got a suit to wear? ‘Cause as much as I love the plaid look, I think Deb would probably throw a fit if someone showed up in something less than her rigorous dress code.”

“Have I mentioned that your ex sounds like a high-maintenance bitch?” he asked with a chuckle. “Yeah, I got a few suits. Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’ll have to give you my number after class, so we can coordinate. Where’s the wedding?”

“Kansas City. Not too far.”

“That’s good. ‘Cause I don’t fly and if it were a destination thing, we’d have to plan some extra travel time.”

You smiled. “You’re afraid of airplanes?”

“They’re flying deathtraps. I don’t know why everybody is so shocked when I say I’m scared of ‘em.”

You looked up into his bruised and battered face. “Because you aren’t afraid of whatever did that to your face? You’re big and strong and don’t seem like the type to piss his pants over being stuck in a metal tube 30,000 feet… you know what, that does sound scary.”

He smirked. “See? S’why I drive every damn place.” He adjusted his grip on your hand. “You think I’m big and strong?”

“And funny and handsome and oh, my god, I’m totally not flirting with you, I promise,” you said, your cheeks heating up as you looked down.

“Well, if you were, you’d be doing okay at it.”

You bit your lip and looked up again. He really was unnaturally handsome, even covered in bruises. “Is that face gonna be healed before Valentine’s Day?”

“Yeah. I got a friend who used to be a faith healer. He can get rid of these like magic.”

You laughed. “He used to be a faith healer?”

“Yeah. Other stuff became more important, but he still pulls out the mojo for me and my brother and Jack. The family, ya know?” He laughed. “You look so skeptical!”

“Look, this might be the Bible Belt, Dean, but not everyone believes so deeply.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the difference here. I know what Cas does works. Anyway… you don’t have to worry about it, y/n. I’ll be handsome again by Valentine’s,” he said with a wink that made you shiver.

“It’s completely unfair, Dean Winchester, that you’re so handsome while black and blue.”

“Oh, am I?” He smirked at you as you lost your footing and he had to shuffle not to step on you.

“Yes, you are. Distractingly so.”

“Well, you’ll have to work on that unless you wanna make an ass of yourself at Debbie’s wedding.”

You laughed. “Well, either way I win, Dean, because my date to her wedding is gonna be a lot hotter than hers.”

He laughed again and everything seemed a little bit brighter in the wake of that sound.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Dean met at the cheap motel you’d agreed to stay in. Rooms 14 and 15 to make things easy on the both of you. You spent two hours on your hair, another ninety minutes on your makeup. You could hear Dean watching what sounded like Scooby Doo in his room, yelling at Fred for being a ‘cheating douchebag’.

When you stepped out of the room in your lavender bridesmaid dress, you felt awkward and anxious. For some reason, it felt like you were going to your first school dance or something. Taking Dean to this wedding seemed to regress you back a couple decades. You knocked on his door, heard the television turn off as he got up to greet you. You gasped when the door opened to reveal him.

He was wearing a dark grey suit with a shiny patterned grey tie. He had a long black coat over it and he had his hair gelled up. He looked amazing. “Wow,” you both said, simultaneously, then both smiled a bit nervously.

“Purple is definitely a good color on you, sweetheart,” he continued, letting his eyes run down your body.

You chuckled, smoothing your hand down the front of the dress. “It’s technically ‘lavender’. She was very specific on the color of purple. But… thank you. You look breathtaking, as always.”

“I take your breath away?”

“Why do you always make me question what comes out of my mouth?” you asked, shaking your head as he stepped out of the room and secured the door behind him. “I’m certain that I’m not saying anything bad but then you smirk and you make it seem like I’m flirting poorly and you think that’s hilarious.”

“Oh, I don’t think it’s hilarious. I think it’s adorable,” he said, opening the passenger side door of his Chevy and helping you in.

He drove you to the wedding venue, a hotel with a beautiful outdoor area specifically designed for weddings. You were certain it was extremely expensive. Debbie was screaming in the bridal suite. You could hear it as you approached. You sighed, turning to Dean. “You should go get a seat. Hope your phone is fully charged. We’re probably gonna be a while.”

He nodded, pulling his headphones and cell phone out of his coat pocket. “Good luck with Bridezilla.”

Debbie was screaming about bobby pins. Apparently, whoever brought the pins had brought blond ones, not brown ones. It was a huge deal. As was the fact that there was only Diet Coke, not regular, and that there weren’t any electrical outlets next to the plush chair she wanted to sit in while she got her hair done. You found yourself wondering what you saw in that woman as you retrieved an extension cord and plugged a power strip into it.

“So, who’s your date? Did you bring a date? Because you’re paying for the steak plate if you RSVP’d for someone who doesn’t exist,” she bitched as the stylist pulled at her hair.

“He exists. He’s outside right now. And he wants some damn steak.”

“Who is he?”

“His name is Dean. I met him at the Rec Center in Lebanon.”

“And? What do you know about him?”

“About as much as you knew about Spencer when you started dating him. I know his name, I know his brother’s name, I know the name of the orphan they adopted when the kid's mother died, I know his best friend's name is Cas. I know he thinks he's funny but his brother thinks he's an idiot.” You shrugged. “I can learn more as the time goes.”

“You barely even know him and you brought him to my wedding?!”

“You barely even knew Spence when you left me for him, so…”

“Oh, don't even start this on my wedding day!”

“You started it,” you argued. “Look, I'm not trying to start a fight with you. Just don't judge Dean when you haven't even met him.”

“He better be amazing.”

That you managed to make it through Debbie getting ready to walk down the aisle without you or one of the other bridesmaids bashing her over the head with that vase of long-stemmed roses she kept bragging about, was a miracle. You were beyond relieved when it came time to grab your small bouquet of tiny purple daisies and walk the aisle. You smiled at Dean as you passed him, and he pulled his headphones and gave a small wave.

“Whoa. That's your date?” the Maid of Honor, Brittany, whispered. “I gotta hang out at the Rec Center more often. Wow!”

“You said he has a brother?” the other bridesmaid, Amber, asked.

“Yeah, but I haven't met him, yet. He might be a troll. I don't know. I'll let you know.”

The groomsmen looked all right in their black tuxes, but your eyes kept gravitating toward Dean in his suit. Even as the crowd turned to watch Debbie walk down the aisle in her dress with the mile-long train, her breasts on display with her sweetheart bodice, your eyes were stuck on him… and he was looking at you. “Well, damn, looks like we might be at another wedding this time next year. Someone’s givin’ you the moon eyes,” Amber said.

“Shut up,” you whispered, fiercely. Debbie was halfway down the aisle, if she heard anyone talking about anything other than her on her big day, she’d flip out. You zoned out when Debbie got to the altar. Spencer’s vows were ripped off from Cory from Boy Meets World and you seemed to be the only one who noticed. Debbie’s vows boiled down to ‘you made my life better with all the stuff you’ve given me’ and you had to literally fight back a yawn. When they kissed, you gave a little golf clap. “Can we eat now?” you whispered as the newlyweds ran down the aisle toward the reception hall together, laughing happily.

“Pictures,” Brittany said, rolling her eyes. “Then food. I gotta go help.”

Dean approached as you followed Brittany toward the reception hall. “Well, that was…”

“You don’t have to say it, Dean.”

“You know the groom stole his vows from a TGI Friday show, right?”

You snorted. “I thought I was the only one who noticed!”

“As soon as he said, ‘Ever since I was young, I never understood anything about the world’ I knew it. I used to watch the hell outta some Boy Meets World. Topanga was hot as fuck.”

“She still is! Did you see the sequel series they did? About the Matthews kids? She’s still super hot. Lawyer-milf in a skirt suit, yes please.” Dean put his arm around your shoulders as you followed a line toward the reception. You liked the warmth and leaned into him. “So, she’s gonna do her sunset pictures with Cory Matthews and then they’re going to do their first dance. Then there’s the first round of toasts, gonna be from Debbie and from Spencer’s dad. Then we get to eat. I’m starving.”

“You should’ve said. I’ve got a bag of M&M’s in my pocket.”

“Thanks, but we’ve got steak waiting for us.”

“And when do you gotta dance? And which one of those douchebags do you have to dance with?”

“After dinner and after Brittany and Mark do their toasts. Instead of the usual Daddy/Daughter dance, Debbie decided that the bridal party need to dance, instead. So, I get to dance with Jeff. Jeff’s the one that looks like Shaggy.”

“Oh, the goateed one.” You nodded. “Okay. Well, when they open the dance floor up, you and me can show ‘em what Mrs. Phillips has taught us.”

You laughed as he pulled away to pull out your seat at the round table closest to the long high-set table that Debbie, Spencer, Mark, Brittany and Spencer’s parents were going to be sitting. “If they play anymore waltzes after we get done with the Maids and Men dance, I’ll definitely show off with you, Dean,” you said as he pushed your chair in for you.

“I’m gonna request it,” he teased, sitting in the chair next to you.

“Oh, hush.” You leaned your head on his shoulder as the rest of the wedding guests poured into the hall and took their places at their designated tables. About fifteen minutes later, Debbie and Spencer entered. They immediately went into their first dance, two minutes of ‘A Thousand Years’ by Christina Perri. “A song from Twilight. Really?” you whispered to Dean who chuckled.

“Why do you know that song is from Twilight?”

“Because Debbie’s Team Jacob and it was impossible to avoid when we were dating. I know things about that series I never wanted to know,” you answered, watching Debbie try to dance with that train behind her. Spencer tripped on it twice in the two minute song.

The welcome toasts were mostly just Debbie patting herself on the back for being so beautiful and getting a man who could pay for the wedding she always wanted and Spencer patting himself on the back for marrying a chick as ‘freaky’ as Debbie. The steak was well-done, because obviously no one knows how to cook a damn steak, and the baked potato was wrinkly and dry.

But Dean made things better. He joked through the dinner, kept his arm across the back of your chair so that you knew he was there, and gave quiet commentary as Mark and Brittany gave their toasts. He gave rapt attention as the bridesmaids and groomsmen all stood and walked to the middle of the dance floor. You matched up with Jeff, took your stance and waited for the music. You were nervous but as soon as ‘Once Upon a December’ came on, you let your mind go back to Dean holding you as the crazy old lady taught you how to dance.

Jeff was supposed to lead, but you ended up leading him around the dance floor and two and a half minutes later, all three bridesmaids were folded on the floor in an artful dance pose. You hated it, but you smiled at Debbie’s guests and let Jeff help you up. “That was…” Dean started as you sat down. He looked around before leaning closer to you. “Pretentious bullshit. Debbie choreograph that?”

You nodded, chuckling. “She’s a big Disnerd. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that Anastasia isn’t Disney,” you whispered as Debbie and Spencer got up to cut the cake. They smashed the pastry into each other’s mouths, then Debbie demanded all the single women to line up behind her for the bouquet toss. You rolled your eyes and went to the back of the crowd. After the pushing and shoving was done and one of Debbie’s twice-divorced aunts had the bouquet in her hands, they opened the dance floor and the DJ turned on some pop music.

You were bouncing happily to some P!NK song when Dean approached with a drink from the bar and handed it to you. “You look like you need a little social lubrication.” You sniffed at the plastic cup and raised an eyebrow at him. “It’s a screwdriver. Who doesn’t like vodka and orange juice?” You laughed and took a drink. “And when the DJ plays my request, we’ll need you a little loose.”

“What request?”

“You’ll see.”

Another four songs of pop and old R&B and an old rock song came on. Dean smiled brightly. “What is this?” you asked as he pulled you from the edge of the dance floor to the middle of it.

“Kashmir. It’s got three-four time,” he explained, wrapping his arm around you and taking your hand in his.

“The drums are in four-four, though.”

“Just listen to the guitar, then.” As Led Zeppelin played, you didn’t listen much. You focused on letting your body be led by his, the way he held you to him and spun you around the dance floor. You focused on his eyes and the way they crinkled at the corners when he smiled as brightly as he was smiling. You focused on those perfect teeth in that smile and the freckles across his cheekbones and, as the song came to the instrumental outro, you focused on those full pink lips crashing into yours.

You dropped his hand, slipping your hands up around his neck to pull him down further into the kiss as he wrapped his arms around you to pull your body harder against his. “Dean,” you whispered when you had to pull away to breathe. “My room or yours?”

“What, Debbie doesn’t have some grand exit planned that you’ve gotta be here for?”

You laughed. “She can run to the limo with one less sparkler lighting her way. She’s a high-maintenance bitch. Get me out of here.”

“Gladly,” he said, grabbing your hand and running for the exit. You were laughing as you swiped your purse off the table on your way out, ignoring the looks from Debbie, Brittany and several of the other guests. You were sure you’d never see most of them again.

Your phone was going off with texts before you even made it to the interstate, Debbie admonishing you for leaving, Brittany cheering you on and Amber just letting you know that Debbie was livid. You left your phone in your purple clutch purse on the seat of his car as he guided you toward his room. “I've got condoms in my bag,” he said, pushing his door open and pulling you in with him.

He made a beeline for his duffel bag and you admired the swell of his ass as he bent over. He pulled out a box of Trojans and set it on the side table as he sat on the edge of the bed and smiled at you. “As good as you look in that dress, y/n, why don't you go ahead and take it off.”

“You first, Dean,” you responded with a smile.

He smirked and stood, pulling his suit jacket off and tossing it at the chair in the corner. His hands went to his tie next, loosening it and pulling it off. As he started unbuttoning his shirt, you got impatient, moving forward and grabbing his belt. He kept removing his shirt, throwing it at the chair and missing as you pulled the button on his slacks. He grabbed your wrists to stop you as you went to unzip his zipper. “Your turn, y/n,” he said as he toed his shoes off. You reached to your right side and pulled your zipper down, letting the dress drop to your feet. “Damn. I’ve been waiting for this since I walked into Mrs. Phillips’ class. Worth the wait.” He dropped his slacks and boxers to the floor at his feet.

You pulled your bra off, tossing it across the room and eagerly slipping your panties down your legs. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a fierce kiss, your tongue slipping into his mouth and sliding against his. He grasped your hips and pulled you against him as he fell to the bed. The give-and-take, the taking turns, ended there as Dean took complete control of the situation. His hands groped their way down your body, learning where you were most sensitive and following his hands with his mouth to seek those places out.

To call Dean an enthusiastic lover would be an understatement. You had never had someone so attentive, giving off happy moans as he licked at your folds, praising the taste of you and making sure every move he made was well-received. Your orgasm was a slow build of two of his fingers fucking in and out of you, his tongue lapping at your clit lazily. He was taking his time, not racing to your finish line like every other lover you'd had. When you came, it wasn't an explosion or a tsunami, it was a succession of small waves of pleasure crashing into your nerves one after another until your breath was forced from your lungs.

“Dean,” you called, breathlessly beckoning him up from between your thighs. He crawled up your body, licking his lips. “Fuck me. I want to feel you inside me.”

He smirked as he reached over and grabbed a condom, tearing the foil open and quickly rolling the latex down his length. He pressed his lips to yours as he slotted himself between your legs again. He notched the head of his cock at your entrance and let out a deep groan as he slid in to the base of him. “Jesus, woman. You're fucking tight.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back. “Please move,” you whined.

He chuckled as he started to kiss along your jaw. “No patience, y/n?” he whispered in your ear.

“No. No time for patience. Fuck me, Dean. We've waited long enough.”

He slid his hips backward and eased in again, lazily, slowly, taking his time just as he had when he was eating you. “We got all the time in the world, sweetheart. I'm gonna make you cum ‘til you can't fucking move. Then I'm gonna get you back to Lebanon and I'm gonna fuck you some more.”

He started a slow rhythm, swiveling his hips and nibbling and licking at your neck. You met each movement of his hips, your heels in his back working as leverage. That is, until he pulled your legs free of his waist and pressed your knees up into your chest. When he picked up his speed, you squealed and squeezed your eyes closed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” you rambled, almost chanting as he fucked you harder. “Dean, oh my god!”

“You almost there, baby?”

“Uh-huh. Y-you?” You opened your eyes and caught his lust-blown green ones.

“Yeah. Wanna get you there first, though.” He brought his right hand down to your hip and swept his thumb across your clit.

Your second orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks, a guttural moan pulling from your throat as your vaginal walls clenched and fluttered around his cock. He managed another three thrusts before his hips stuttered and he slammed forward to the hilt, spilling into the condom. He captured your lips again, both of you panting in the afterglow. You both moaned as he pulled his softening cock out of you.

He tied the condom off and threw it in the waste bin before dropping to the bed next to you. You chuckled as you snuggled into his chest. “Your brother really is wrong about you.” You looked up at him with a smile. “You've got amazing rhythm.”

He chuckled and held you close. “Gimme some recovery time and we'll dance again, y/n.”

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#cassie writes stuff #spn #spn fanfic #reader-insert #dean/reader #fluff #meet cute #galentine's day

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intothestarkerverse · 5 years

Text

Time of Our Lives (Part Four)

Based on a prompt from @geekymarvel

Peter is tasked with an important mission that requires him to go back in time. Finding himself at a gala for Stark industries in the 1990’s, he comes face to face with a young and incorrigible Tony Stark who considers Peter’s attempts to deny his advances a challenge. Now, dogged by a horny young CEO who won’t take no for an answer, Peter’s task has become much more difficult….

(STORY CONTAINS ENDGAME SPOILERS)

Read on AO3

Despite Tony’s warning, Peter had dissolved into a stuttering mess of unintelligible syllables that when strung together made little to no sense in any earthly language. It was only the sharp feeling of a slap against his cheek that drew Peter’s garbled babbling to a stop. “Ouch!” He forgot to be flustered and afraid in the wake of his indignation. Which…had probably been Tony’s plan all along, come to think of it.

“Snap out of it, Peter, I’d rather lock you in my room than in a jail cell, so spit it out already!”

Peter could hear the sound of footsteps, several of them, the static of a radio, the sound of guns being drawn from holsters. It was too late, they were only yards away. “You saved the world but now there’s a complication and I’m the only one you trusted to come back here and stop it and I need a machine you were going to destroy in that incinerator and I was supposed to get it but they stole it and I need to get it back or the whole universe is going to cease to exist in 2023.” Peter’s run-on sentence came out in a rush of words with barely a pause between them, but Tony was able to follow the declaration without much trouble…or so it seemed.

“Suit off, kid.” He tapped the armor of Peter’s suit with his index finger and Peter deactivated it, the armor melting back into the watch as Tony reached out, loosening Peter’s bow tie expertly with one hand while he ripped Peter’s dress shirt open with the other. Buttons popped and flew in every direction and Peter let out a little squeak of disapproval. “Play along, baby.” Tony hissed, “You too, Hogan, if you want to keep that promotion.”

“Yes, Sir.”

As the agents burst into the room with orders to freeze, put hands up, and every other cliche Peter had ever heard or seen on a procedural on network television, Tony Stark pushed him back several steps until his back collided with a wall. One hand was skimming the skin of Peter’s now exposed chest, fingers tracing every muscle, finger nails leaving faint white tracks over his pecs and down his abs as Tony’s other hand got a firm grasp on his chestnut curls and pulled his head roughly to the side. Peter clawed at Tony’s back, hands fisting around handfuls of his bespoke tuxedo jacket. Tony’s lips pressed a warm wet trail over his throat, teeth and tongue pinching and lapping and sucking at the skin until Peter was whimpering and forgetting that there were probably a couple dozen people in the room.

Silence.

It would have been possible to hear a pin drop, though with the lack of pins in the room at the moment it was more the sound of Tony’s mouth on Peter’s skin that was the only noise breaking the awkward hush in the room. That was, of course, until someone cleared their throat rather loudly.

Tony paused, hovering over Peter’s throat so that his warm breath was drying the sloppy trail of kisses and bruises he’d left behind. Slowly, he drew back, turning around to face the agents who were wearing a combination of expressions. Some were amused, some were turned on, most were baffled and a couple looked incredibly annoyed.

Peter was trying to make his brain work again. All of the blood had rushed from one head to another and he wasn’t sure he was even capable of speech at the moment, but Tony was still holding onto him, an arm sliding around his waist and pulling him in close as they faced the agents. Peter looked up at Tony with hooded eyes, pupils blown wide by arousal. What the fuck was he planning, and did it involve more of that? Please say it involved more of that.

“We got a call that you were being robbed.” One of the agents stepped forward, speaking with an authoritative tone and with a no nonsense demeanor that Peter could tell was setting Tony’s nerves on edge. Just the way the man’s jaw set at the statement told Peter that the poor agent was in for it now. Looking back at the government agent, Peter squinted and frowned. Did he look familiar too? Maybe. Maybe but he couldn’t quite place him…there was something different about him and he just couldn’t put a finger on it…Oh!

Oh, oh!

Not a finger.

An eye!

Well, two eyes, actually.

Huh, weird.

Tony raised an eyebrow, “You did?”

“You tellin’ me you didn’t send your security guard to call us in over some covert, armored foreign operative stealing weapons from Stark Industries in the middle of your fancy dress ball upstairs?”

Tony laughed. He laughed so hard that his whole body shook and he pulled Peter closer, nuzzling into his hair and nipping at his ear. Peter’s eyes flickered closed for a moment, his whole body leaning into the man before Tony spoke again, so close to his ear that it was almost jarring. It was a stage whisper, meant to sound like something private between the two of them but clearly for everyone to hear nonetheless. “Do you hear that, Baby? Happy thought our little role play was real? Isn’t he silly, Sweetheart?”

“Happy’s so, so silly.” Peter had no idea what was happening, but he’d been told to play along and playing along with whatever Tony’s plan happened to be felt better than just about anything else he’d ever felt in his whole damn life. He’d say just about anything Tony wanted him to say in that moment.

“Role play?” The agent did not sound remotely as pleased as Peter was at the moment.

“Yeah, you know…when you and your lover play pretend to make things a bit more fun. Peter here wanted me to catch him in the act of stealing from the company and punish him…”

“Tony forgot the handcuffs, though.” With a little burst of inspiration now that Peter understood where this was going, he attempted to add his own flare to the tale they were telling and put on a petulant little pout for the agents. He caught the look of amusement Tony shot him and felt the hand still draped around his waist drop to give his ass a squeeze that made him squirm.

“I’m sorry, Baby. I blew it. And I promised to blow you to make up for it. But maybe we can borrow one of the agents’ cuffs…now that they’re here…” Tony seemed only too happy to encourage Peter to play along.

“Wasting government resources isn’t a joke, Stark.”

“Never said it was. Didn’t waste ‘em, either, if you recall…that’s all my security guard’s fault.” Tony was so glib. Peter loved it. God, he’d missed Tony’s sass. He’d missed so damn much about the man, and the longer he spent with this younger version of Tony, the more of his own Tony he could see in him.

“In my defense, the kid is a very good actor and what I overheard sounded very convincing.” Was Happy trying to save face? Peter almost felt sorry for him. Almost. He kinda had it coming though, what with the May situation…

“Even though this happens to be the help’s fault, I’m willing to accept responsibility for my lover’s superior acting skills. Send me a bill for whatever money you wasted showing up here…but give me a set of those handcuffs before you go and do go…sooner the better…we were in the middle of something pretty sexy before you showed up. Unless you want to stay and watch. I’m not opposed to an audience, are you, Sweetheart?”

Peter could feel himself blushing again, but he angled his face away from the agents and hid it by leaning into Tony’s shirt. Emboldened by Tony’s encouragement, Peter was willing to go a step further. “I think we could put on a show for them…” He felt Tony suck in a sharp breath as Peter bit down one of the buttons of his shirt and snapped the threads holding it in place just like he’d seen women do in movies when they were trying to be seductive. He spit it out over Tony’s shoulder and looked up in time to hear the older man growl deep in his throat.

There was a lot of murmuring behind them and Peter could hear most of the agents retreating. Most, but not all.

“Look here, Stark, if you’re playin’ some kind of game with us…I’m goin’ to find out. You may think you’re some kind of genius but it’s going to take a lot more than you got to pull one over on me.”

“I accept the challenge, Agent…”

“Fury.”

“But you’re so cuddly! Ironic.” Tony chuckled, “Now, either pull up a chair and shut the fuck up or get the fuck out because I’ve got some fucking to do and you’re killing the mood, Agent Furry.”

“Fury.”

“Isn’t that what I said? Seriously though…Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

“I’ve got my eye on you, Stark.”

Fury’s parting words had Peter dissolving into fits of hysterical laughter against Tony’s chest.

“Fuck kid, I don’t know what’s so funny, but you better be very happy that I’ve got such a bad reputation or that would have never worked.” Tony’s words were spoken in a whisper, no doubt uncertain if they were still being observed.

His laughter over Fury’s unintended joke had managed to bring Peter out of his aroused stupor enough to remember what he needed to be doing at that moment, and unfortunately it was not fucking Tony Stark. “But it did work, so I can track down that machine now and…”

“Nope. Not tonight you’re not. Did you not hear him, Peter? He’s got his eye on us.” Tony paused as Peter burst out laughing again. “He’s going to have someone watching us at least for the rest of the night if not longer. You do anything suspicious tonight and the jig is up. So, you’re going to come back to my place and we’re going to make Fury think that we are doing exactly what we told him we’re doing and we’ll worry about this machine of yours in the morning when he’s hopefully lost interest in us.”

Peter wanted to argue, he really did. He kept telling himself how much he needed to argue with Tony’s reasoning right up until the moment Tony was leading him into his home. Then, Peter had to admit that maybe, just maybe, he was pleased that the night was theirs and they needed to convince federal agents that they were lovers. He was kind of hoping that they were going to go to extreme lengths to make S.H.I.E.L.D buy into that story…

—

Tony saw his butler enter from the corridor. The man was always too perspicacious for his own good and had likely been awaiting Tony’s return from the gala for quite some time. The young CEO was both notorious for blowing off such stodgy functions early…and for bringing home unexpected guests. Only the butler’s eyes gave away his lack of surprise and overabundance of disapproval at the party favor Tony had with him tonight. He was maybe a little close to being too young for Tony, but four years was hardly scandalous. If Tony had actually finished high school at a normal age, they could have even been in the institution at the same time, if only for a year. Peter was hardly a child and most people who knew Tony Stark would argue that he was a far cry from an adult. Himself included. “Jarvis can take your jacket if you’d like, Sweetheart.”

Peter did an obvious double take, his mouth parted in an adorable little ‘o’ of disbelief. “Jarvis? For real? You’re a person?”

“The last time I check, Sir.” Jarvis’s tone was as dry as a good martini and Tony had to smile.

“Excuse the kid. He’s a time traveler on a mission to the save the universe and apparently the future is weird.”

“Indeed, I anticipated nothing less. Is the Tardis parked in the garage, then, Sir?” One eyebrow arced questioningly as he looked to the young man at Tony’s side. Tony heard the boy snicker.

“Delorean actually.”

“Yes, you do have more of a ‘Marty McFly’ aura about you. Apologies, my mistake.”

“I really like him!” Tony looked down, amused by Peter’s excited tone and the way he’d just grabbed Tony’s arm. His impossible large doe eyes darted to Tony’s face as he no doubt realized what he had done and let go of Tony’s arm.

“The feeling is mutual, Sir.” The simple phrase from the butler brought a rosy glow to Peter’s cheeks that made Tony want to trace the flush with his fingers.

“I’m glad my butler meets with your approval, Beautiful.” Tony did not fail to catch the look on Jarvis’s face as he disappeared back into the corridor. Tony knew when he’d been had. Peter might not be able to read the affection in his eyes, but if there was anyone who knew the intricacies of Tony’s body language and the often labyrinthine nature of his personality, it was Edwin Jarvis. It had not taken Peter long to charm the man who had been more of a father to Tony than Howard Stark had ever been, no doubt because Jarvis could see how utterly captivated Tony was with the kid. Tony would never admit to anyone that he was pleased Peter had managed to turn distaste to approval in such record time, even if it was going to give Jarvis fodder to tease Tony for weeks or even months to come.

“Umm…” Peter was fidgeting with the sides of his shirt which no longer sported buttons and had been hanging open since their encounter with S.H.I.E.L.D. He seemed to be trying to find a way to pull it closed and keep it that way, though his efforts were failing.

“I would apologize for that if I were actually sorry I’d done it. I don’t think you’re really sorry about it either.”

Peter gave up with a little shrug and turned around to examine the entryway, only turning when Tony offered to lead him to the living room. Peter looked relieved to be somewhere with a seat and immediately took up residence on the sofa without waiting for an invitation from Tony. The man had to chuckle to himself as he took the seat right next to the boy, making very little effort to keep any space open between them. “So, I saw you plant something on that crate, didn’t I? I assume it was a tracking device of some sort?”

“Yeah, oh yeah.” Peter was nodding furiously, chestnut curls bouncing with the movement as he pulled down his sleeve to reveal his watch and tapped the face several times. Tony found himself leaning forward with immense interest at the holographic display of the city that blinked to life in the air above the watch face. Sadly, there was no indication of any tracking device and after several moments, an error message began to scroll across the display. “Huh? I don’t…”

“GPS uses satellite for positioning, Peter. The satellite that your tracking device likely uses is not in orbit at the present time.”

“Shit. I didn’t think of that.”

“Obviously.” Tony held his hand out. “Give me the watch, Sweetheart. I’m working on A.I. It’s a long way from being anything nearly as prolific as I’d like it to be, but I think I can put it work on your tracking device. If the AI can ascertain the details about your nonexistent satellite, it can probably clone them and apply them to a Defense Department satellite we can commandeer long enough to find out where those men went.”

“Really? You can access Defense Department satellites?”

“Baby, I hacked the Defense Department at 16 on a fucking dare. They’ve yet to find a way to keep me out and they can’t put me in prison if they want new, shiny weapons of mass destruction to blow up our enemies with, now can they?”

“Guess not.” Peter hesitantly removed the watch and held it out to Tony. “Can you…just be careful? I need it for the suit and other important stuff.”

“You’re really telling me to handle this thing with care, huh? That’s where we’re at?” He could only shake his head at the absurdity of that. “Yeah, Peter, It’ll be fine. I’m going to run down to the lab to get the A.I. set up to find the solution to our little problem. Just…make yourself at home.”

Tony told himself that he wasn’t in a hurry. He certainly didn’t almost jog to the lab and back or tap his foot impatiently as the A.I. booted and set about preparing the tasks he had assigned. When he returned to the living room, however, he was certainly man enough to admit that he skidded to a halt and stared in appreciation at what awaited him.

Jarvis had apparently seen fit to bring Peter a change of clothes after noting the disarray of his tuxedo. Peter was now standing in the middle of the living room in nothing but a pair of red and gold boxer shorts with some sort of robot emblazoned on them. He was clutching a pair of Tony’s sweat pants in his hands, a t-shirt thrown across the arm of the sofa waiting for Peter to put it on, but now he was just frozen…staring at Tony as Tony stared at him and delighted in the way Peter’s blush spread to his chest. “I…uh…Mister Jarvis said you wouldn’t mind if I…”

“I mind.” Tony was making no attempt to look away or alleviate the kid’s embarrassment. “I’d much rather you not be wearing anything at all, but I guess if you have to wear clothes…my clothes sound like a decent compromise.”

Peter grimaced but finally tugged the sweat pants over his legs, tied the drawstring in a double knotted bow to keep the pants up over his more slender frame, and then sat down to roll the cuffs of the legs up once or twice. Tony was pleased to see that he wasn’t in as big a hurry to don the shirt. Good.

“So..” Tony let the word hang between them for a minute. “You a super soldier or something? They get that formula working again in the future or what?”

Peter let out a nervous giggle. “Noooo…No, I’m no Captain America. I was…um…bitten by a radioactive spider.”

Tony’s look was dubious and Peter apparently found the need to defend that statement.

“I know it sounds crazy but that’s really what happened. I got really sick and then I got better and I could just do a lot of crazy things. I know it sounds nuts right now, but trust me…you’ll meet people who’ve had way weirder stuff happen to them over radiation than just me. I promise.” He was quiet again for a moment, staring at Tony and seemingly at war with himself. “Can I ask you something, Tony?”

“I’m clean. No STDs.”

“Uh…no that’s not…I mean, good for you? I guess. I mean that’s good to know. Not that…I need to know that…right now…or probably ever. Um, no, what I really wanted to know…” Damn, the kid was reaching for the shirt and tugging it down over his head. With as graceful and fluid as the boy was when he was fighting, there was something ridiculously awkward about the way he got dressed. “I was actually wondering how you figured out about the time travel and stuff…” His voice was muffled by the fabric of the shirt as he contorted to get it over his head and settle properly.

“Your watch. I noticed it in the bathroom when were making out, something I’d very much like to revisit tonight. There’s a Stark Industries logo on it. It’s not a model I recognized. At first I thought it might be a terrible knock off…and then you used it in the elevator. See, that kind of technology, it’s a couple decades out from anything I have in the pipeline and since I think SI’s intergalactic sales are a little lax at the moment, you can’t be an alien. That leaves the future. Plus you said you couldn’t let me die ‘again’, and that’s a can of worms I’m not touching because no one needs to know how or when they die. So that’s now I know you’re from the future. As for how I know who sent you…Since I’m the only person in the world smart enough to crack time travel, it means that I had to be the one who got you here.”

“Hank Pym…”

“Hank Pym! The guy’s a hack. One discovery does not a genius make. And if that bastard lucked into time travel, he sure as shit wouldn’t have sent you to me, Baby.” Peter was just nodding slowly now that he was fully clothed once more, watching Tony with his head angled downward in a mock display of innocence that Tony found both endearing and obnoxious. “Seriously, kid, you keep that coy act up and I’m going to give you something to be bashful about.”

“Promises, promises.” Peter said it under his breath, dripping with that sarcasm that had only really come out when he was wearing his mask, and his cheeks flared a brilliant shade of rose the moment he realized Tony heard him.

“So…you just always this shy, Baby, or can I take this to mean that we’re not lovers back where you come from?”

Peter’s eyes widened considerably and he coughed nervously into his hand as he shook his head vigorously. “Um, no, we’re not. I mean you’re kind of old…er…than me. By a lot. And I don’t think you see me that way. You treat me like a kid…it’s nice because you’re like the only father figure I have but also weird because I’ve been crushing on you for like…years…and there’s just…no spark on your end, you know? I mean I’ve watched. Pretty hard. I really wanted there to be, but nope. Sparkless.”

Tony stared at him in disbelief for a moment before rising from his seat to cross to the bar on the far side of the living room and pour himself several fingers of whiskey. He held the bottle up questioningly to Peter who just shook his head again. With a shrug, he retrieved a can of ginger ale from the mini-fridge beneath the bar that he sometimes used with bourbon and handed it over to the kid as he returned to his seat. “So, what I’m going to take from this little revelation of yours is that I’m actually going to learn self control and grow a considerable set of morals in my…old age, was it? Really didn’t think I had that in me. Actually, I don’t think anyone thinks I have that in me. So cheers to Old Man Stark and keepin’ it in his pants, hm? I’m adequately impressed by my self control, cause Baby, unless I’m impotent in this future of yours, I gotta say that I’ve thought about you ‘that way’. Don’t care how old I am. How moral. My sexual preferences are not going to change that much. I’ve just…learned to be a better man than I am now. Won’t the whole damn world be surprised by that one! The question we’re faced with at this point is whether you have a daddy complex and you’re only interested in me when we’re flirting with this Lolita vibe you had going…or if you’re willing to take advantage of Tony Stark while he’s still…young, virile, and happy being a sinner.”

Tony watched Peter carefully, noting the way the boy opened his mouth to speak several times and then closed it again before uttering a single syllable. It was adorable how conflicted he was, but Tony wasn’t sure he was going to be content to play with his food much longer. He was literally getting gray hairs waiting for the kid to scream ‘Fuck Me’ and jump on him like a cat in heat which was more what he wanted than what he expected. Finally, blushing again in the most comely way possible, Peter found his voice. “It’s not…it’s not a daddy complex. I…definitely still think you’re…really hot…now.”

“Not old, you mean.”

“Yeah, not old…” Peter rubbed at the back of his neck swallowing hard and suddenly looking everywhere in the room but at Tony directly.

“Good, because I think we’ve established that I think you’re one of the prettiest things I’ve ever seen. And since we have to convince the government that we’re fucking, it’s only right that we actually do.” He drained the rest of his whiskey and reached out with his free hand to trace the line of Peter’s thigh. “You ever…done anything like this before?”

“Not really?” Peter’s voice came out an octave higher than usual and was trembling ever so slightly. “I mean…not with someone else? I’ve read stuff and watched stuff…so I know how to do it and what to expect and…”

“Baby, oh baby, if you think a little porn and erotica has prepared you for a night with me, you’ve got another thing coming. I’m going to help you get in touch with a side of yourself you’ve never experienced before. I saw a glimpse of it tonight, biting off buttons, teasing me about handcuffs. There’s a whole wide world of things you’ve never even dreamed of, and introducing you to that…oh baby, that is going to be a supreme fucking pleasure in every sense of the term.”

#starker

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punkscowardschampions · 4 years

Text

Ronnie & Joe

Ronnie: pick me up Joe: rude you clearly did without me Joe: but I'll be able to do a twofer, yeah 👌 Joe: send your distress signal so I know where to point Ronnie: [wherever she's been working for a hot sec, I dread to think lol] Joe: you making a complaint about their cold-calls in person? Joe: tick off initiative on your CV Ronnie: my sides have split & it aint fuck all to the piss poor stitching Joe: see how far we can stretch your guts either side of you, fun Joe: did you self-sew or see one of your gun-wielding pals? different principle tats and triage Ronnie: then you can play a round of guess how much of this blood is mine, get yourself proper going Joe: too kind, stop me from charging the going rate for a while yet 🚖 Joe: what office supply did you use though Joe: if you were too cliche, you are going to have to sit up front and talk to me, proper cabbie punishment Ronnie: everything got nicked day 1 baby they werent about to waste any staples keeping shit on desks Ronnie: phone & a script is your lot Joe: there any drug we can act like anyone's calling it oscar on the street? Joe: you fully Joe Pesci'd someone with the phone, yeah? 👏 Ronnie: any gear that should go straight in the bin Ronnie: call it oscar Joe: you are wasted on 0 hour contracts, my dear Ronnie: not wasted enough for em Joe: join me at your local overpriced shit coffee dealer Joe: our bathrooms couldn't pass a piss test but they all only want the ⬆pers Joe: 💔 Ronnie: ill have an escort if you dont get a fucking move on Ronnie: you got enough student spends to feed coffee & doughnuts to the full force yeah Joe: say lucky you but security guards got as many hairs on their head as they got IQ points Joe: lot down Soho are decent conversationalists, unlike Daz and Gaz Joe: I did just get this terms though so hold on and you can help me 🔥 through it Ronnie: i dont get turned on by einstein & his pals mckenna thats your wank fuel Ronnie: easiest way to get a cunt off my back is to put him on his Joe: he only banged his cousin, that's nothing to waste energy on Ronnie: 💔 none of your cousins look enough like your mam for you Joe: why do you think i was searching Joe: daring to dream Ronnie: give a fuck about your nancy drew fantasies Ronnie: that schoolgirl shit is tapped Joe: the catholic schoolgirl uniforms have been overstated Joe: not all that in person, be the review Joe: nuns though, yeah Joe: enough mild peril to manage Ronnie: charlie will be gutted youve switched from homos to dykes Joe: you're the only one who's guts I wanna play around Joe: I'll break it to him nicely Joe: doughnuts, yeah Ronnie: consolation hole Ronnie: youve had shitter ideas Joe: it was yours, in fairness Joe: dunno about offering up my hole to every bloke at the met but if I put my foot down shouldn't be an issue Ronnie: i dont reckon a consolation footjob is gonna cut it Ronnie: not my first offence Joe: giving away how highly you think of my 🍑 Joe: what happened then, beyond telemarketing being worse than shitting out razorblades Ronnie: you wish you had 1 whitey Joe: says you Ronnie: if i had any curves theyd be cut off by now Joe: junkie chic before the habit Joe: some girls have all the luck Ronnie: lucky i need your bullshit heroics for this or id send you on a fools errand to sleuth the pieces out of landfill Joe: white knight > jester Joe: not my usual style, but for you I'll make an exception Ronnie: unless youre gonna say your horse fucking girlfriend dressed you the other night ive already seen it like Joe: you think her thing is budget kurt cobain? Joe: or that she's blind Ronnie: be blind by now if you catholics arent full of shit about touching yourself too much Ronnie: homesick for the horse & rejected by you Joe: what do you think its called Joe: my bets are on some boy band member she fancied when she was 11 and daddy was gutted Ronnie: or the 1st lad she wanted to meet round the back of the bike sheds Joe: you're such a romantic Ronnie: fuck off Ronnie: im thinking like a basic white bitch from kent or wherever the fuck you said Joe: you do it well Joe: no way her school had anything common like bikesheds though so knocking a point off Joe: getting fingered on the hellipad is more voyeuristic but has less of a charm about it Ronnie: write a song about it Ronnie: shes gonna be charmed by the namedrop Joe: return the favour Joe: she's making me help her with her coursework Ronnie: plaster cast of your cock and then what Ronnie: tell her you aint no hendrix & its been done Joe: charlie wishes, whitey Joe: I'll cc 'em both in about my disappointing dick Ronnie: ill pass on gaz & daz numbers Joe: god I hope the plaster ain't dried Ronnie: god aint listening to you nancy Joe: adds up Joe: that kind of dad, technically always keep an eye but going in one ear and out the other Joe: 💔 woe is me Ronnie: irish catholics aint got fuck all going on between the ears she werent in it for that Joe: fucked me up with her shit genetics then Joe: you manage to get a pen? Joe: shove it in my ear and dig it out Ronnie: pull it out of my neck & you can stick it where you like Joe: we'll let the blood piss out 'til it feels right Ronnie: im the romantic Ronnie: shut up Joe: alright, you need to be conscious to woo me Ronnie: couldve fooled me Joe: dead girls pale in comparison Joe: 💘 Ronnie: the boners you lot have got for open caskets over there i dont reckon youve ever seen a dead girl the proper colour Joe: just said you were #1 but you've got to be 1 and only, yeah? Ronnie: in your fever dreams mckenna Ronnie: i aint looking that much like your ma however much slap i put on Joe: you're prettier than her Ronnie: now you want me to drink bleach instead of having a bath in it Ronnie: make up your fucking mind like Joe: just knew that would wind you up Joe: gotta bring out some cliches Joe: you're perfect just the way you are, you know Ronnie: drop dead Joe: god willing Joe: he's being fucking slow about it, despite my best efforts Ronnie: ill give it my best shot if you keep on Joe: another one for the cv Ronnie: find it written in my blood shit & bile on this wall Ronnie: thats your girlfriends coursework aced for her Joe: beats the lecture I'm skipping out on by miles Ronnie: no shit none of em are dressed like nuns Joe: none of 'em hate me like you either Joe: so damn likeable, its a curse Ronnie: i dont wanna hear about all your teachers trying to pet you Ronnie: childhoods over golden boy Joe: and all without me getting molested once Joe: by any nuns or teachers anyway Ronnie: 💔 Ronnie: why youre such an annoying cunt Joe: abuse really humbles you, does it Joe: builds character Ronnie: gives you something to properly cry about Joe: got nothing on the shit my brain can make up Joe: idle hands and all that Ronnie: yeah youre so special baby Joe: it's just being mental or not Joe: if you ain't, you can go through whatever fucked up shit and be alright still Joe: if you're mental nothing even needs to happen and you'll be worse off Joe: some of us ain't got a chance from conception Ronnie: tell me something i dont know Ronnie: poster child for not having a fucking chance & any mental problems they wanna attach Joe: you better pay for more ad space Joe: call it karma, or dodgy genetics Joe: but I make a great case for abortion Ronnie: like i said before not one that needs to be put to me Ronnie: had more of em than youve had misery boners Joe: won't make you tell me about 'em Joe: no way you'd be as descriptive as the furious pro-lifers who act like the baby is fit to crawl out when you kill it Ronnie: hot Ronnie: shouldve called 1 of em to pick me up instead Joe: condemnation and loathing is meant to be my thing Ronnie: sharings meant to be your thing too yeah? Joe: only when it's inadvisable Ronnie: only when you wanna Joe: if you got to play oldest you'd know that's sadly untrue Ronnie: stuck being the cliche middle kid between fitz & the other one Ronnie: fucks sake Joe: seeking attention and approval because you're overlooked and under-appreciated? Joe: it's why 3 is a good number, any more and you've got multiple middle kids Joe: maybe I don't wanna fuck my mum, just missing all 3 of my own so much 🙄 Ronnie: they wish anyone could overlook me Ronnie: & you deffo do wanna fuck her so thats shit on your thesis Joe: yeah, sounds just like them Joe: suits you Joe: like the basic white bitch thing Ronnie: go fuck your mam Ronnie: im too tired for this Joe: you won't have no early start tomorrow sound of Ronnie: didnt have an early start today Ronnie: thats what kicked off this bullshit Joe: fair enough Joe: who wants a cold call at 7am Ronnie: the cunt who runs the place will be getting 1 off me til he pays me Joe: lucky him Joe: might wanna stay in your debt longer, romantic that you are Joe: attention very flattering Ronnie: what im hearing is i should tell his missus some fucking fairytale about the attention he was giving me Ronnie: everyonell be made up with the lie Joe: could do Joe: like your flair Joe: or I could come in, tell him you're mental and that he didn't make adequate allowances for you but now you're too traumatized to come back so he should just pay and we won't have to sue Joe: might get damages on top Ronnie: who are you my fucking school age carer like Joe: i'm believable, and more palatable than you outwardly Joe: anyway i look older Ronnie: than what 12 Joe: you have a baby face Joe: i look like i've not slept in as many years Joe: which is pretty accurate, as it goes Ronnie: do i fuck Ronnie: i look like ive shaken a baby to death Joe: child on child crime Joe: shocking headlines there, like that scottish girl who was fucked then got out and was someone's gran like she didn't kill a toddler Ronnie: see how palatable you are when I kick your teeth in Joe: it's a curse Joe: if you wanna lift it and be my hero instead of it being this way 'round Joe: love you forever, like Ronnie: ill lift your wallet fuck the rest Joe: already offered you my money Joe: not even a challenge, soft touch Ronnie: like youve ever been challenged soft lad Joe: go on Ronnie: youre already going on loads Joe: bet you've never heard about the traffic in this city, have ya Ronnie: fuck it ill go lay in it Joe: 😍 Ronnie: save the pillow talk for when youre offering me somewhere else to sleep Ronnie: would let you fuck me for entry to horse girls en suite if theres a bath in it Joe: where's your bed gone Ronnie: its got a hysterical homo in it whos only gonna get himself in more of a fanny flap cause ive been sacked Ronnie: ill take the wreckage of a 4 car pile up or whatever Joe: gotcha Joe: how long 'fore he calms it Ronnie: how long are you offering to spend buying him drinks & cupping his balls Joe: i get it Joe: you wanna wifeswap Joe: not just her art assignment you're interested in Joe: but you can just take my bed, I'm always falling asleep on the sofa or up the table and she'll relish at more chance to watch me sleeping Ronnie: your room got a 🔒 Joe: yeah but you're alright, it's on the inside Joe: not going to get fritzl about it Ronnie: youd need more than that to keep me in Ronnie: which youd know if you were earning off dealing with my mental problems Joe: not giving you a challenge either, don't get hysterical yourself like Ronnie: you couldnt like Ronnie: bigger pussy than your basic white girlfriend Joe: oh god stop talking about it Joe: i'll be sick Ronnie: no stomach for any kind of challenge Joe: you crack on Joe: i'll stick to 🍩 Ronnie: not so needy for some clean piss that ill be licking her out for it Joe: you should write this song for me Ronnie: whats in it for me Ronnie: got all your spends on a promise as is Joe: the fame and full writing credits, obviously Ronnie: fuck off obviously Joe: that's how we know you're not really a middle kid Ronnie: more shit you can come at your ma with Joe: I'll save it for the next holiday Ronnie: 💘 Joe: what about your dad Ronnie: i dont reckon hes up for another go on her if youre there watching Joe: 💔 Joe: i meant do you know what happened to him Joe: you might have more interesting half brothers out there, what I'm thinking Ronnie: got no interest in little fucking kids Joe: so you do know Joe: did he come find you or what Ronnie: dont get jealous nance Ronnie: did it myself like Joe: he meet your expectations Ronnie: what kind of fucking soft shit is that Ronnie: get a grip mckenna he aint rich Joe: a no would suffice Joe: though it's adorable you really kicked it like Annie over it Joe: you could've said you had none, or you expected him to be dead or worse, a useless cunt Ronnie: why would i say fuck all to you about it Joe: too painful too private Joe: gotcha Ronnie: wank over your own parents when i aint waiting Joe: the fact you've not implied I'd prematurely cum in my pants Joe: you're so full of hope it's equal parts inspiring and worrying Ronnie: get out of my face before i kick yours in Ronnie: everyone who aint gone blind can see youre a virgin Joe: don't be jealous, sid Ronnie: you cant tell your older sister what to do baby Ronnie: that aint how this works Joe: it wasn't good ever Ronnie: course youre crying about that too Ronnie: fucking hell Joe: just trying to ease your jealousy Joe: anyway, you'll be pleased to know the lacklustre results were down to my lack of trying, not theirs Ronnie: 1 less dose of the clap & i might still be fertile now thats fucking worrying Ronnie: keep your status choir boy Joe: bit cliche far as fantasies go but alright Ronnie: you started it Ronnie: trying to make me feel special Joe: no need to try is there Ronnie: not now my gag reflex has been triggered Joe: like that ain't been decimated by now too Ronnie: youre learning Ronnie: your teachersll be made up Joe: hope for the molestation yet? Joe: nice Ronnie: ease your 💔 & limp dick Joe: calm down Joe: might get attached Ronnie: do your grades the world of good Joe: you wanna help me with my homework? Ronnie: youre that shit in the sack you still wont get an a after giving your teachers a going over Ronnie: unlucky like Joe: so you can help me Joe: what else you gonna do whilst you're hiding from charlie Ronnie: use your imagination Joe: no need Joe: you'll be sharing Ronnie: cant stop you kicking the door in Ronnie: its yours Joe: just the needle, not the bed, like Joe: you're fine Ronnie: yeah youll be between horse girls sheets Joe: don't reckon she's strong enough to carry me Ronnie: only has to strap a saddle on Joe: 😂 Ronnie: fuck knows what she would fill your nose bag with Joe: the surprise is the fun part Ronnie: dont come crying to me when its oscar Joe: if she was half as interesting as you're making out, might stand a chance of working Joe: as it goes, probably be granola Ronnie: stick her thatll make her more your type Joe: come on Joe: she don't look a thing like my mother Ronnie: fucks sake when shes under get a 🔪 Ronnie: do your best like Joe: i keep telling you i'm not one for trying Ronnie: trying not to cry is as far as it goes yeah Joe: even my kiddy medicine cuts that shit off Joe: ain't been able to since I was 12 Joe: not that there was much call for it, my perfect life with mummy dearest Ronnie: the other week before you met me then Ronnie: gutted i broke your streak Joe: you sure you ain't interested in little fucking kids Joe: rearrange that sentence and Freud is having a field day Ronnie: make the effort to get here before i start to rot Ronnie: not trying to make that cunts day or yours Joe: you'd have liked him Ronnie: he rich off peddling that bullshit to the masses Joe: yeah and he reckoned cocaine was the cure for heroin addiction so he really knew a good time Ronnie: sounds like my not boyfriend Joe: oh yeah? Joe: well his grandson was cooler Joe: he fucked kate moss when he was like 70 Ronnie: anyone written a song about that Joe: maybe pete did Joe: he was a painter though so he painted her with her kit off, obviously Joe: reckon it's free for us to give it a crack Ronnie: your girlfriend painted you yet or what Joe: she wants to Ronnie: no shit mckenna Ronnie: every cunt there nearly fucking went arse over tit in the puddle she was sat in at that gig Joe: so that's what that sticky feeling was Ronnie: her juices or charlies Joe: that's called mixed media Joe: potential bio-hazard for her profs though Ronnie: worst theyre gonna get off her is thrush Ronnie: never met a bitch so clean Joe: yeah Joe: boring Ronnie: i told you to kill her last time you started being a baby about it Joe: you can have homicidal, sis Joe: boring but harmless Ronnie: cocaines harmless after heroin you & freud are still pussy enough to call it a party Joe: why it's a cure Joe: get you from comatose to semi-functioning Ronnie: she could be a cure too Ronnie: cold turkey Joe: weren't searching for a cure Joe: am i coming in or are you coming out Joe: can't see you Ronnie: cause youre comatose Ronnie: gutted this ex boss aint a cokehead Joe: not far off Joe: he your not boyfriend or is that just what we're telling the wife Ronnie: fuck off Ronnie: he couldnt fund your baby habit nevermind mine Joe: we going there first then Ronnie: yeah Joe: if we get your wages, we don't have to Joe: [come in boy] Ronnie: [a look like go on impress me by getting these wages boy] Joe: [when you can give it social worker chat 'cos what Tess does and the whole beeline of it all like you can be convincing enough that he's breaking some kind of equality law by sacking her without pay lol] Ronnie: [love that for you Joseph even if she won't let you know she's impressed and also lowkey triggered by that social worker energy] Joe: [honestly, lbr this man surely just wants you gone, won't take too much persuading] Ronnie: [literally and he's clearly in some way shady if he's 1. employed her and also 2. not called the police on her rn] Joe: [no leg to stand on sir, love this shakedown for you] Ronnie: [I bet they're all illegals and people being exploited] Joe: [its a mood, as in happens all the time esp. in cities, least you can hit him up again lads, long as he don't get y'all beaten up or something lol] Ronnie: [tbf if you do get beaten up that's a mood too] Joe: [yeah, when they find out you are not social and just taking their money lol] Ronnie: [love a scam] Joe: [the kind of nonsense have your mother rolling in her grave she's not in, love that we're starting that now] Ronnie: [I approve of the vibe, start as you mean to go on lads, all before you've made his poor flatmate wanna die lol] Joe: [poor gal did not ask for you as a flatmate let alone all this lol] Ronnie: [do you wanna skip to like when she's back and Ronnie's in his room or whatever because easy way to keep the convo going without needing it to be face to face] Joe: [works for me henny] Ronnie: [your turn to start boo] Joe: doubt she'll leave her room any time soon now Ronnie: 💔 Joe: yeah poor girl Joe: saying you got free reign, if you need anything Ronnie: i had it before Ronnie: not scared of her like Joe: nah Joe: what about charlie then Joe: or you just don't wanna upset him Ronnie: yeah terrified Ronnie: well sleuthed nancy Joe: that he'll get sick of you, maybe Ronnie: i fucking told you we aint the kind of family who get rid Joe: yeah Ronnie: dont project onto me Ronnie: we aint nothing alike Joe: i'm the one sick of them Joe: if anything Ronnie: yeah & he aint fuck all like you either Joe: I can see that Ronnie: youve seen him once dont flatter yourself Joe: and it's that obvious Ronnie: 🖕 Joe: what? Joe: i only need to know one half the equation to know we're not the same Joe: it's a compliment to him if fuck all else Ronnie: give it to him then Ronnie: hell lap it up Joe: i told you it's nice Joe: what you lot got Joe: but i'm not looking to get in on it if that's what you reckon Ronnie: take what you want pussy Joe: that's not your thing? Ronnie: what we cant both do it Joe: potentially Ronnie: dont remember you having any hesitation to share a needle Ronnie: grow a pair when youre not getting shot up Ronnie: maybe the dayll come when i dont have to spoon feed you the gear like a fucking kid Joe: i'd have to work out if i want anything but first Ronnie: yeah Joe: is it all you want Joe: the heroin Ronnie: mind your fucking business Joe: alright Joe: do you want to do my next tattoo or what Ronnie: i said take what you fucking want Joe: [come through with ink you've undoubtedly stole from your flatmate, also being more spacey/twitchy than normal like distract me gal] Ronnie: [love how old school & gross we're kicking this tattoo situation unlike when Ali does it] Joe: [which is absolutely the point, how your arms and legs don't fall off lol] Ronnie: [their other ones probably wouldn't have even healed yet cos lbr it's gonna be no time in between these interactions] Joe: [just loads of lowkey open wounds, like that isn't life anyway] Ronnie: [mhmm they'd be fucked already too cos they are so itchy when they are healing and y'all don't have chill] Joe: [all the reason for constant touch ups/ messing with so it casually never heals #mood] Ronnie: [I didn't think of that but I stan] Joe: [casual metaphor for your everything lads] Ronnie: [you know you can do anything to her tattoowise yourself Joseph she don't care] Joe: [probably doing some weird repitition moment you'd usually do on yourself which will be painful af excuse you] Ronnie: [she do love the pain you're fine] Joe: [good thing too, we're just here fucking each other up like this ain't gonna go anywhere else lolllllll] Ronnie: [way more #into it than I should be considering I don't even like when people shout lol] Joe: [you babby, they are not, obviously we're getting and taking drugs even if she's too naive to know why they're in such a state, maybe they can make a dealer come to them when they're feeling fancy/have already had loads lol] Ronnie: [take a moment to appreciate how few clothes she is wearing rn and how much that means this poor gal can and would see like we've got track marks and self harm scars for days even before you start on the tattoos lol, you're gonna get clued in before she leaves hen] Joe: [honestly props for not running home screaming tbh babe] Ronnie: [especially when this dealer comes because he ain't Drew like he should be scary af] Joe: [lowkey makes you work for it even when you're paying 'cos hates junkies] Ronnie: [at least she can basically fuck him in full view for Joe's benefit because the vibe is already there haha] Joe: [i truly love thinking about what the hell you're telling the flatmate when she leaves, she's not that stupid, also must fancy you if she doesn't report you immediately lol] Ronnie: [she definitely does that's not just Ronnie's bpd jealousy shining through like did you tell her you were related after the gig or what even Joseph what's the narrative] Joe: [also, entirely unrelated, when you bleaching your hair 'cos it looks so much better lol, anyways, he's probably had to go with a troubled sister narrative 'cos she's the type to be sympathetic and it makes sense why he'd deal from her pov] Ronnie: [that's gonna make the obvious sexual tension awkward but yeah I vote they definitely do it while she's staying because same vibe as the tattoo sesh so] Joe: [ikr, when you're blatantly fucking this will be very confusing, you should deffo only be about 1st year lol] Ronnie: [are you gonna give him another different flatmate in year 2 or like none?] Joe: [maybe for year 2 on you can still have some like a house share moment but he's the one you never see and has nothing to do with you] Ronnie: [that works definitely cos like I was just thinking how could he afford somewhere on his own] Joe: [yeah, even if we're technically employed whilst in uni by the orchestra, it's not gonna be loads, and that's how London be even if you're not a student] Ronnie: [how long do we think she should stay for this time because obvs she's coming back again and again but] Joe: [hmm, like he isn't gonna tell her to go so it's on her for how long she can deal lol] Ronnie: [just cos I'm thinking she should leave because something happens/almost does and it freaks her out because she's meant to hate him and there's only so much you can play off as doing for shock value when you're blatantly into it] Joe: [that makes sense, clearly it ain't gonna take long for that to transpire] Ronnie: [yeah a few days is what I'm imagining, but like enough that she probably thinks nothing will happen because it hasn't so far, if that makes sense] Joe: [i'm with it] Ronnie: [how far do we wanna go is always the question] Ronnie: [okay idea time, hear me out hun, what if it's like an unexpectedly pure/cute moment by their standards that happens in the day to day because the obvious would be to have them go all in when they are fucked up but like think about it] Joe: [that's what I thought too though 'cos it's more impactful 'cos it isn't as if it's gonna start with a kiss when it does for real like it's all extra and them to cover that it's about anything but being fucked up, so that would shake you both] Ronnie: [so glad we're on the same page here, like I can't think of a good example of what I mean/think should happen but] Joe: [we know the vibe, doing something vaguely domestic before realizing what you're doing] Ronnie: [so she gotta run away and nobody is gonna know where she is or what she's doing for a bit soz Charlie & Bronson] Joe: [you wanna skip to that time period now, this hasn't been excessively long or anything[ Ronnie: [we totally can because we can always skip back/add it if we think of anything else we wanna do while she's there etc] Ronnie: [I've had a potential idea how to start this so neither of them technically has to bite the bullet and go first like if you give me a rough idea what kind of thing Charlie would say e.g where are you/are you dead bitch and I'll reply here like she's in the wrong convo lol] Joe: [that's a good idea boo, probably something like you can stop hiding now and an update about whatever the fuck he's up to in his life which you can make up you know the vibe lol] Ronnie: [I was just like realistically if they were both shook by what happened neither of them are gonna be like oh hey] Joe: [yeah like it'd take him a while even if he would 'cos not just gonna let this go that easy, so it's a solid way to do it] Ronnie: a real scouse ma's meant to shout down the street when its time to stop playing about Ronnie: lazy cunt Joe: I'm only half if I'm anything, and you probably won't give me that any rate Ronnie: 🖕 not talking to you Ronnie: got the wrong gaylord Joe: easy mistake Joe: you not got his number saved? Ronnie: if this was my phone yeah Joe: newly acquired then Ronnie: mine broke Joe: my condolences Joe: wall or pavement? Ronnie: what the fuck does it matter Joe: just making conversation whilst you're here Ronnie: if youve got something to say go ed Ronnie: but if youre gonna pussy out as per it got waterlogged Joe: you dying for the uni update like my ma is a top performance, cheers, like Joe: rice didn't work or you didn't fancy eating toilet water rice after Ronnie: loads in common me & her aint just a pretty face like Ronnie: dont know what kind of fucking 12 year old in a k hole at a festival you take me for mckenna Joe: yeah, it's a shame Joe: soph says save some for the 🐎s Ronnie: cold showers work better for misery boners than they do a suspected od but these fucking amateurs aint know jack shit obviously Ronnie: shame & shameful that is Joe: I'm a better sesh companion Ronnie: ill take the 🐴 Ronnie: whole or in bits Joe: seems the possessive type Ronnie: thats your bitch Joe: who I meant but I ain't claiming her Ronnie: bet shed be made up over a uni update Joe: bold of you to assume we haven't had many delightful lunch dates whilst you've been having cold showers Ronnie: give a fuck if youve been eating her out at any time of day Joe: yeah well I'm pretty gutted you've replaced me with another newbie Ronnie: stop fucking crying Ronnie: i aint running a nursery Joe: ain't the only one sounds of your reply Ronnie: fuck off Joe: reckon he's over you getting the sack now Ronnie: not everythings about that mary Ronnie: & he aint my keeper Joe: just your mum, I got the message Ronnie: he reckons he can baby me it aint the same thing Joe: he's older than you yeah Ronnie: youve got a sister other than me dont act like you cant get your head round it Joe: not really my M.O. Ronnie: special yeah Joe: she's got a dad and another brother happy enough to oblige Ronnie: i dont need to puke up my good time Joe: thought your stomach and nerve were meant to be stronger than that Ronnie: whatever you think about me is bullshit baby Joe: just what you've put out there Ronnie: & yours is heroics just warning you this aint no od like Ronnie: aint gotta press eject Joe: you're typing Joe: don't think anyone knows you well enough to commit to the impression here Ronnie: talking Ronnie: everyone knows idle hands are dangerous Ronnie: but that dont mean i gotta keep em busy typing Joe: yeah Joe: know the feeling Ronnie: its used to my accent & everything Ronnie: more than i can say for the live cunts here Joe: you in 💘 with your phone that's dead cute Joe: its worse when you're angry Ronnie: not in 💘 with kent Ronnie: your girlfriend proper missold it Joe: fuck off are you in kent 😂 Ronnie: fucked you over if you were gonna come carry me out again Joe: acting like you didn't ask Joe: if you're going to now, do it, like Ronnie: if you dump her back home who the fucks keeping the leccy on Joe: only got a baby habit ain't I Ronnie: what so youre carrying me out & dumping me where Ronnie: anywhere near & im taking your money shithead Joe: we don't need electric Ronnie: how will you get off on me wearing your mams face in the dark Joe: would hate to waste your hard work, obviously Ronnie: what hard work Joe: liberating my mums face from her skull Ronnie: be my pleasure Ronnie: all play Joe: alright then Joe: i'll be able to keep up Ronnie: big talk for a 12 year old virgin Joe: hiding it kent you can't talk or type about it Ronnie: im not fucking hiding Joe: yeah right Ronnie: plain sight baby Joe: 40 miles Ronnie: & Joe: if you wanna play, you're gonna have to give me another clue Joe: know if i'm getting warm Ronnie: [a blurry picture clue] Ronnie: 💘 Joe: they new friends or old Ronnie: waste of a question Joe: how many do i have left Ronnie: 39 but if you need that many dont fucking bother Joe: you don't wanna disappointed so bad Ronnie: you disappoint me by coming out the same hole Joe: that don't have to matter Joe: plenty have Ronnie: yeah but i aint met the rest of your happy family Joe: you wanna Ronnie: 38 now Joe: it could've been a statement Ronnie: was it Joe: 39 for you Ronnie: 🖕 Joe: you wanted to go to the beach Ronnie: that a question or what soft lad Joe: ?* Ronnie: didnt know there was 1 Joe: it's a county you know Ronnie: how the fuck would i know that Ronnie: shut up Joe: do you wanna go to the beach Ronnie: i can drown you in the sink Joe: i didn't put you in the shower Joe: or your phone Ronnie: youd have been made up by how blue i went though Ronnie: well like a dead girl Joe: yeah? Joe: what's it feel like Ronnie: youll get your own go Ronnie: aint holding your hand forever like Joe: gutted Ronnie: you wont reckon so when you outgrow that baby habit Joe: i'd mind if you died Ronnie: give you something to cry about Ronnie: youd be fucking into it Joe: nah Joe: people who've got shit to mope on usually don't Joe: enjoy it too much don't I, can't be having it validated, takes the fun out Ronnie: most dont reckon a happy end would be cumming inside their ma Ronnie: youd enjoy having a reason to celebrate or trauma bond depending on her fucking take Joe: our mate freud would disagree Joe: she'd wear black for the rest of her life, if that's what you wanna hear Joe: but counting it as a question, 38 Ronnie: why the fuck would i wanna hear that Ronnie: be boss for her if she never shifted her bastard baby weight like Joe: 37 unless it's rhetorical Joe: i dunno what will make you feel better Ronnie: 38 wasn't a question in the first place you just counted it cause youre a cheating lil bitch Joe: what's the prize and why do you want it so much Ronnie: use your imagination fucks sake Ronnie: why do you always want your hand held Joe: waste of a question Joe: 'cos I'm such a mummy's boy duh Ronnie: if shed let you walk into the road i wouldnt be answering any of your pussy questions Ronnie: 💔 Joe: be a lot easier for all of us Joe: i'll throw myself in front of the tube, fuck up everyone's day Ronnie: ill pick myself up from kent then yeah Joe: oh so you've claimed selfish have you Ronnie: no shit nancy drew Ronnie: fitz is still crying that i 💉 you up Joe: bless Joe: you're not claiming what got me there Ronnie: cant i wasnt fucking there Joe: then don't feel guilty Ronnie: dont fucking flatter yourself Ronnie: could care less Joe: you who's trying Ronnie: taking away a question if youre gonna lie Joe: not 12, not a virgin, don't need you to hold my hand Joe: i wanted to and want to Ronnie: made up horse girl took it while i was away Joe: yeah Ronnie: get yourself checked for 🐴 aids or whatever Joe: could care less is right Ronnie: bullshit youll be gutted if you dick falls off before you put it in your ma Joe: talking about how much you do Ronnie: what are big sisters for Ronnie: ask the other one & hell stutter round how much i dont too Joe: it's not the same Ronnie: you aint special mckenna how many times Ronnie: let your ma feed you that bullshit Ronnie: & fuck knows what youve already caught from my blood Joe: bit late for warnings Ronnie: you had one first time we met like Ronnie: got eyes Joe: exactly Joe: i'm not gonna take the hint Ronnie: too subtle for you yeah Joe: if you think you could be any more blatant Joe: have fun trying Ronnie: i am Ronnie: kent dont know what hit it Joe: i bet Joe: where have you been but some strangers doss house then Joe: and that is a question Ronnie: fuck knows Ronnie: been a blur Joe: you know its about 1,500 square miles yeah Joe: remember one landmark Ronnie: you know youre only getting any fucking answers cause im coming down Joe: we don't have to play this game Joe: if you tell me where you are, you'll be picked up quicker and then you can get whatever you need Ronnie: [a location, lord only knows] Joe: alright Ronnie: for you getting high of your bullshit heroics Joe: if it makes you feel better that you need rescuing Ronnie: do i fuck Joe: then you just wanna see me Joe: either way Ronnie: shut up Joe: what's better for you? Ronnie: your money then your life Joe: very adam ant Joe: and can be arranged Joe: even though you don't have a horse or a car so I'm more of a highwayman than you Ronnie: i aint getting on your gilfriends horse i know where its been Joe: 😏 Joe: you can just admit she's more up for it than you Ronnie: admit youre fucking brain damaged Ronnie: let her be up for hand holding & playing house Joe: what are big sisters for Ronnie: beating the shit out of you Joe: look forward to it Ronnie: yeah youve missed me Joe: not afraid to say it Ronnie: write a song about it Ronnie: no names & you can play it for any bitch Joe: thanks for the hot tip Joe: kill some time on this drive Ronnie: shouldve stuck your judy in the boot Ronnie: be eye spy & red car the whole fucking way Joe: haven't put the plastic sheet down Joe: 💔 short notice Ronnie: so torch it Ronnie: i know youve always got a lighter on you Joe: what gave it away Ronnie: ive got eyes baby Joe: try not to wear it on my sleeve though Ronnie: done a shit job there Joe: why do you show yours off Ronnie: whats the point of only feeling it on the inside Joe: doing it is feeling it on the outside Ronnie: im what they fucking made me they can look at it Joe: that makes sense Joe: yeah Ronnie: what the hell are you scared of Joe: I dunno Joe: doesn't feel like fear Joe: blending in or disappearing has always been preferable Ronnie: & you have the balls to reckon im hiding here Joe: it ain't hiding if no fucker's looking Joe: easier for them and me, like Ronnie: if you gave a shit about easier you wouldnt have looked for me Joe: it was last-ditch attempt Joe: see if you were the same, like all of them too Joe: or not Joe: and you're not Ronnie: cause she ditched me Joe: maybe Ronnie: i didnt have the luxury of blending in Joe: it's not a luxury Ronnie: not when you have it Ronnie: care kids dont Joe: not at all Joe: it was a necessity to not blow my brains out and all i ended up was cracked and wishing i had Joe: you didn't have a family to not belong in Ronnie: & you did em such a massive fucking favour by not ending it all yeah Ronnie: i dont know you or fucking care & i can tell youre desperate to Joe: if she can't get over you, and she never stuck around to know you Joe: it's fuck all to do with the person and everything to do with the label Joe: son, brother Joe: you're meant to care even if life is better or basically the same without Ronnie: good fucking thing i like downers Ronnie: youd ruin an e Joe: cheers Ronnie: get over her for fucks sake Ronnie: keep saying youre not 12 Joe: didn't have that luxury Ronnie: loads more cunts willing to fuck you over Ronnie: live a little like Joe: yeah that'll make it worth it Joe: dead inspirational Ronnie: try your other sister Joe: i'm sure she'd have even more helpful advice Ronnie: take it then Ronnie: ill kill you before i give you a reason to live Joe: you know i ain't fucking looking for one Ronnie: yeah Joe: you need anything Ronnie: i didnt tell you were to get fuck all out of it Joe: apart from a lift Ronnie: what do you reckon Joe: kk Ronnie: 💘 Joe: still not healed Joe: also looks like jobn now Ronnie: anything to make you feel special baby Joe: what I reckon Ronnie: i didnt reckon ocd made you that delusional Ronnie: but when you change it to say jobs youll blend right in Joe: not quite as fitting as when johnny did it Ronnie: whats your girlfriends name Joe: i'll find one to make it fit Joe: josie or jody maybe Ronnie: 💔 no decent gear has a girls name Joe: girls like to party not nod out Joe: gutted Ronnie: ive got a lads name i get why youre confused Joe: you didn't wanna change it Ronnie: you offering up the cash Joe: bit of a waste Joe: just for the paperwork Ronnie: yeah it is Joe: you dunno what to pick Ronnie: swear words aint allowed Joe: don't matter if you're just doing it, telling new people it's your name like Ronnie: not an underage tranny Joe: right Ronnie: bit fucking late now Joe: youre attached Ronnie: i dont care Joe: yeah Ronnie: not what i hate her for Joe: it's a lesser sin Joe: and not the worst name Ronnie: if thats your way of trying to namedrop the others, dont Joe: why would I Ronnie: i dont know you cant really answer why youd do fuck all Joe: i don't need to ask if you want to know them Ronnie: like their names are gonna tell me who they are Joe: like you care Ronnie: like thats ever stopped you Joe: I can't un-find you Joe: but I'm not going to force you to meet any of them or know any more than what's been said Ronnie: no fixed address remember Ronnie: cant make it much fucking easier for you Joe: no, you can't Ronnie: stop crying then Ronnie: you can do better than a car crash Joe: do better Ronnie: yeah like washing up on the beach Ronnie: keep every cunt guessing how you died Joe: see how many beaches I can end up on Ronnie: dead romantic Joe: you can have fun with the hacksaw anyway Joe: least I could do Ronnie: you dont owe me Joe: i do Ronnie: for what Joe: for finding you when you didn't want finding Ronnie: you got the wrong bastard Ronnie: loads of others would be made up Joe: would they? Joe: regardless, I did it for me Ronnie: fuck off trying to take selfish off me Joe: 😏 Ronnie: been a few days since ive used a phone as a weapon Ronnie: keep on if you want it chucked at you Joe: you've promised better than that Ronnie: course you cant last through the foreplay Joe: alright, romantic Ronnie: you fucking wish soft lad Joe: you wish i wished Ronnie: i fucking dont Joe: alright Ronnie: keep the 🕯🌹 for your girlfriend like Ronnie: fuck all i can do with soft Joe: lighters and poppies suit me better as well Ronnie: next tattoos then Ronnie: dont know if itll look like a poppy but fuck it Ronnie: ill cut it out if you dont like it Joe: even if we avoid the sleeve, still a lot of skin to ruin Joe: are you just going over now Ronnie: waste of a question Ronnie: theres fuck all you can do Joe: what, my scribbles weren't a masterpiece compared to your boyfriends Ronnie: told you get what you pay for mckenna Ronnie: & that i dont get hard for mozart & the like Joe: weren't gonna score a symphony on you but alright Joe: no touching Ronnie: 💔 Ronnie: you & your baby habit dont score Joe: just pays Ronnie: dead comforting when i get robbed & left in a kent ditch Joe: it'll be the nicest ditch you've ever been in Ronnie: squatters rights Joe: my bed ain't comfy enough Ronnie: its the fact that its yours making me wanna hang myself with a sheet Ronnie: should say its too soft like you though shouldnt i Ronnie: gutted i fucked that up like Ronnie: we were playing so nice Joe: yeah, goldilocks suits Ronnie: unless your hair has fallen out Joe: I've not pulled it out either Joe: or soph, like Ronnie: not enough like a mane for her Joe: 💔 Joe: if only she'd have known me a few years ago Ronnie: get the family album out shell be made up Joe: shed a tear over our lack of horse Joe: sympathy fuck is better than none yeah Ronnie: the lack of me will really get her going Ronnie: had the pity eye fuck soon as i showed up Joe: she's an empath, babe, why she's so good at art Joe: lack of you might be an issue for me though Ronnie: another word for nosy cunt Joe: undoubtedly Joe: if i could sum up what was wrong with me for her I would Joe: but guess she likes the guessing Ronnie: if she was scouse shed just fucking come out with it Joe: gobshites, yeah Ronnie: what you get for having girlfriends who aint even wool Ronnie: self hatred making you go posh about it Joe: my last actual girlfriend was Ronnie: & youre claiming her Joe: not still writing songs about her Joe: well, never was Ronnie: shell still be 💔 Joe: nah Ronnie: you keep her waiting this long or am i that special Joe: you don't even know how far you've gone from london Joe: you're nearly 2 hours away Ronnie: if youre sticking to the speed limit Ronnie: stop being a pussy Joe: meet me and the car in the next ditch over Ronnie: more hand holding for fucks sake Joe: more than that if you want that lift Joe: have to drag the car out and hotwire it Joe: scrape me off the windshield Ronnie: i told you to stop getting me & what im into Joe: maybe i'm trying really hard Ronnie: far as hurting yourself goes thats the shittest way to have a go Joe: 💔 too weak Ronnie: keep your limp wrists on the steering wheel Ronnie: i wanna get out of here Joe: 😏 Joe: in a bit then Joe: got speeding to do and if you won't shut up Ronnie: youd have to try harder to make me Ronnie: that aint fucking likely Joe: only have to ask Joe: not nice or nothing Ronnie: i dont ask for handouts theyre given to me on account of all those mental problems ive got Joe: wouldn't it be nice to be the one doing the charity work for once Ronnie: if thats the only high youre offering me turn the fuck around Joe: not that daft Ronnie: your ma tell you that Joe: loads Ronnie: her judgements for shit not getting rid of us both with a hanger Joe: agreed Ronnie: dont put a kid in her shed only keep that one too Joe: still raising the last one Ronnie: like thatd stop her Ronnie: no fucking time wasted Joe: she did stop Joe: hence the 9 year gap oopsie baby Ronnie: reckon shed know what causes it by then Joe: Ireland got to her I guess Ronnie: dead keen for my invite now Joe: put it across as a valid form of contraception Joe: chlamydia Joe: they'd go for it Ronnie: worked for me Joe: postergirl Ronnie: 💔 there was no need to sew myself up Ronnie: be more fun than whichever fuck gave me it Joe: god willing Ronnie: your catholic one would be dead willing Joe: you're thinking of the wrong over-zealous christian country Ronnie: not on the right drugs for that kind of bullshit thinking Joe: 🍄 Joe: look out for cowshit whilst you're waiting Ronnie: that determined for me to see the sights yeah Joe: can't waste such an opportunity Ronnie: 🖕 watch me Joe: kent only comes calling so many times, like Joe: your choice Ronnie: shell be taking you every time uni gives you time off Joe: i'm good for it Ronnie: its well cute that you reckon youve got any say Ronnie: possessive type i heard Joe: 😏 Ronnie: she changed the 🔒 on your room yet Joe: keep you in or out? Ronnie: reckon it ended at the pity eye fuck for me & her Joe: 💔 Ronnie: yeah Joe: i'll talk her 'round for you Ronnie: fuck off Ronnie: i dont need you to translate for me Ronnie: we got the money your carer role is over Joe: it's all in the eyes, I heard you Joe: not patronizing on your deep relationship Ronnie: shut up Joe: 🤐 Ronnie: & drive faster Joe: 👌 Ronnie: fucking hell i can see why shes fucking obsessed with you Joe: if you want chat Joe: definitely in the wrong place Joe: she don't need to know my ears aren't listening to hers Ronnie: she already knows you do what youre told without talking back Ronnie: like a battered wife Joe: anything for an easy 💀 Ronnie: youre coming to the right place for that Ronnie: but i wont tell her Joe: it's not a reportable crime Ronnie: im not a snitch & i can wear shades if she tries to eye fuck her way to finding fuck all out Joe: dunno if that's enough of a disguise but I don't care Joe: a habit, she could say something about that Joe: but the rest Ronnie: what rest Ronnie: you only want a habit Joe: speak for yourself Ronnie: im echoing you Ronnie: you fucking said it Joe: you know it's not true though Ronnie: youre full of shit yeah Joe: yeah Joe: you too if you wanna pretend about it Ronnie: i dont play pretend im not a fucking kid Joe: good Joe: then you know what's happening here Ronnie: [a picture or video of whatever is happening where she is, lord knows] Joe: you don't have to reciprocate, dickhead Joe: no need to try and make me crash Ronnie: thought youd grown a set of balls & had em drop while ive been here Ronnie: what it sounded like Joe: how olds the other one Joe: he looks younger than me Ronnie: didnt do a survey Joe: I mean your mate, I don't know his name Joe: not Charlie Ronnie: 17 Joe: he must've been a baby when you met, like Ronnie: whats your point Joe: ain't got one Joe: just wondering Ronnie: youre not his type Joe: he's not mine Ronnie: stop wondering then Joe: why? Ronnie: hes fuck all to do with you Ronnie: your mam didnt push him out Joe: not trying to get to know him over you Ronnie: then why do you care Joe: same age as my brother Joe: and the girl my parents took in, one of Joe: that's it Ronnie: here we fucking go Ronnie: you said you werent gonna do that Joe: you kept asking Ronnie: cause i dont want you fucking nonce my brother Ronnie: give a fuck about yours Joe: 'cos you think I would, alright Joe: don't be stupid Ronnie: i dont know what youd do Ronnie: dont fucking know you Joe: well I'm straight and entirely uninterested Ronnie: youre also full of shit Joe: why do you give a fuck Joe: I'm only a year older, if I wanted to, I would Ronnie: why do i give a fuck that you lied to me or about him Ronnie: go ed & wonder about it Joe: it weren't a lie Joe: shit changes Ronnie: i dont wanna hear about them that aint gonna change Joe: fine Ronnie: fuck you Joe: also fine Joe: sorry, alright Joe: it means fuck all Ronnie: its not fine Ronnie: & it means im gonna be running comparisons in my head Joe: just forget about it Joe: of course they're all around my age ish, it don't mean you know any more about them Ronnie: fucks sake Joe: it don't matter Ronnie: cause you get to tell me what matters too yeah Joe: come on Ronnie: you dont or what to fucking do either Joe: then what Joe: I said it, I said sorry Joe: you do what you must Ronnie: go home & give horse girl your sorry Joe: fuck that Joe: you still need to get back to London and I'm nearly there Ronnie: i got here i can leave here Joe: bullshit Ronnie: you wish Joe: well I'm still coming Ronnie: i dont care Ronnie: youve been going on about how big it is Ronnie: stay the fuck away from me Joe: Jesus fucking christ don't be such a pussy Ronnie: you fucking wish Joe: whatever Joe: this is going nowhere right now Joe: you know where to find me when you wanna actually do something about it Ronnie: your half arsed self destruction is going nowhere Ronnie: do something about that your fucking self instead of trying to bait me Joe: I'm still on my way Ronnie: kents full of real pussys you can save Ronnie: youll 💘 it Joe: I don't give a fuck, Ronnie Ronnie: why are you crying Ronnie: you fucked me over Joe: because this is a waste of time Ronnie: youre a junkie now get used to it Joe: at least I've got that Ronnie: youre welcome baby Joe: good luck finding decent shit in kent Ronnie: not going with you dont mean im staying here Joe: but I've got mine already Ronnie: you can have selfish Joe: I told you I was bringing more for you Joe: if you can get over it you can have your share Ronnie: ill take it over it not Ronnie: *or Ronnie: you cant fucking stop me Joe: say you want me to come then Joe: i know where you are, not the other way 'round Ronnie: youre the liar mckenna Ronnie: i dont want you to be anywhere Joe: then why should I come and share Joe: that's a question Ronnie: you love heroics Joe: [show up at this point] Ronnie: [what a fun little reunion that'll be] Joe: [so, we know the vibes but also do we wanna pitch it out] Ronnie: [we totally can for our own amusement/in case a moment or something happens again] Joe: [so obviously he gets there and she's gonna be fuming hens, yeah?] Ronnie: [she gonna fight him lol enjoy that random peeps] Ronnie: [but that works cos like if someone takes that seriously instead of realising we just flirting with each other then they gotta go] Joe: [go away for some alone time to take your drugs somewhere, we voting beach] Ronnie: [yeah because realistically nobody will be there at this o clock unless they are likewise up for shady shit so it works for them as well as being romantic for us because has she been to the beach before probably not] Joe: [so unintentionallly wholesome] Ronnie: [try not to freak out immediately about that this time lads] Joe: [or OD again] Ronnie: [or freeze to death because when are you ever dressed for the weather gal] Joe: [have to stay close purely for warmth whoops] Ronnie: [can't pretend you're angry enough to be at the other end of the beach its not that deep] Joe: [shame it'll be too late to get fish n chips or something beach related but you can skim stones] Ronnie: [I wonder if there's anywhere you could break into because always a mood] Joe: [on a lot of seafronts they have those shelter moments that are boarded up you know what I mean] Ronnie: [yeah that was what I had in mind] Joe: [was that tracy beaker when jess and that girl were snuggled in there and tracy thought it was a lad lollol] Ronnie: [I loved that bit] Joe: [soz i've forgotten your name but that whole character and vibe was a mood, buzzing for the show/movie whatever they're doing] Ronnie: [a child Tess mood 100%] Joe: [fosho fosho, you're gonna have to sleep on this beach/his car 'cos not letting you drive in that state for that long yet tah] Ronnie: [we all know you're gonna be snuggling and I'm here for it, maybe you can get fish and chips in the am/when you wake up] Joe: [for breakfast lol, get all the sugary snacks as well like candy floss doughnuts, casual binge here like neither of you clearly eats much day to day] Ronnie: [healthwise you've both got bigger problems so we can allow it] Joe: [sugar high, living for unintentional wholesomeness lol] Ronnie: [love the childlike vibe always] Joe: [when I go the hunstanton with the gals, which is like, scummy seaside vibes you know, there's always rides there, but also there was like a tattoo hut where you could get actual tattoos for like a fiver and it looks so dubious lol] Ronnie: [omg that is amazing and we must] Joe: [you could get piercings too which might have him do just to mess with it] Ronnie: [we know she already has so likewise not gonna resist getting another, the more extra the better though placement wise cos we do love to shock joseph with our endeavours] Ronnie: [whack a tit out casually or whatever like] Joe: [lmao, dreading these infections hens] Ronnie: [I went to margate and all I got was this lousy tat and a persistent infection, put that on a t-shirt] Joe: [shame they only do flashes gals] Ronnie: [get some DIYing happening lads, we know that kind of thing is flirting for you] Joe: [the tension at this point like you've actually shown loads of restraint even though the opposite seems true lol] Ronnie: [lowkey not what anyone would expect of you which is why I like it] Joe: [mhmm not actually all doom and gloom even if we say and pretend it or what would be the point] Ronnie: [they'd actually be having such a lovely time and when was the last time either of them did, I'm fine about it yep] Joe: [truly, it ain't just about the drugs or any of the 'fucked up ness' from the off and that's the tea no one else be seeing] Ronnie: [mhmm and it wouldn't last how it does if it was] Joe: [connection huns] Ronnie: [the TENSION on this car journey back like don't crash tbh] Joe: [at least you can play really loud music and pretend that's distraction enough] Ronnie: [and play with your new injuries] Ronnie: [lowkey bonding even more about your love of music though we see you] Joe: [mhmm, when it's not all classical obvs 'cos you aren't Rosaline] Ronnie: [probably drop her at Charlie's hun cos otherwise something is gonna happen] Joe: [hope you brought him some rock but i know you did not lol, go make friends again, you go think 'bout your life joseph] Ronnie: [probably stole him a postcard that you've written some bants on to slide under his door] Joe: [that's cute, hilarious over-sexual postcard as they always are] Ronnie: [yeah exactly and then he knows you're back so you can talk or whatever you're gonna do to clear the air] Joe: [that's this era in general we know the vibe]

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turtle-steverogers · 5 years

Text

race is a flat earther and al wants to die

when i planned this fic this morning it was a lot more stupid and shit

but then this happened

so im sorry ig

warnings: none really. but angst kinda ig sorta

ship: ehhhhhh ralbert....

word count: 1030 how satisfying

His hand was wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, eyes trained on the road ahead of him, only flicking away every so often to check the rearview mirror. It was nighttime, meaning it was easy to lose oneself in the daunting shadows of the streets, threatening to pull you under with its strength.

Silence suffocated the atmosphere as it had often done in the past few months. Lips stuck together, struggling to make conversation though it had once been easy. Two hearts that had once been adjoined drifting apart by the second. Was it a blessing or a curse? A relief or a burden? The answers were unclear, but they had a mutual understanding of the shared feeling. Whatever they had was drawing to a close. It was weirdly sickening. Disheartening. Feeling the grasp of something so strong slipping between their fingertips as their hands that once gripped the other’s so tight barely brushed at the edges. It was like holding water in open hands.

They drove in circles around their town, their stomachs full from dinner. It was Valentine’s day and almost out of sheer obligation, and partly from literal desire, they’d decided upon a date night. It had been a while since they had done something together, anyway.

The night was going smoothly. No petty arguments. No fuck-ups or frayed ends fraying further. It was almost like old times. Almost.

They passed a road sign with a large, cheesy photo of the Earth on it, along with some stupid advertisement for water, and Race smiled sadly, brain wandering as a new memory invaded his mind.

“So, the Earth is flat.”

Albert groaned, letting his book drop to his lap as he scrubbed a hand over his face.

“You’re literally an astrophysics major,” Albert sighed, keeping his palms pressed over his eyes as he fought the impending headache that threatened his skull, “don’t come at me with this shit.”

“Oh come oooonnnn,” Race whined, “Think about it! People all around the globe support this theory!”

Albert lifted his head, a bemused look etched on his face. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before scrunching up his eyes and shaking his head.

Race bit back the urge to laugh, Albert’s reaction already better than he had imagined.

“Race, baby,” He sat up, guiding Race to sit down next to him and leaning forward to rub his temples, “I want you to say that last sentence again, but say it slowly. People all around the globe support it?”

Race couldn’t help the spurt of giggles that passed his lips, his face sprouting into a giddy grin, “Sorry, babe, sorry,” he managed between laughs, noticing that Albert was watching him with an exasperatedly amused expression, “I just wanted to see your reaction.”

Albert studied him for a moment longer, then scoffed and picked his book back up, “You give me pain, love.”

Race situated himself so that he was tucked into Albert’s side and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “Yeah, but you love me, so…”

Albert’s gaze didn’t shift from his book, but his smile turned into something a little more genuine, “Yeah, I guess I do.”

The boys in the memory seemed to differ immensely from the boys who sat in the front seat of Race’s old RAV4 now. They had been more carefree. More open with each other. Less scared to say something wrong. But at the same time, more scared. Less resilient to when his right to speak up was thwarted. He had grown to be more guarded with himself. To hold his ground better, despite how detrimental standing up for himself seemed to be.

They passed a train station and another memory resurfaced, the intimacy of that moment making it almost more painful.

Albert’s lips were soft against his, hands gripping his biceps as they kissed slowly. It was well past midnight. Long since the time when other pedestrians swarmed the area, looking to go home after a long day of work.

They were alone, their solitude invigorating.

Albert lifted his hand, lacing his fingers into the back of Race’s hair and deepening their kiss. They were close, warm, happy. In love.

He wasn’t sure how long they had been there, listening to music and talking before losing themselves in each other, but it was amazing. Every stupid, cheesy love movie made sense in that moment. It was cliche, but real and raw and Race couldn’t be happier.

Albert pulled away and they broke apart completely, chests heaving and eyes glinting.

Albert traced his fingers lovingly along Race’s jaw, placing another, softer kiss on his lips. Race allowed his eyes to flutter shut again.

“My god, I’m in love with you,” Albert murmured, voice barely audible.

Race leaned his forehead against Albert’s, “I’m in love with you, too.”

Race swallowed, emotion rising in his throat. He missed it. He missed the long kisses and the strong embraces. He missed them.

The urge to reach out and take hold of Albert’s hand soon became too much to bear and he shifted his arm over the console. He could see Albert’s look of surprise in his peripheral when he intertwined their fingers, but he stayed adamant and a moment later, he felt Albert squeeze back, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. Just like old times.

So why didn’t it feel like it?

He rounded the turn into Albert’s neighborhood, driving on mental autopilot to the house he’d driven to so many times. He pulled up gradually, putting the car in park almost reluctantly. Almost.

They sat in silence for a moment.

“Tonight was fun,” Race said, breaking the quiet.

Albert looked at him, smiling. It didn’t look right.

“Yeah, it was really nice.”

His remark was genuine, but scripted.

“I love you,” Race said, leaning forward to peck Albert on the lips, “Happy Valentine’s day.”

Albert reciprocated, but the warm feeling that once accompanied the motion was nonexistent, a weird pang of sadness taking its place.

“I love you, too,” Albert said, opening the car door, “Drive home safe. Happy Valentine’s day.”

Race waved, watching as he walked to his front door. They knew where they stood, but god did it hurt.

*hi wait this is me ten minutes after posting i edited it cuz i forgot to italicize memories lmao*

so happy valentine’s day lol

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

TAG LIST: @bencookisagod @we-dont-sell-papes @suddenly-im-respecsable

@aw-jus-let-em-try @well-the-kids-do-too @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @felix-loves-albert-and-ralbert @axolotlwhizzy

@andthewoildwillknow @the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog @sunshine-e-cigarettes @have-we-got-news-for-you @musical-shitposts @thebroadwayaesthetic

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#newsies #newsies fic #albert dasilva #ralbert #racetrack higgins #chaotic boys #but sad chaotic boys #hmm

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the-everlasting-dream · 5 years

Text

In My Head - Rafael x MC

Summary: A commentary of MC Jaya’s thoughts during the date with Rafael last chapter.

A/N: My brain - and by extension Jaya’s - is weird. Sorry. You have been warned. This is kinda bad but idc

Tags: @chantelle-x0x , @choicessa, @mariamulroney , @drakewalkerwhipped , @thewolvesss , @mfackenthal , @srawesleyghuewrites , @topsyturvy-dream , @enmchoices , @gardeningourmet @debramcg1106 , @alesana45 , @meladoridarcy, @blackcatkita , @tmarie82 , @annekebbphotography , @lizk77 , @jayjay879 , @tornbetween2loves , @akrenich , @theroyalweisme , @likethetailofacomet , @sleepwalkingelite , @littleblossom-18 , @ooo-barff-ooo , @drakewalker04 , @mkatschoicesblog ,

Rafael Aveiro: @kennaloverofdragons , @ifyouseekheart , @brightpinkpeppercorn

Jaya FC: Pooja Hegde

Shower? Done. Deep condition? Done. Moisturise? Done. Shave? Goddamn Jaya its the first date, nothing’s gonna happen. Rafael Aveiro is not that kind of guy… And I am not that kind of girl..

Standards. Yep totally got those.

Okay okay, time for the most important part of date prep. Picking the outfit.

What did he say again? Dress comfy.. Comfy, Mr Aveiro, means my panda onesie and Ugg boots. I hardly think thats first date material right there. Unless it was a movie date, and we got to build the PERFECT outfit.

Think casual but cute. Classy but not like we’re trying too hard. Yep okay lets go. Ooo this dress is cute and it could pair it with those cream wedges... Where are they - NOOO. That stupid chocolate stain from my going away party is STILL there?

So scrapping that idea. What about that leather skirt… Found it. Okay nope. I look like a hoe in that. We’re going for wholesome not HOEsome here.

What do I feel casual in? Pencil skirt? Dress? Jeans? Ugh Raf could you be anymore ambiguous in your description? Don’t you know that girls require a detailed agenda of what we will be doing on the date so we can plan our outfit accordingly??

Oh my god why do I not have anything nice to wear??

Ughhhhh I just wanna throw out my whole wardrobe and start again.. I wish Asos had instant delivery like you payed the the thing and it would just magically show up in your closet. I could put together a killer outfit in minutes..

Too plain… too boring… I’m pretty sure that should be in my laundry pile… That’s my lab coat..

Oh that’s a cute skirt… I’m pretty sure I wore that to the concert with Bryce… I don’t wanna outfit repeat though…

Does this match..

Nope.

WHY CAN'T I FIND ANYTHING TO WEAR??

Everything I have makes me look too short, too fat or like I’m trying too hard. I just wanted jeans and a nice top but evidently that’s too much to ask..

What would Lois Lane wear? Wait how cold is it going to be tonight?

…Okay no skirts then. Alright he said dinner so that means no white or light colours coz we don’t know where we’re going so lets just go with jeans and maybe I could go with that burgundy off shoulder top I got last week? Huh.. that actually doesn’t look too bad.

Damn I actually look kinda good… Lets hope he thinks so too.

Alright now to give this mane a quick blow dry. Ugh why do I have my hair so long again? I literally do nothing with it but chuck it up in a pony tail… I should chop it off, do a new year, new me thing for spring or something..

Okay done.

Now make up. Think classy and cute. Lets put on some music…. Hmmm.. Bollywood Jams… What haven’t I listened to in a while.. Got it.

Panghat pe aake saiyyan marode baiyaan And everybody blames it on Radha Chhedde hai humka daiyaan, bairi Kanhaiya And everybody blames it on Radha

*Twenty minutes of singing and dancing later*

Okay Jaya focus. Focus like your life depends on it.

Time for *deep breath* Eyeliner..

Don’t… make… a…move… Okay that actually looks good. Time for the other one. Don’t… make… a…move… Fuck they don’t match… I’ll just make the other one thicker… Not that thick! Maybe I can use some concealer and make fix… Nope now that one’s too short.. Maybe… okay that looks worse…

Fuck eye makeup I’m just gonna skip it

Are hoops too much for a first date? Do I subscribe to that ‘the bigger the hoop, the bigger the hoe’ thing…? Maybe…

Nows not the time for experimenting Jaya. Focus. Now lipstick.. I cooooould go with red.. Who am I? Priyanka Chopra? Oh wait even Priyanka doesn’t wear red… Ok PC don’t let me down, I’m going with nude..

Shit is that the bell?! Okay okay, wallet, phone, shoes, I haven’t picked shoes yet! Ugh okay lets hope he doesn’t notice the chocolate stain.

Coming, coming. Oh wow he looks hot. I mean how does he make just a green jacket and t-shirt look good. Remember to speak Jaya. Say hi. Keep it cool. Goddamn Superman, you’ve got one adorable smile. Huh this old thing? Its just something I threw on… in pure desperation and defeat.

Omg guys pls don’t make a huge deal of this… I am so getting a roasting when this is over.

Please let’s go. Hang on where are we going? This is true. He can’t show me the city from indoors. Guess we’re doing an outdoor thing then...Apparently its a surprise. I can do this whole spontaneous thing.. Yep easy peasy.. so not still wondering if I’ve over dressed but if his outfit is anything to go off I think I should be fine?

Umm do you know where we’re going? Coz i have no idea. And I hope you’re not taking me some place to get mugged. DONT say that out loud Jaya. Focus on the conversation.. He’s asking you if you like Boston..

God he’s gorgeous. And humble too. So different from any other guy I’ve dated. From any other guy I’ve met actually… They don’t make em like they made you Rafael Aveiro.

He claims he’s not Superman but this is totally a Clark Kent outfit.. just missing some glasses. I bet he’d look hot in glasses. Does he wear glasses? I need to know immediately. Nope he doesn’t. 20-20 vision… Just like Superman.

WOAH

I would have totally missed this place if I hadn’t known it was here… or hadn’t had my own personal Superman showing me around. Heh.

Okay enough superman jokes.

I don’t even know where to look, the food, the smells, the sounds, the people, its kinda like the night markets back home. And oh my god what is that smell? Best street food in Boston… Yep I don’t doubt that for a second...

….Is it too cliche if I say Indian food? Coz I have been dying for some Aloo gobi since I came to Boston and — THEY HAVE CHANA MASALA!?!? IM TAKING IT ALL SORRY NOT SORRY Subhanu you’ll be out of business by the time Jaya Da Silva is done with you.

Wait he knows everyone here? And they know him? Did he like… save everyone in this city or something?

Okay wow this is getting a bit crowded, is it too cliche if I grab his hand? Almost… there… Oh were at our seats… Bummer.

Did he just… pull out the chair for me? Homeboy is earning some major points over here… I am impressed.

Damn he really does know everyone. If that wasn’t so impressed, I’ve be suspicious. Oh wait he’s grown up with these people. That explains it.

Community man.. Family man. Good match.. God I sound like the aunties back in Chennai.

He’s way too adorable to be single. A sweet guy, who cares about the community and is genuinely kind and smart? Guys like him do NOT pop out of no where… What are the chances he’s got some crazy dark secret..

Goddamn Jaya calm down with the analysing. Just relax.

Crap he just asked me about my community? What part should I tell him? The crazy expectations, the insane reputations to uphold or the life ruining rumours? Lie Jaya. You gotta lie. You can’t dump the truth on him this early on. He’s a nice guy but even he will turn tail and run if you tell him about your m-

Oh our foods here. OMG I apologise in advance but this has got to be one of the best chana masala’s I’ve ever seen. Patti would feel threatened. Let’s see how it tastes. SO FLIPPING GOOD. OH MAH GAAAHH

Raf I hope you don’t mind if I pig out coz I’ve been dying for Patti’s food and this is the closest I’m probably gonna get and this is pretty damn close.

Is he looking at me enough? Omg is he looking at me too much? Don’t have something on my face? Okay lets subtly move your hand up and.. okay that was subtle enough right? Holy crap I had gravy on my mouth and he didn’t say anything… Maybe it wasn’t noticeable?

Do I prefer a community or my own space? Hmmm… How do I answer this tactfully…

Oh this is nice. We’re picking up a rhythm here. Just casual chatting… He is actually really funny…

Okay Rafael Aveiro I see you. You’ve got that hidden sass in you that I sure as hell am going to bring out…

Oh damn I stand corrected, we are already at the roasting phase — more like a slight toasting really but he’s bring up The Grand Bathrobe Incident of two weeks ago. Oh great, I am never going to live that down. But hey if it landed me here I have no regrets...

Wow he’s actually got a bit of green in his eyes. I never noticed that. Why have I never noticed that? Probably because I’ve never been this close to see it…?

Oh wait I need a mint. All this chicken tikka and garlic I am gonna to do a major refresh if we’re going to do any kissing… or whatever.

Wait he just gave me a look. What does that mean? Are we going to… no it can’t be. Omg I did NOT wear my cute underwear.. what if we have sex? Nope Jaya nope. No sex on the first date. No matter how cute the green in Superman’s eyes are.

Hmm guess not… Anyways

*Later*

No way he likes the same flavour of Skittles as me! He’s already planning a movie night for us? Wait is that a hint at another date? Or was it just a general thing?

Wait where is everyone else? Are we the last ones here? Hang on a second how did he pay without me noticing?? Nope I can’t let him pay, I- He’s not hearing any of it. Okay fine I won’t argue but next time I’m paying.

Did he just… ask to walk me home? Can this man get any more precious??? Of course honey you can. Gosh I’m melting right now, this is so adorable…

Oh my god, our fingers brushed. They brushed again.. And again… Please take my hand, please take my hand. I really wanna hold yours but I’m too socially awkward to do that.. Thank god he got the hint. This is nice… real nice…

Okay that walk was way too short for anything to happen. We’e stopped outside my porch. I am SO happy I ran into you Raf. you made my shitty day so much better. Oh god this is like one of those movies where they stand outside the door for ages not wanting to say anything… I really wanna kiss him. Goddamn he’s dreamy as hell…

How do I tell him I want him to kiss the life out of me without… you know.. telling him I want him to kiss the life out of me?

He’s gonna say goodnight? Wait THATS it? Just a goodnight and go? Wait I think he got the hint, he’s taking a step closer. Wow he’s tall, I’ve always liked them tall dark an handsome.. His eyes… wow..

Oh my god is this really happening? Does he want to kiss me? Of course he wants to kiss you, you dolt, he’s leaning in closer. Can’t you see the look in his eyes? Why is he waiting… Crap he’s waiting for me.. What if I’ve misjudged this whole — Oh fuck it here goes.

Mmmm

Woah..

Abshhgkl… can’t… articulate… kiss... too good…

Breathe Jaya breathe. All tingly now. His arms are so strong… He can leave them around me… He doesn’t have to let go just yet… God he has the most amazing shy smile.. I could kiss him again… and again… and never stop… Do we have to stop?

Oh yep he wants to stop. Thats…not unexpected… He wants to take it slow remember? Its probably a good thing. I don’t know what I’d do if I managed to sneak him upstairs — out of sight to all my roommates of course — get him pinned up against the wall, inch my fingers up that nice but totally unnecessary shirt of his — I bet he’s got amazing abs too — and just —

Jaya! Stop it. Stop perving on the nice boy! This is your first date, he already wants to take it slow, lets not ruin this by not being able to keep it in your pants. Now pull yourself together and say goodnight.

This is like a freaking rom com. Am I in Love Actually right now? He’s actually waiting for me to get in the house before leaving. Chivalry is obviously not dead everyone. Rafael Aveiro alone is keeping it alive.

Oh fuck my keys, where are they where are they, shit hurry up he’s waiting for you to get in, don’t ruin the moment for me stupid k— Ah finally.

He looks too adorable to leave out on the front porch. Smile and say goodnight Jaya like a grown ass adult. I really want run over and kiss him. And from the way he’s looking at me, I think he wants to too?

Nope self control Jaya. This is what we practice in this household. Close the door and go upstair— Oh my god he’s whistling as he walks away. Ahhh does that mean he had a good time? Because I sure as hell did. I hope he asks me out again. Or I could ask him out this time.

Either way I hope we can see a lot more of each other soon because you are something else Superman. Something else indeed.

#rafael aveiro #rafael x mc #open heart #choices open heart #jaya da silva #choices #playchoices #choices fandom #choices fanfiction #elle's a weirdo #sorry this is what happens in my brain #but like the censored version #a lot of weird stuff didn't make the cut #you'll be happy i cut it

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