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deerlottie · 7 days

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🐰 — you're the one (that im dreamin' of)

summary: ever since that stupid kiss with jackie, things have gotten worse. you just wish she liked you back. warnings: fluff with angst, childhood best friends to lovers, pining, dysphoria mentions/internalized transphobia, timeskips. not proofread a/n: 3k WORDS HOLY FUCK????? this is my first fic that ive done that has gotten to be this long im amazed wtf! this is definitively a favorite of mine now, and i hope you all enjoy it <3

you're just sitting next to each other on the couch watching a movie, you don't know why your heart is beating so fast.

maybe it's because her shoulder is touching yours, and every time she finds a joke funny, she leans into you while laughing, causing you to sweat and nervously laugh along with her.

god, you need to get over your little crush on jackie. well, it's not little at all, actually - you know you're in love with her, which is 10x worse. but the worst part is the voice in the back of your head telling you that she'd never be with someone like you. someone trans.

you know it's not true - jackie was very supportive when you came out to her in middle school. she was the only one defending you from shitty kids and let you stay at her house for a while when your parents found all your binding stuff and threw you out. of course, you had to go back eventually but they made you throw out anything related to that 'sinful' shit.

jackie would sneak you some of shauna's flannels when you'd reach the bus stop so you could be yourself outside of home, and you always chalked that fluttery feeling in your stomach when she called you handsome down to gender euphoria. which is partly true, but you secretly wished she would've called you her boyfriend instead.

but even so, you'd have to swallow the bile that rose to your throat when senior year of high school started, and you'd see her talking to jeff - to a real man. you know that there wasn't anything going on between them, but your stomach would churn when she would mention how cute he looked that day. it made you angry - at her, at jeff, at your parents, at yourself.

so angry, that you would start ignoring her. being too close to her got to your head and it was getting hard to ignore your growing feelings for her. but this is jackie we're talking about, and she cornered you until you spat out some pathetic excuse that you were just busy with homework to ever go see her. she didn't buy it for a second, but she saw how uncomfortable you were and didn't want to press you about it. you somehow made it through the rest of the school year with only seeing her a couple times while hanging out with mutual friends.

now, it's your freshman year at rutgers which jackie begged you to apply at so you could be college buddies, and to be honest, it wasn't your first choice, but you applied anyways. and it was the only one you got accepted to, so you had no choice in the matter. coincidentally, you and jackie had the same history class, so it was only natural that she had asked you to come over to her house to reconnect.

which was a bad idea.

"have you ever kissed someone?" jackie speaks suddenly, turning to you while twirling her hair around a finger.

you splutter for a second, gulping hard. "u-uh, no, i haven't. have you?"

please say no, please say no.

"me neither." she smiles, and if you hadn't been too embarrassed to make eye contact, you would have seen the way she glanced at your lips. you hum at her response and nod before turning your attention back to the movie.

a beat passes.

"wait, we should totally practice on each other!" she says it as if it were a huge revelation. she's looking at you with sparkles in her eyes and an innocent grin, reaching for the remote to pause the movie.

"what?" you squeak out, scooting up and sitting straighter on the couch, swallowing hard as you look at her. your hand shakes as you bring it up to scratch at the back of your head. "are you serious?"

"of course," she rolls her eyes. jackie leans in closer to you and grabs your hands, and if she heard the nervous breath of air you let out, she chose to ignore it. "i mean, it wouldn't even be awkward, right? we've known each other since we were kids. and besides, it's just a little practice, no harm done."

oh, if you only knew.

you think about it - really, think about it. you don't wanna kiss her just because you like her. you know that would just cause more problems with your feelings for her. but at the same time, you've barely gotten to know anyone while at this college and the only girl you talk to here is your classmate who sits beside you in art, and she only asked for a pencil one time. so, who knows when the next time you'd be given this opportunity to kiss another girl, let alone jackie taylor.

of course, there would be no other option you'd pick besides kissing her, even if that means destroying your friendship with her forever. for you, at least. she'd go on with her life and you'd be stuck dealing with all the emotions and be lucky if you don't suddenly explode with them.

you nod slowly, choosing to ignore the sinking feeling in your gut. your lips tremble as you speak, and a cold sweat consumes your body. "s-sure. it's just practice." you try to convince yourself of it, but it doesn't seem to work that well.

jackie giggles and claps her hands together, wiggling her toes as she gets in position next to you, and you nearly back out of it as you feel her breath hit your lips. she places her hand on your shoulder for a second, picking at the fabric of your shirt before trailing her hand to your neck and pulling you in for a soft kiss.

your brain immediately shuts off and you can hear the wires crack with electricity as her plump lips move against yours. you have no choice but to let her take control of the kiss, jackie giving you experimental pecks before getting brave enough to stick her tongue in your mouth.

you moan at the feeling, eyes widening with embarrassment as you pull away, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. you can't look her in the eye as you stutter out apologies, but you wish you could because the only thing you can focus on is how swollen her lips are.

"how was it? was i good?" she asks hopefully, leaning in and anticipating your response.

"mhm." is all you can say.

she raises her fists in a celebratory manner, proud of her newly found skill. she buzzes with excitement, looking lost in thought as she replays the moment in her head. she grabs the remote and turns to you again, seemingly mistaking your frozen state for some sort of expectation on her part.

"you were good too." she reaches out and touches your arm, eyebrows furrowing at how suddenly you get up.

"sorry-i just," you wipe at your nose and clear your throat, looking anywhere but her. "i forgot i have an early class tomorrow, and i don't wanna stay up late."

"oh, okay." she nods, trying not to sound disappointed. she watches you walk away and calls out your name, remembering something. "wait! you should come to my party that i'm hosting in a few weeks."

"what party?"

"it's just a small party with friends and their friends, probably. it's to kick off our first semester of college." she smiles and shrugs, bouncing on her tippy toes. "i really want you to be there with me."

"and shauna!" she adds quickly. "her semester at brown doesn't start for a couple more weeks so she's coming over to visit. she's been asking about you too, i don't know why she's suddenly so interested in you." she crosses her arms, looking annoyed.

"i'll try to show up, but don't expect anything." you tell her, giving her a small smile. you feel your heart skip a beat at her excited squeal and hug, awkwardly melting into it.

you walk out the door and can feel your emotions building up, kicking a stray rock on jackie's sidewalk before you let out a heavy sigh and wipe your face.

"fuck!"

the second you get to the party, you make a beeline straight for the drinks.

jackie's front door was unlocked when you arrived and for now, she was nowhere to be found. you're not entirely sure why you decided to show up in the first place - you've been a mess since that kiss you had with her all those weeks ago. it's all you can think about and replay in your mind, and some of your grades have started to slip. the thought of seeing her here after successfully avoiding her, which was surprisingly easy with a clever lie about being busy with classes, made you want to vomit.

you gulp down your 4th shot, grimacing at the burn in your throat. you pull out your phone and check the time - 9:49 p.m. you could stay another hour or so, take advantage of all the free drinks, maybe say a quick "hi" to jackie and shauna and then leave.

"should you really be drinking that much?" you hear a raspy voice tease from behind you.

speak of the devil.

you turn around and are face to face with shauna shipman, one of your best friends from elementary school. the last time you had spoken to her was a couple of days before high school graduation, and it was about jackie, because of course it would be. she had urged you to grow some balls and ask her out before any other person with brains would. you chickened out, that same voice in the back of your head saying she would've rejected you. of course, you've kept up with her through texts, but you haven't really had the time or heart to respond to all her questions about how it's going with jackie.

you roll your eyes and bashfully smile at the sight of her, clad in her iconic plaid shirt, which you're pretty sure is the exact one jackie gave you that one time. you shake your head to rid the thought of her, bringing shauna in for a hug. you inhale the scent of her cologne, sighing against her shoulder as your mind spins.

"i've missed you, shipman." you pull away from her and grab another shot, ignoring how she scoffs and rolls her eyes. despite this, she reaches out and grabs herself one, clinking it against your glass before you both swallow it down.

"you look good." she compliments, punching your arm and scanning your body over. "i heard that you've been on T for a while now, congrats. i like the little baby beard thing you've got going on." you swat her hand away from your face as she tries to touch it, chuckling at her antics.

"oh, thanks." you say with fake earnest, scratching at your stubble. "i've only been letting it grow out for 6 months now, no big deal."

"i'm sure jackie loves it, she's always had a thing for beards." shauna replies, smirking at you.

your smile drops a bit at the mention of jackie and you clear your throat awkwardly, looking away. shauna looks at you quizzically, wondering what she said wrong. you shake your head, pouring yourself another shot before sighing.

"it's a long story." you slur, the alcohol finally catching up to you. she grabs you by the hands and leads you through the crowd of people and into jackie's backyard, pulling a chair out and sitting you down.

"well, spit it out."

you end up spilling your guts to shauna about your feelings and what happened with jackie, surprising yourself for being able hold tears back as you pour your heart out. she rubs your back comfortingly as she listens to you talk about everything, her heart hurting as you mention your internalized transphobia.

she opens her mouth to speak but another voice calls out for you.

"there you are!" jackie yells, stopping in her tracks when she sees how close shauna is to you. her annoyance turns into concern when she notices how drunk you are. "i've been looking for you everywhere."

you giggle at her, looking up with a dopey smile and rush to your feet. "jackieeeee, hi."

"how much has he had to drink?" jackie looks at shauna, growing more concerned. you stumble into her arms, and she catches you, trying to keep you still as you mumble incoherently into her neck.

shauna shrugs, wondering if she should intervene. you're nearly black out, but she knows this would be the only way on earth that you'd confess to jackie. "maybe 4, 5 shots?"

jackie scoffs, rolling her eyes. she grabs your face and looks at you with a soft expression. "i'm gonna take you back to my room, okay? you can rest in there until you get sober enough."

"noooo," you pout, letting yourself get tugged by her back into the house and up the stairs, which you nearly trip on. you huff and puff as she pushes you into her room, feeling old memories come back at being in here. "you're no fun."

she ignores you and guides you over to her bed, pulling the covers back and helping you get in. you have no energy to fight back as she tucks you in, moving stray hairs out of your face and kissing your forehead. she leaves for a second to fetch you water, forcing you to drink some.

"why did you have to ask me to do it?" you ask suddenly, hiccupping and closing your eyes as you feel yourself get tired.

"do what?" she says quietly, running her nails over your scalp as she watches over you.

"ask me to practice kissing." you mumble. "i hated it. i hate you."

"i'm sorry." she apologizes, feeling a pang of sadness at your words. "i never wanted to make you fe-."

"i think i'm in love with you, jackie."

she freezes, her movements stilling as she processes what you just said. she swallows down what she really wants to say and shakes her head, blinking away tears. "you're drunk, you don't mean that."

"i do. i've known since middle school, i just could never tell bring myself to tell you because you'd never date someone like me."

"shut up." she gets out of bed, releasing a shaky sigh and fixing her hair. she feels her stomach drop as you give her a dejected look and turns around to face the door. "you can sleep here tonight. i'll come and check on you in the morning."

she walks towards the door and opens it, not looking back to you as she whispers a "goodnight." you're too drunk right now to care about what you just did, so you close your eyes and sleep.

you wake up with arguably the biggest hangover ever and groan, covering up the creeping sunlight with your blanket. wait- not your blanket, jackie's blanket. you sit up, feeling your heart sink as you realize what happened last night.

shit.

just as you're about to get out of bed, the door opens and in walks jackie, looking surprised at you being awake.

"i've checked on you like 5 different times, and you were always asleep." she chuckles awkwardly, sitting at the foot of the bed and fingering the loose thread on her pajamas. "i didn't know if you had classes today but i figured i'd let you sleep in anyway."

"thanks." you mutter, licking your dry lips and reaching for the water she brought you last night and taking a generous swig. you glance at the clock that reads 2:33 p.m. and sigh. you do have a 3 o'clock class but you really don't think you can handle going anywhere today.

the room is filled with uncomfortable silence as you both sit and pretend like you're not glancing at each other. you fumble with the water bottle before you gather the courage and speak with a small voice.

"i'm, uh, i'm sorry about last night. i wasn't thinking." that's as best as you can do without feeling like throwing up.

"did you mean it? what you said about me?" jackie scoots closer, removing the water bottle from your grip and placing it back on the nightstand. you internally scream as you make eye contact with her before looking away, feeling too nervous. her hand covers yours and you feel a shock of electricity, nodding your head slowly as you glance back to her.

"y-yes." you finally say, voice breaking. "i meant it."

you watch as her shoulders relax, closing her eyes and sighing out. she looks to you with a half grin and playfully shoves you, bouncing to her knees on the bed and holding you by the shoulders. "you're an idiot."

"excuse me?" you furrow your eyebrows, looking at her like she's crazy.

jackie shakes her head and pushes you back so you're lying down the bed and gets onto your lap, her lips meeting yours in a sweet kiss. you feel like you're having a fever dream between the hangover and jackie kissing you, but you welcome it, placing your hands on her hips and kissing her back.

you spend at least 5 minutes catching up with a long awaited makeout session, jackie pulling back with a satisfied grin. she rests her forehead against yours and caresses your cheek with her hand, looking into your eyes with a loving expression that makes your heart flutter.

"i was waiting for you to confess to me all these years, you know." she mumbles, kissing your nose. "i was starting to think you were gay or something."

you chuckle, tracing random patterns on her back. you lean up and flip her over on her back, smiling at her sound of surprise that flies from her mouth. you place your arms over both sides of her head and kiss her gently, pulling back only slightly.

"well, here's my confession. jackie taylor, i've been in love with you since we were in middle school. you would make me the happiest man in the world if you went out with me. what do you say?"

"hmm," she ponders, giggling as you pinch her side. she brings you in for another long, sweet kiss, getting sidetracked as she stares at you.

"i say yes."

#.myworks #jackie taylor thoughts 💭#yellowjackets x reader #jackie taylor x reader

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abbatoirablaze · 1 year

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Porcelain Doll, Chapter 4

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: angst, manipulation, foreplay, implied smut, violence/fight.

“Alright Margo…so tell me…is anything new with school? Or the track team?”

You sighed, “Mist-“

“No excuses,” he began, cutting you off, “you’ve been distant since last week, and it’s showing. What happened?”

“Bucky!”

Bucky turned and he took a deep breath. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but he immediately stopped. Romeo started tugging on his leash to head towards him, but you held firm, keeping your dog from going up to see him.

“I-I don’t know why I’m here…”

You continued to stay planted at the edge of your driveway, Bucky remaining stock still on the edge of your lawn. There were so many emotions that passed his eyes as he stared at you. Confusion. Sadness. But you only felt the pain that resonated deep within your belly. The pain that he’d abandoned you.

“Y-you could come in if you wan-“

“No!” he said quickly, cutting you off, “no…I mean-“

“It’s fine,” you shrugged, pushing past him, feeling the rejection all over again. Romeo wanted to go see him, but you pulled your German Shepard towards the door, “come on Ro…”

“Margo…wait…”

“Have a good day, Mr. Barnes…”

“Margo!”

Your head snapped up towards your therapist.

Over the past few months, you’d managed to avoid Bucky Barnes. Or he would avoid you. When you were on your walks with Romeo you purposefully avoided his street, and if you saw him out running you would do your best to evade him.

It’d felt like the man who had stood up for you to move back into your childhood home had abandoned you ever since the kiss. And you didn’t know what to do.

“Margo?”

“Sorry,” you sighed, pulling yourself out of your own thoughts. You looked back to your therapist, “Track is over…and it was an alright season…I guess. I-uh…I’m going to city college in the fall. Got my early acceptance in, so that’s cool…yay college.”

“You don’t sound too happy about it…”

“I mean, four years of school after I get out of high school…not seeing the upside to that.”

“Well…don’t you want a career?”

You shrugged, “my parents each had a million dollar life insurance policy…after paying for the funerals, even if I didn’t get a degree and worked some janky job with the correct investments I don’t really have a need for anything. I already own the house…”

“You sound like you’ve disassociated from your life, Margo…”

“Wouldn’t you?” you asked, staring him down, “my parents were gunned down for trying to get dinner at the wrong place at the wrong time. All of my high school friends feel awkward around me so I’m alienated. I’ve got good grades, but no ambition for college anymore. Why should I feel happy?”

“Margo…you are the one alienating yourself,” he said firmly, “I know for a fact that my daughter and her friends have all reached out to yo-“

“I don’t need their fake pity!” you growled, shooting him a glare, “I don’t need your daughter or her friends. She’s dating Jacob Barber…the fucking prick is in my grade. I know him and his little friends were the ones that vandalized my house in the first place.”

“Do you have any proof of that?”

“Whose side are you on?” you growled, “because for a therapist, you kind of suck at helping me with my problems and listening to them.”

“It’s the end of Summer!” Jacob grinned as he held up his bottle of soda. You rolled your eyes, annoyed at how you had allowed yourself to be conned into coming to the block party that your neighborhood was throwing. You hated yourself even more for ending up in the Barber’s back yard while they grilled out, played in the pool, and had a great time.

“This is really fun!” Viv grinned, shooting you a look, “right? I mea-“

“Just because you’re friends with Ashley and her…and she’s dating Jacob the jackass, doesn’t mean we are friends. Don’t talk to me.”

Viv bit her lip, embarrassed that she had tried to talk to you. She took a step away, “I-I’m sorry, Margo.”

“Holy shit!”

Your head turned when Ashley swore. You followed her eyes and your heart instantly broke.

“No way…”

“Is that-Mr. Barnes…with a girl?”

“And here I was thinking he was taking it up the ass from Captain America all these years,” Jacob scoffed, wrapping his arm tighter around his girlfriend as he sipped on his soda, “oh hey…Margo…looks like the super soldier doesn’t like dick…he just didn’t have a thing for you!”

“Jacob!”

“Fuck off, Barber!” you spat, angrily pushing your way out of the group of kids from the neighborhood. You pushed past Bucky and his date, as well as some of the other guys from the neighborhood. You were almost to the door when you heard Mr. Barber’s voice.

“Margo…”

“Shit,” you whispered, hoping that your tears weren’t visible to him, “What is it, Mr. Barber?”

“Grab some more of the burgers from the freezer, will ya?”

“Sure…”

“Thanks sweetheart!”

You rolled your eyes, making your way into the garage, where you knew the deep freezer was. While you were bent over, grabbing another box of burgers you heard the door open. You snapped up, only to see Jacob standing there, a shit eating grin on his face, “well look what the cat dragged in.”

“Fuck off, Jacob.”

“Oh, come on, Margo…don’t be like that.”

“I said, fuck off, Jacob.” You pushed him away as he tried to come near you. You could smell booze on him, “why do you smell like booze? Have you been drinking?”

“Slipped it from my dad’s liquor cabinet,” he grinned, holding up his bottle of soda, “why? You want to party?”

You sneered, “No. Just go back to your little girlfriend and leave me the fuck alone.”

Jacob took a deep breath, continuing to step forward until he had you pinned between himself and the freezer. His glassy expression studied you, “you know…for a little tease…you’re pretty fucking cute…you ever actually fuck a guy or are you just holding out for the reformed, brainwashed fuckhead.”

“Go fuck yourself!”

You went to slap him, but he caught your hand, despite his inebriated state. His grin turned dangerous as he tsked you, “shouldn’t have done that you little fucking slut.”

He used his other hand to backhand you. Your head snapped along with it, and he stepped back, unpinning you from between himself and the freezer. A dark laugh escaped his throat, “you know what…I think I like you down there…on your hands and knees. It’s where you belong.”

You sniffled, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

“What…you going to cry, you little slut?” he taunted, “I haven’t even done anything to you yet.”

You didn’t get the chance to answer. The next thing you knew there was a heavy thud and Jacob came crumpling to the floor. You looked up to see a pissed off Andy Barber standing there, his own jaw tensed.

Jacob glared at his father, holding his jaw. You looked up at him for a moment, before looking away. He rushed you, a look of worry crossing his features, “shit…what the hell happened? Are you okay, Margo?”

“What the fuck, dad?”

“Why is she bleeding, huh?” he growled, “did you do this to her?”

“What? No! I don’t know! The stupid slut probably ran into the wall or something.” Jacob lied.

“He hit me,” you admitted slowly as Andy lifted your face, “he-he started talking about me and then he hit me when I told him to fuck off.”

“It’s not true, dad…I-“

“Jacob, get the fuck out!” Andy demanded. When Jacob didn’t move, Andy turned his attention towards his son, “Get the fuck out, Jacob. NOW!”

Jacob rushed to get away from the two of you, holding his jaw. You didn’t look up again at Andy until after the door had slammed shut and Andy was lifting your face, inspecting it. You tried to shake him off, the tears beginning to fall down your cheeks, “Mr. Barber-“

“Are you okay to walk?” You nodded, and he helped you up, “let me get you cleaned up, upstairs, and you can tell me what happened, okay?”

“I don’t wan-“

“Margo…”

You stopped speaking, not want to argue with the man that was helping. You sighed, and he led the way through the house, upstairs, until he’d reached the bathroom. He began fumbling through the cabinets, getting frustrated as the seconds passed, and he didn’t automatically come up with any bandages.

“That fucking little shit!” he growled, “I think he’s got the first aid kit in his room…wait right here, Margo. I’ll be back.”

You watched as he walked out of the bathroom. Turning towards the mirror, you frowned when you saw your lip had split. The blood had dried up, but you didn’t appreciate the small bruise that was left by your mouth from the back of his hand making contact with your face. You sniffled, touching the tender skin, but retracting your hand a second later.

With another sigh you turned away, and went through the hall and into Jacob’s room, where Andy was looking for the first aid kit. He went into the adjoining bathroom and a devious thought crossed your mind.

“Mr. Barber…”

“I swear, it has to be in here!” Andy called from the bathroom, “give me a second, Margo…and I’ll get you patched up.”

You locked the door and slid out of your summer dress. Feeling the rage inside of you, knowing that Bucky was probably still enjoying the party with his date, you removed your bra and panties, leaving you only in your heels.

Andy walked back into his son’s bedroom but dropped the first aid kit when he saw you standing naked in the middle of the room. The band aids, gauze, and items inside the kit spilled onto the floor. Andy’s breath caught in his throat, “Margo…wh-what are you doing?”

It had been circulating the neighborhood for most of the summer.

The email chains.

The single guys catching wind of it and texting the link to each other.

Bucky would have been lying to himself to say that he didn’t watch it; even though the guilt of it nearly consumed him.

Andy’s hands skimmed up her body, his large hands capturing your hips. A shiver ran up your spine as he squeezed them gently, pulling you towards his body so that you could feel the growing erection through his board shorts. Your nipples pebbled against his toned chest.

Your eyes fluttered up to his and he shuddered when your hands nimbly picked at the buttons of his Tommy Bahama shirt.

“Margo…”

“I want to feel you, Andy,” you whimpered gently as you undid the last button and ran your hand up his chest. You pressed your own bare chest against his, and you felt his nails digging into your hips, his cock twitching eagerly against the shorts, “I want to feel a man inside of me…a real man like you.”

His eyes fluttered closed as your hands trailed back down his chest, nails grazing over the firm, slightly hairy stomach, down to the hem of his shorts. Gently, you pulled them down, releasing his impressive, girthy length from its confines.

You gasped.

He smiled, “think you can handle a real man, sweetheart?”

“Oh, I know I can,” you purred, leaning against his chest a little bit more as you reached up to his cock to start stroking him. Andy groaned, his head lulling slightly as you leaned up and began kissing his neck, “fuck me good, Andy…”

“Margo, I-“

But Bucky stopped himself from speaking.

His brow furrowed as he looked at the young couple who had answered the door.

“Can we help you?”

“You’re not Margo!” Bucky answered, his tone sounding slightly hurt and very confused, “wh-where’s Margo?”

“We’re renting the house this semester from her while she lives on campus…was she expecting you to show up?” the man asked, “do you know Margo?”

“She-I-family friend,” he said quickly, instantly changing his story, “I thought she was going to stay at the house until after school started.”

“She figured it would be best if she…got away for a little while…after that video surfaced…” The wife said nervously, looking around outside as if someone was listening in to the conversation, “you know…”

Bucky sighed, his throat going dry, “Yeah…yeah…that makes sense…do-do you guys know where she’s living?”

“She’s staying somewhere in the city, that’s all we know,” the man shrugged, “we send our rent checks to a PO Box there.”

“Honey!” the woman proclaimed, pulling her husband back towards her, “we shouldn’t be giving out her information…”

“I didn’t tell him an-“

“Look, if you’re really a family friend, you should have her number,” she said quickly, looking to push the door closed, “you should try reaching out to her, instead.”

Chapter 5

Tag List: @teambarnes72, @lohnes16

#porcelain doll #big bad wolf au #bucky fanfic #bucky #bucky barnes #marvel au #marvel #the avengers #sergeant james buchanan barnes #sergeant james barnes #james buchanan barnes #the winter solider #the winter soldier #andy barber smut #andy barber #defending jacob

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espressodepressogirl · 10 months

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It's been 3 years since I posted here but heeere we fucking go.

First off, holy shit the app has changed and after ten long fucking years they finally added a read more option into the app. About fucking time.

Anyway, existential crisis hours on deck.

Like all my blood tests are coming back as fucked as ever. Somehow my imaging said my liver is fine. Yay, I guess, but the whole area hurts like a mother fucker. I don't get how they excuse that shit, but I have to assume they're using statistics and it's likely I have a thinner rib cage than average, so even though my liver is on the larger end of acceptable it's just too large for what my body can accommodate. The tech that did it said she can see it's enlarged enough to impact my heart and breathing, but whoever officially signed off said it's okay. Who the fuck knows.

My bloodwork is as fucked as ever. Since the hepatitis came back negative that's one issue that's knocked off the list, but my levels they're monitoring are so fucked. So far I'm coming up negative for illnesses that can be tested for, but that leaves no answers for how I got here. My strongest guess is that it's based on my medication, but aside from my mounjaro shot everything else was out of my system by the time I took my blood tests.

Also I don't even know if this is necessarily based on my medication. The meds I was given are standards for my situation. Mounjaro to help the pre diabetic symptoms and weight loss, metformin for blood sugar, birth control pills to prevent cramping, and spironolactone to act as an androgen blocker. All super standard to take together for PCOS. I don't necessarily understand how they could have lead to these issues. At most maybe the metformin since I had a back reaction to another version, but who fucking knows.

The doctors are just releasing all my test results to me without talking to me first. I just keep seeing all the bad shit and I'm wondering why they aren't calling me or giving me a heads up. Right now I'm captain of the Google team trying to see what's possibly going on. All I can really gain is that I either have fatty liver issues, an infection of some sort that's not been available through a blood test, super lactic acidosis from the metformin, or non drinking based cirrhosis. All of which I have no idea how to address. The metformin one should have been resolved already since the body metabolizes it out in a few days, so my tests on 7/14 shouldn't have been worse than 7/5 when I stopped taking metformin on 7/7.

Aside from the cause, which is basically a null point, I don't know what to do. I feel as shitty as ever all the time. It feels like my organs are trying to burst out of my rib cage on the right side and I can't fucking breathe. On top of that I'm an emotional mess. Anything and everything sets me off and I don't know if it's the stress or what.

I'm so mad. I'm mad at my parents for never giving a shit about my health since I was a kid. I'm mad at my mom for prioritizing her desire to avoid doctors over my wellbeing. I'm mad that when she got over that bs it was only for herself so I could play nurse maid for her. I'm mad that I couldn't afford to go to the doctor on my own for years. I'm mad that my body has failed me despite my best efforts. I'm mad I wasn't just born normal. I'm mad I was so neglected that no one cared. I'm mad that I've watched my life pass by. I'm mad that I've come last in every close irl relationship I've ever had. I'm mad that I haven't experienced true happiness in years. I'm mad about my lack of love life. I'm mad that my genetic issues made me so ugly and fucked up. I'm just mad that I can't fucking win no matter how hard I try.

I just wanted a basic, normal life for a woman. So a bit of college, work, get married, live with my husband and have a happy, modest life. I didn't want much, I never asked for anything if I couldn't do it myself. I don't know what I did wrong to not deserve that. I don't understand what else God or the fates want out of me. To die? Alone and unloved? Surrounded by my parents that couldn't have cared about me in the first place? Worst of all is that aside from my parents I only have two friends. Neither can see me. I'm stuck rotting in their house just slaving at schoolwork on the off chance I make it through and I don't want GPA to be bad. I wish I wasn't such a try hard and could just relax, but I can't even chill out if I tried. My professors will not excuse my work and give me an incomplete to finish later. I can't sit still if someone does something for me because my mother raised me to be her caretaker rather than my mother taking care of me. Wild concept that me, with fucking liver failure to the point my doctor doesn't know how I'm alive, is having to rush around my mother to cook and clean when I'm here to be on bed rest in the first place.

I wish I wasn't stuck here, but I'm sort of trapped. My parents won't leave me alone and I know it's because they care. It's just very much too little too late. Where were these fucks they had to give when allllll this shit began in spring of 2013? Why did they not care when I told them I was throwing up at least once a day just a week ago? Suddenly they care. I have to assume it's because I'm their meal ticket. I have a feeling they only agreed to help put me through college again for the sake of cashing out when I finish and get to working since that's about the time dad retires. Can't have their meal ticket dying on them, I guess.

Makes me so frustrated. I lived my whole life for them. I did everything for them, to make them happy and proud. I drove myself crazy and to misery for them. Every social expectation they had I live up to. Every task they asked I completed. And for what? To live my life as their little puppet? I hate it. I've been disciplined so hard by those fuckers that I lived in Stockholm syndrome for my whole life. Even all these years later I won't be free, I don't think I would have ever been free unless they or I die. Whichever comes first.

Also I'm so fucking tired of my forever existial crisis of dying alone. And before now it's been a hint of sarcasm, like I had at least another 40 years to find someone, so like I would have hated living my life solo but it was an option. I don't even know if I'll have that option. It's such low hanging fruit of a goal as well. Just wanting a partner that genuinely loves me seems to be asking for too much. Really, really burns my tits when I try to talk to anyone. It's always "one day you'll meet someone" or "it'll happen when you least expect it" but it's always coming from people who are either in relationships or don't want one. Like of course that's easy to say, you don't know where I'm coming from. You don't know what it's like to live your whole adult life watching yourself get uglier and uglier. You don't know what it's like to insulted mid sex or find out how much your ex can't stand you. I can't even sleep around for fun to fix the void. I'm fucking demi as hell, I literally can't get turned on unless I feel something and I'm not so delusional to fall for a one night stand. On top of that it's no longer an option, I'm just stuck in pain from sitting, I highly doubt being jostled around during sex would be comfortable, much less pleasurable.

I'm disappointed looking back at my life. I have nothing to show for my whole existence. As an artist I've created nothing. I've never worked anything but dead end jobs. I couldn't even finish a real degree before my 30s. I have no family of my own, not even a boyfriend that lasts more than a few months. I can't even make more than two friends. I'm not even good at my hobbies. There's no goals and no dreams, I didn't even plan to live this long in the first place. I don't even have a purpose.

Is this all my life is? Mediocrity? What even was all this for? Why did I have to suffer all this time? Why was I even born? Is my life even worth the resources to continue it? Do I even want to get better? Would the world be better off without me?

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universalistotalis · 3 years

Text

Stiff That You Love

Ushijima Wakatoshi (Timeskip!) x Female reader

Masterlist!!!

You never thought you'd see him again. You almost choked on the truffle pasta that you ordered in this café when a certain beautiful giant waved and made his way to you.

"Holy damn." You whispered underneath your breath as his strides made their way towards your table. You knew he was already a show stopper back then, but now???!

You were so sure everyone would drop dead at the sight of him.

"Hi." He greeted with his deep voice. "Do you still remember me?"

Surprise filled your expression at his question but you smiled politely and nodded your head. "How could I forget? How are you Ushijima?"

You swore you saw a glint of relief and excitement in his eyes but it immediately wavered as he motioned to the chair in front of you.

"May I?" He asked again, holding the back of the chair.

Is he really going to sit here with me?!

"Sure, of course." Your voice squeaked at the feeling of your heart bursting out of your chest. His greeting was enough to kick the air out of your lungs but a whole conversation?! You didn't know how long you would last in his ever- intimidating presence.

It was already the last year in college and you were so determined to graduate with latin honors. Every single minute of your life, you dedicated it to studies, friends and family. They were all that mattered. And so you stayed until the wee hours at certain café spots around the university or at the library inside the campus. You went to meet up with friends during the weekends only for a simple dinner or lunch. You called your family members every chance you get during free time. That was your life. And you were content.

But then this boy came in to the picture.

"You will be partnered together and I shall assign the pair. Make sure you finish the written output, video presentation, and oral defense at the end of the semester." Those were the words of your professor during one of your classes before yours and his name were called out together.

You swore it was fate. Romance was really not in the forefront of your mind but as they say, "You'll find it best when you're not looking".

AND MY GOD WERE YOU SO WRONG!

This man named Ushijima Wakatoshi who came out from nowhere, looking as good they come, had no ounce of romance nor funny bone in his muscular body. He was the most dense, most serious, most infuriating man you've ever met in your whole life!!! He was a whole perfectionist, always so blunt at his comments about the outputs that you showed him. He was also so strict with the deadlines, not considering that you had other classes than this that had much more weight and importance.

You were so close to giving up but...

"Y/n?" You knew that voice only belonged to the certain antagonist in your story right now.

Your hands trembled as you wiped the tears streaming down your face after your meeting together at the library.

"Ushijima, hey!" You pretended to be your usual chirpy self as you turned around to face him.

It was already late so the lights surrounding the university casted an unworldly glow on his face. He was always so breathtaking no matter where you put him but damn those looks! He was just as heartless.

"Are you alright?" He asked with a worried tone.

"I'm fine. I'll be going home now. See you next week." You excused yourself.

"Wait." His cold fingers caught your arm and that made you stop your tracks.

"Is there a problem, Wakatoshi?"

He bowed his head before slowly releasing you in his grip. "I wanted to apologize for my behavior."

"W-what?" You wanted to make sure if what your ears heard was right. He does not seem the type to apologize.

You heard another deep sigh as he looked at you. "I've always been told that I come off too much to others. I didn't realize it until recently when one of my friends told me."

"Oh, well..."

"I'll try to be better though. I'll be more careful from now on. And I'm really sorry if I ever hurt your feelings in the past." He said with all seriousness that you can't help but sigh and just nod.

"You can be really mean sometimes." You agreed and chuckled, letting a tear escape your eyes.

"You've been crying." He stated flatly as if he was reciting a trivia. "I'm still so sorry."

You giggled. "Yeah, I forgive you. Anyway, it's getting late, Wakatoshi. We have to head home."

"I'll walk you home." He said with a finality in his voice. You were again, surprised by his actions but just agreed because this was such a draining day.

And as you were nearing where you stayed, you were again surprised at how comforting his presence was.

You did find his presence after that night relaxing. He became more tactful and he started to insert jokes during your meetings which shocked you so much the first time that he felt a little offended. You became such close friends that his team mates in volleyball were again, shocked that he managed to get a friend outside the team. It was just a matter of getting used to, you thought to yourself. He's just so honest, mechanical, and straightforward to a fault and you got to master how to tell him off when needed. He also developed to trust you so whenever he needed advice, he would always go to you and trust your honest words.

Looking at him now, it made your heart warm at how far he'd come. It's amazing to have known him then. To have seen how he grew as an athlete, a student, and a person. He may still be a little stiff but that's just the Wakatoshi you've come to love.

"Soo..." He started while sitting back down again after claiming his coffee from the counter. "I am not disturbing you, am I?" He pointed at the laptop and papers next to you.

You laughed. "Not at all! I finished them anyway."

"How have you been then?" He asked. His elbows were resting on the table and his hands were holding on to the cup of coffee. The sight was a little funny considering his giant built was leaned onto a very small table.

You smiled gently. "I've been good! I got the job that I dreamed of having and I own some businesses too. Ho--"

"Your eyes sparkle the same way." He cut off.

"What?" You asked, surprised at his random comment.

"Your eyes..." He pointed out. "They sparkle the same way they did in college when you were talking about something you like."

"How did you notice that?" You laughed.

"I'm known to be observant." He smirked slightly, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Okay, Mr. Oh-So-Observant, how are your matches going? I've been tuning in since the first tournament and it looks like you're going to the semi- finals!" You cheered not hiding your pride and excitement for the country's national volleyball team. When you searched on how to watch the live games, you insisted that you were there to cheer for the country and definitely NOT to cheer and simp for a certain brown- haired, serious player. Definitely NOT!

"You've been watching our games?" He asked, eyes slightly widening at the thought of you cheering for him. What he didn't know was that you were always watching his games since college, not missing even one match. You were always there, crying at how proud you were of him. Also, crying at how much he could never be yours.

"Of course, I have, silly!" You chuckled and pointed at your laptop. "I've been watching here and you're just so amazing and strong!"

He suddenly paused at your statement, silently raising a brow at you and smiling softly.

"I- I meant that your whole team is amazing and strong." You clarified, a blush automatically painting the whole of your face and ears.

"Would you like to go tomorrow?" He blinked, setting down his cup on the wooden surface. "To the game, I mean?"

Your eyes widened at his offer. "Are you serious?!"

He chuckled at your reaction. "Of course! We're allowed to bring spectators for the games, I'll just give you the tickets."

"Wow, Ushijima, thank you so much! It's an honor!" You chimed excitedly, jumping a little on your chair.

"The honor's mine." He replied, grinning at you.

He already knew back then that you were one of a kind. No one ever really stayed and tried to understand his demeanor and personality but you did. You were so honest and kind and you always knew what to do or say to keep him at ease. You accepted him for who he was and he's so thankful to have met such a beautiful soul. Even when you were doing nothing, even when you're just sitting across this table from him, without you knowing, you already made up his entire exhausting day. Hell, you made up all those exhausting years of not seeing each other since you two graduated. He suddenly imagined if being with you would always be like this. So peaceful and just pure bliss...

"You've got to be shitting on me! Is that Ushiwaka?" The pair sitting next to the glass walls of the café was oblivious of the red- haired tower and group of men walking past the street. All of them were wearing coats and casual attires as they're planning to go for lunch at their favorite restaurant for a little reunion. The all powerful Shiratorizawa Volleyball Team, headed by Ushijima in high school, cowered like puppies at the name of their captain being mentioned.

"Where?!" Goshiki stopped and shielded himself from an invisible force. "He said he couldn't make it!"

"I guess our baby's growing up, look!" Tendou hummed and pointed at the two of you laughing and looking at each other with heart eyes. "I bet they don't know that they're shooting hearts at each other."

"I never thought he could smile like that." Semi whispered.

"Yeah well, he's been crushing on that girl since college." Tendou filled the silent wonder of the whole group. "That's why she looked familiar! He kept sending me photos of them together studying or something..."

"Studying, my ass!" Shirabu laughed as they continued staring and hiding behind a post at the same time.

They all burst out laughing and again Tendou chuckled. "No seriously, they were studying!"

"Yeah well, they look good together. I hope he'd have the balls to ask her out. Please god!" Goshiki put his hands together as if seriously praying.

"Bet you 10, 000 yen, we'd be attending his wedding two years from now." Semi challenged.

"Nah, I'll go with a year." Tendou offered.

The men casted their bets on how long you and Ushijima would get married. They knew their captain so well to be sure enough that he was serious with you. Safe to say, Semi won the bet.

Reblogs are appreciated! <3

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earnestly-endlessly · 3 years

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kind of an odd request — do you have fics where erik is grumpy with everyone else but a ray of sunshine with charles?

Hi anon, thank you for the ask. First and foremost, I'm so sorry for how long this took me but I've been searching for all the fics that come to mind that fit your request. Second, this is not an odd request because I love this trope so much. I mean, it's basically canon that he's grumpy with everyone except for his Charles, right? Anyway, I might add to this list later on, but I can't sit on this any longer and hope that you have found some fics that you enjoy!!

Fic Recs Where Erik is grumpy with everyone but a ray of sunshine with Charles

Twice as Blind – Darksknight

Summary: Erik is probably the biggest asshole on the face of the earth, and because of this, he'll probably die alone. Charles is a complete flirt and playboy and, probably, will never commit to anyone ever.

(The lesson here is that when you have two friends who are BOTH secretly seeing someone, well, it's probable that they're seeing each other.)

In the moonlight, on a joy ride – scarlettblush

Summary: Librarian AU. Charles is the young librarian and Erik is the college student who is completely besotted with him.

The Proper Care of Actors – Clear_Liqueur, Clocks, Etherei, afrocurl

Summary: Erik is an A-list action star who is notoriously difficult to work with, until the day he gets cast alongside Charles Xavier, rom-com darling who can charm the pants off movie audiences the world over and apparently even one Erik Lehnsherr. The paparazzi catch them out and about soon enough, and their real-life Hollywood movie romance becomes instant tabloid fodder.

Rumor Mill – ikeracity

Summary: Erik is the grumpiest, most foul tempered worker at Stark industries. His grumpiness is the stuff of legends.

So it's obviously the talk of the office when Erik is being made to go to the company party and he's bringing his husband. There's rumors flying round about how much of a masochist or equally antisocial bastard Erik's husband must be to put up with him. Others think he must be a meek mouse perhaps bullied by Erik.

What they weren't expecting was the confident, charming, adorable and unbelievably nice Charles that turns up on Erik's arm. What they certainly weren't expecting was how much Erik obviously adores his husband and how happy he is to let others see this.

Work/Life Balance – pocky_slash

Summary: Alex is pretty sure his weird, anti-social boss is a robot. Right up until the guy's adorable husband shows up. His adorable husband who happens to be a famous actor. His adorable husband who happens to be the very same famous actor who was the source of many of Alex's teenage fantasies.

Terrifying Domesticity – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is the most dangerous and notorious mafia boss around for miles, and yet the strangest things terrify him.

For example: his children, and his very pregnant mate.

Of kittens and teacups and love – Ren

Summary: Modern AU in which Charles and Erik are flatmates. Charles studies psychology and likes tea and chess and keeps bringing home stray kittens, and Erik lets him because he's maybe perhaps a little bit sort of in love with him.

Fools Rush In – LoveSupreme

Summary: Erik owns a cafe on the edge of campus and accidentally starts maybe-stalking a Biology Professor there.

Growing Pains – ikeracity

Summary: Twelve-year-old Erik Lehnsherr is an angry, closed-off foster kid with trust issues and a bad temper. Ten-year-old Charles Xavier is a lonely kid in boarding school who just wants a friend.

Logan pretends he doesn't think they're both fucking adorable.

Series

Home Together (The Finding Our Way Remix) – significantowl

Summary: Erik is not the sort of person other students strike up conversations with. His expression, his posture, every part of his manner say: Don’t talk to me. I don’t want to talk to you. But none of that stops the boy ahead of him in line with the collapsible white cane, and nothing can stop Erik from falling for him, like it or not.

Melted Ice Cream and Macaroni Art – pocky_slash

Summary: Everybody likes Charles. Nobody likes Erik. And that's really the source of Erik's doubts. Also, there's ice cream and a baby. Part of ‘the Daycare’ verse.

Walling in or Walling Out – stlkrchck

Summary: Erik stifles a sigh. Of course this is Mr. C. F. Xavier. Of course.

For the prompt: Charles and Raven are throwing a holiday party. Erik is the grumpy neighbor who is annoyed by how loud they are being. So he goes to complain, and Charles makes it up to him.

(Wise Men Say) Only Fools Rush In – wildelybroken

Summary: After reading a fic where Erik and Charles are super sluts, meet at what is presumably Raven and Emma's engagement party, and end up sleeping together, I made the following comment and just inspired myself.

"They start casually texting each other throughout the day, maybe while they’re bored or frustrated at work, and start out meeting up and sleeping together semi-frequently. And eventually they accidentally start dating without noticing it at first, not until Raven and Emma get them alone and are like “wtf you two super sluts are actually dating??” And at first they deny, but then they’re both like “holy shit, we are!” And they meet back at one of their places and they don’t have to say anything, they just look at each other and come together immediately, kissing passionately and ~making love~. In the middle of it they realise that’s what they’ve been doing for a long time now and they confess their love to each other and they live happily ever after because they deserve all the good in the world."

For Charles – Shigai

Summary: Tired of being told he has to find his 'heart', classical piano graduate Erik Lehnsherr decides to travel to Italy and drink from the famous Italian passion for music. While searching for it, he meets Charles Xavier, a graduate in Fine Arts who is basically travelling around the world perfectioning his technique, and who will turn his world upside down.

Together they will discover that, sometimes, what you thought you didn't need is what you needed the most.

Erik Hates People – Anonymous

Summary: Erik hates people- it's his rule, a way of living.

Sugar – humanitys_cutest

Summary: Erik glances at the clock for what feels like the tenth time in less than half the minutes. It feels like he's been in some meeting or other since the day started almost 10 hours ago, and he's had just about enough of listening to these pompous old men discuss what would be the best design for his building like they know anything about it. He tries as subtly as possible to massage his temples to assuage the building migraine, but he knows it's no use.

He just wants to go home.

Everyone Likes Charles – Rosawyn

Summary: '“Everyone who's met him likes him.” Cain's grin was even stupider than before. “Once you meet him, you'll see.”

It was almost like a challenge then. And damn. Erik hated saying no to a challenge.'

Still Going Strong – JackyJango

Summary: Speaking of forty-eight, Erik hates it. Hates it even more that others are aware of it. While he’s pragmatic enough to know and accept that aging is inexorable, the increase in number gives the people around him the freedom to pounce at him with questions, opinions and advice he'd fought to keep at bay all year.

Besides, Erik believes that youth is a state of mind, not a phase in one’s life.

You have a child’s mind in a man’s body, Charles constantly tells him.

But despite his age, Erik is healthy. He works out daily. His muscles are steel and he can dead-lift four hundred pounds. He can break bones without breaking a sweat. Most importantly, he can still carry Charles to the bedroom and fuck him senseless. And as long as Erik can do that, he’s perfectly happy.

All I know is pouring rain and everything has changed – hllfire

Summary: Charles meets Erik, the man he had heard about many times from his sister and some friends, on a rainy Sunday morning. The stories about Erik paint him as a distant and intimidating man, but Charles finds out that maybe the stories had been wrong.

How to Successfully Ruin Your Life – humanveil

Summary: Seventeen-year-old Charles Xavier accepts a job at his local café, expecting nothing more than a fun, new pastime. What he gets is a mysterious customer and a schoolboy crush.

Stolen – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is a miserable, grumpy, cantankerous bastard, and he has every fucking right to be. He drew the short end of the stick when he got the Underworld as his domain, and there isn't very much fun to be had in judging and governing dead souls who would rather be anywhere else but with Erik in the depths of Hell.

So when he meets Charles, brilliant and lovely Charles who is more popularly known amongst the mortals as Persephone, and feels the promise of something wonderful that could make his eternally doomed existence infinitely more bearable... you can bet all your drachmas Erik's not going to let Charles go any fucking time soon.

Erik Lehnsherr's Guide to Saving the Universe By Meeting Your Soul-Mate and Falling in Love in Less than 72 Hours – magneto, pangea

Summary:Army Pilot Erik Lehnsherr is just trying to enjoy his day off when a mostly naked person crashes through the roof of his car. Even more alarming, the strange falling naked person—who goes by Charles Xavier when he's not speaking an ancient dead language—brings tidings of the apparent potential end of the world, and begs Erik to help him put a stop to it.

Well. His mother has been nagging at him to go out and meet new people.

The Theory of Partnership Dynamics – Pangea

Summary: “Detective Lehnsherr, how wonderful to see you out on the job!” The fed in the front greets him as they draw nearer. He’s shorter than the other two by a full head, and he’s beaming at Lehnsherr as if completely undeterred by Lehnsherr’s paint-peeling scowl.

“What do the feds want?” Lehnsherr asks bluntly.

“You know I can’t tell you that,” the fed answers cheerfully. Then his gaze lands on Alex, and, impossibly, his grin gets even brighter. “Did you get a new partner?"

“No,” Lehnsherr says through his teeth while at the same time Alex says, “Yes.”

#fic recs #cherik fic recs #cherik #asks #earnestly answers #I'm sure there are waaaay more fics out there #might add more later

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indecisive-behaviors · 3 years

Text

Originally I was just going to add this as a reblog to my previous post about the parking lot scene in KK2 but it’s almost 2k words so now it’s getting it’s own post. Be forewarned- this is fucking long.

TW for discussion of PTSD, child abuse, neglect, injury, and death, in relation to topics surrounding the show, under the cut-

Obviously, Cobra Kai is a show based around the premise of “what happened to that Lawrence kid after he got kicked in the face?”, which is honestly a pretty cool idea for a show. Johnny’s story is never explained past sitting on the sidewalk with his head in his hands at the tournament, and there are no real context clue’s to figure out what may or may not have happened.

In the show we get to learn early on that Johnny’s life spiraled after the tournament, going from bad to worse to “holy shit how are you still alive”-dropping out/never going to college, working jobs he seems to hate, becoming an alcoholic, presumably many dead end relationships, and not being there for his kid. And yeah, obviously, this would be a hard pill to swallow for anyone watching the show if Johnny had just lost the tournament. If we never got the scene in KK2, he would have just been some kid who lost a tournament- we see at the end of the first movie that(through tears holy shit Billy) that Johnny is the one who gives the trophy to Daniel with his famous line, “You’re alright, LaRusso.” There’s a level of grudging respect in that moment that isn’t lost on anyone who sees that movie- that Johnny, who throughout the movie only sees Daniel as some whimpy kid, gets proven wrong and respects that. If we didn’t have that scene, there’s reason to believe Johnny would have apologized, tried to make amends, Something, even if it was just being less of a dick at school.

But then, we get the parking lot. We get a far off shot, intended to distance you from the scene, framed over Daniel’s shoulder. This makes sense, Daniel is the main character, the protagonist, the underdog hero- why wouldn’t it be framed in his perspective? But the scene is about Johnny. We get the shouting match, the back and forth- “No, you’re the loser man.”- and again it’s fairly obvious how Johnny sees this situation. This is a man who we assume(and is later confirmed) to be a surrogate father figure, who set his friend up for failure, and then basically forced him to do the same by targeting an injured opponent, and forcing him to fight without honor. This same man presumably follows a teenager out to the parking lot, to harass him, to tell him he’s off the team, to tell him he’s a loser, that he’s nothing.

But at that point, Johnny knows the truth, even if subconsciously. At the end of the day Johnny knows that Daniel LaRusso was a worthy opponent, and that regardless of the cheating and manipulation, Daniel could have won anyway, and did win, despite of it.

And then Kreese grabs him, too fast to react to, Johnny too surprised even knowing that Kreese is the bad guy here, not believing that he would ever willingly hurt him- and Johnny isn’t strong enough to fight him off, none of the boys are, so Johnny is forced to suffocate for almost a full 30 seconds(which I double checked for the record- also as a reference, 30 seconds is about the average time it takes for a person voluntarily holding their breath to pass out- this does not account for the oxygen lost during a struggle, and the lack of preparation from both surprise and panic. The only silver lining here is the fact that Kreese was most likely compressing his windpipe, not his jugular, which would have made him pass out in about 5-10 seconds, and would have caused permanent brain damage or death in about 15).

Now, PTSD is a complex thing. I’m not a psychiatrist, and what small amount of information we have is all we have to work off of, but I feel fairly comfortable in saying Johnny mostly likely developed it after the incident. This not an uncommon take in the fandom as far as I’m aware either. But, if we assume this, we also have to assume that after the fact nothing would have been done about this. Not just in the sense that we still don’t really know everything that happened right after the tournament, but that in the early 80s, PTSD wasn’t really a thing yet.

Sure it was absolutely a condition that existed, but Post Traumatic Stress Disorder wasn’t even added to the DSM-III until 1980- and for a long time afterward, was only seen as a condition that affected primarily war vets. Even after an event as traumatic as having a man you considered a father trying to kill you, in public, without remorse, would not have been seen as something to warrant the diagnoses, let alone treatment.

Johnny Lawrence was 17 when Kreese tried to kill him, and this boy would have been offered no resources beyond filing charges with the police. And as we see in KK3, either this didn’t happen either, or someone(presumably Silver) got the charges dropped. So on top of almost being murdered, Johnny had to live with the fact that the man who did that to him was still out there, and to top it off, still ran a dojo at least for a few months after the event. The only relief he could have gotten is after Kreese faked his death.

And sure, Mr Miyagi may have gotten Kreese to let go eventually, but as several people have pointed out in comments and tags, left him and the other boys alone with Kreese still standing there in the parking lot and just... drove off. Kreese has already been established to be a psycho with no problem hurting children, a little bit of glass might not have prevented him from trying again.

So why did I talk about all of that? Because it all contributes to why Daniel LaRusso works as a credible antagonist in season 1 of Cobra Kai.

Think about this- Johnny blames losing everything on Daniel in season 1, but we specifically get a shot in KK1 and later KK2(”You’re alright, LaRusso” and “I did my best” come to mind) where he seems to be at least mostly accepting of the fact that he lost(with what was actually an illegal kick but that’s a rant for another time). So why does he blame him for everything 30 years later?

Because 30 years later, Johnny is forced to go outside, go to work, and pretend like he doesn’t see what feels like every street corner(including right outside his apartment mind you), a literal billboard sized reminder of what happened to him.

The rest of this is mostly speculation but it makes sense in my head so bear with me.

When we get introduced to Robby, it’s made pretty clear that Johnny has not been in his life for a bit. In season 2 we get Johnny’s heart to heart with Miguel, where he divulges that he missed the birth, because he spiraled after his mom’s death. This however doesn’t suggest that he stayed gone, especially knowing that it wasn’t long enough for Robby to not consider seeking out his dad. Because tacked up to the fridge, is a picture of Robby in his soccer uniform as a kid. It’s an early detail you can see in previous episodes, and says a lot about how Robby grew up. To be fair, this could have been given to him by Shannon, and not taken himself, but it’s the sport Robby’s playing that makes me question this. KK1 dedicates an entire scene to Johnny being on the soccer team in high school. Soccer, while maybe not as important to him as karate, is still part of his character. Robby does not know karate in season 1, Johnny obviously didn’t share it with him, but that doesn’t mean Johnny didn’t share anything with him.

So Johnny’s back in his kids life, maybe doing better for himself, maybe cutting back on the drinking. LaRusso Auto is already established to exist at this point but it’s in Encino, a place Johnny has no reason to go to, and probably doesn’t want to. He’s trying again and things are okay. But Robby knows enough about Daniel to know that going to him will piss off his dad. So Johnny had to have talked about him at some point. The billboards here are what’s important- they’re in the first episode, the first scene montage, Johnny draws a dick on one of them as some petty revenge.

The first billboard goes up in the late 2000s to mid 2010s. Johnny sees it, maybe he has Robby with him at the time, maybe he goes home and says something there, but he says something in a way that sticks with even a child as being important. More billboards go up. Dealerships starting popping up more and more. Daniel’s face, and by extension, the memories, the flashbacks, become inescapable. Johnny, for a third time, spirals again. Before he even knows what’s happening, he’s lost his relationship with his son. And it’s all Daniel’s fault. Of course Daniel doesn’t do it deliberately, but the constant reminders are enough to send him back into a tailspin and Johnny blames him for it.

Because it’s Daniel who is a constant reminder of his failures- it’s Daniel who caused him to lose the tournament and almost get killed, Daniel who put up the billboards that trigger his flashbacks, it’s always Daniel Daniel Daniel.

And then Johnny gets it in his head that he wants to be better. He opens a dojo, teaches Miguel and the other kids, wants to try again- and he almost succeeds.

Johnny up to this point has not deliberately antagonized Daniel in any way. Sure he named the dojo Cobra Kai, but Cobra Kai is all he knows. Besides Johnny doesn’t blame karate for his failures, his best memories are Cobra Kai and he’s trying to be better than Kreese. So what’s the harm in this really? His building is in Reseda, there’s no reason for Daniel to ever be there, he doesn’t do it out of spite, it’s because he lives there and rent is cheap. He doesn’t know about KK3, doesn’t know about Daniel’s own trauma. This isn’t an attack. Johnny sincerely just doesn’t know.

Enter Daniel, stage left. Daniel makes no attempt to talk to him- he simply makes demands and accusations, before he starts making active attempts to put him out of business.

Sure, we as the audience know Daniel has good reasons to not want Cobra Kai back. But Johnny doesn’t. All Johnny knows is that the kid he picked on in high school- who won, who got everything Johnny wanted, who grew up to be successful, has a wonderful wife, two kids who love him, a thriving business- is doing everything he can to make his life hell 30 years after the fact.

And this could only have happened because in 1986 John G. Avildsen decided to add in a scene meant for the original movie into the sequel, for absolutely no fucking reason.

#meta analysis #ranting about cobra kai cuz I can #johnny lawrence #daniel larusso #cobra kai #karate kid #I will never get over the fact that that was an actual scene that they filmed #and then got no resolution #FOR 30 YEARS #I apologize to everyone for this post #obviously I have a lot of feelings about this

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nevermindirah · 4 years

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I've been drafting and redrafting this meta post for weeks now. It's about to be 5781 and my country that was founded on settler colonial genocide and slavery and a deeply flawed but fierce attachment to democracy might go full dictatorship in about 6 weeks and it's time for me to post this thing.

All our immortals are warriors, all have been traumatized by war. But only three of them died their first deaths as soldiers in imperial armies. This fandom has already produced gallons of meta on Nicky dealing with his shit, because Joe would not fuck with an unapologetic Crusader. But there's very rich stuff in Booker and Nile's experiences and the parallels and distinctions between them.

Nile was 11 when her dad was killed in action - that was 2005, meaning she and her dad both died in the same war that George W Bush started in very tenuous response to 9/11. Sure, Nile's dad could have died in either Iraq or Afghanistan, or in a training accident or in an off-the-books mission we won't know about for a hundred more years, but he died in the War on Terror all the same. I had to look it up to be sure because Obama "drew down" the Afghanistan war in his second term, but nope, we're still in this fucking thing that never should've happened in the first place. The US war in Afghanistan just turned 19 years old. A lot of real-life Americans have experiences like the Freemans, parents and children both dying in the same war we shouldn't be in.

I know a lot of people like Nile who join the US military not just because it's the only realistic way for them to pay for college or afford decent healthcare, but also because they have a family history of military service that's a genuine source of pride. Military service has been a way for Americans of color to be accepted by white Americans as "true Americans" - from today's Dreamers who Obama promised would earn protection from deportation by enlisting, to Filipino veterans of WW2 earning US citizenship that Congress then denied them for several decades, to slaves "earning" their freedom through service in the Union Army and in the Continental Army before it. As if freedom is a thing one should have to earn. Lots of Black Americans have the last name Freeman for lots of different escaping-slavery reasons, but it's possible that this specific reason is how Nile got her last name.

Dying in a war you know your country chose to instigate unnecessarily and that maybe you believe it shouldn't be waging is a very particular kind of trauma. It is a much deeper trauma when your military service, and your father's, and maybe generations of your ancestors', is a source of pride and access to resources for you but your sacrifice is nearly meaningless to the white supremacist system that deploys you. That kind of cognitive dissonance encourages a person to ignore their own feelings just so they can function. How do you wake up in the morning, how do you risk your life every day, how do you *kill other people* in a war that shouldn't be happening and that you shouldn't have to serve in just so that your country sees you as human?

We see Nile do her best to be a kind and well-mannered invader. Depending on your experience with US imperialism, Nile giving candy to kids and reminding her squad to be respectful is either heartwarming or very disturbing propaganda. We also see Nile clutching her cross necklace and praying. From the second Christianity arrived on this land it's been a tool of white supremacist assimilation and control, but like military service, it's a fucked-up but genuine source of pride and access to resources for many Americans whose pre-Columbian ancestors were not Christian, and it's a powerful source of comfort and resilience. This Jew who's had a lot of Spanish Inquisition nightmares would like to say for the record that it's not Jesus's fault that his big name fans are such shitty people.

Nile is a good person trying to do her best in a fucked-up world. "Her best" just radically changed. Her access to information on just how fucked up the world is has also just radically changed, because everything's so fucked up a person needs a lot of time to learn about it all and not only does she have centuries but she won't have to spend that time worrying about rent and healthcare and taxes, and because she now has Joe and Nicky and Andy's stories, and because she now has Copley's inside scoop on just what the fuck the CIA has been up to. Like, I want a fic where Copley tells Nile what was really behind the brass's decisions that led to her experiences on the ground in Afghanistan, that led to her father's death, but also I Do Not Want That.

Nile was 19 when Alicia Garza posted on Facebook that Black Lives Matter. She grew up in Chicago well before white people on Twitter were saying maybe police violence against Black people is a problem. She knows this is a deeply fucked up country, and she put on her Marine uniform and deployed with her team of mostly fellow women of color, and maybe she and Dizzy and Jay marched in the streets between deployments, maybe they texted each other when a white manarchist at a protest sneered at one of them for being a Marine. Nile's been busy surviving, and she knows some shit and she's seen some shit but she hasn't had much time to think about what it all means. Now she's got time. And Joe, Nicky, and Andy are willing to listen. (Is Copley willing to listen? I could see that going either way.)

Booker might also be willing to listen. The brilliant idea of cleaning up the rat Frenchman so that Nile can have millennia of emotional support and orgasms sent me down a Wikipedia rabbit hole, and holy shit do Booker and Nile have a lot of shared life experience as pawns of imperial wars. Obviously Booker is white and a man and that makes a very big difference. (Though G-d help me, Booker could be Jewish and France was knocking its Jews around like ping-pong balls in the 18th-19th centuries. Jewish Booker wouldn't make him any less white but it does add a shit ton of depth of common experience: military service as a way for your country to see you as a full member of society who matters, because who you are means that's not guaranteed.)

Booker was hanged for desertion from the army Napoleon sent to invade Russia as part of his quest to control all of Europe. We learn in the comics / this YouTube video that Booker was on his way to prison for forgery when he was offered military service instead of jail time. While we don't know how he felt about the choice beyond that he did choose soldier over inmate, it's unlikely he thought invading Russia was a great idea, given he tried to desert because Napoleon like a true imperialist dumbass didn't plan for how he was going to feed his army or keep them from freezing to death in fucking Russian winter.

I find it very interesting that the French Empire was at its largest right before invading Russia and fell apart completely within a few years. My country has been falling the fuck apart for a while now - see aforementioned War on Terror, growing extremes of economic stratification in the richest country in the world, abject refusal to meaningfully deal with climate change that US-based corporations hold the lion's share of blame for - but between Trump's abject refusal to meaningfully deal with the coronavirus and strong likelihood that he'll refuse to leave office even if a certain pathetic moderate I will hold my nose and vote for does manage to earn a majority of votes, ~y~i~k~e~s.

Our only immortals who have never known a world before modernity and nationalism happen to have been born of wars that were the beginning of the end for the imperialist democracies that raised them, and I think in the centuries to come that's going to give them some very interesting shit to talk about.

Nile's a Young Millennial, a digital native born in the United States after the collapse of the USSR left her country as the world's only superpower. She's used to a pace of technological change that human brains are not evolved to handle.

Napoleon trying to make all of Europe into the French Empire was a leading cause of the growth of European nationalism and the establishment of liberal democracies both in Europe and in many places that Europeans had colonized. Booker's first war produced the only geopolitical world order Nile has ever known and I just have so many feelings ok. Nile the art history nerd is probably not aware of this, and why would she be? This humble meta author is, like Nile, a product of US public schools, and all they taught me about world history was Ancient Greece/Rome/Egypt/Mesopotamia and then World War 2. Being raised in The World's Only Superpower is WEIRD.

Nile the Young Millennial is used to the devastating volume of bad news the internet makes possible. But she has absolutely no concept of a world where the United States of America is not The World's Only Superpower. In order to get up in the morning and put on her gear and point guns at civilians in Afghanistan, she can only let herself think so much about whether that American exceptionalism thing is a good idea.

She's about to spend many, many years where the only people who she can truly trust are people who are older than not only her country but the IDEA of countries.

She's got time, and she's got a lot of new information at her disposal. But there comes a point where my obsession with her friendship and eventual very hot sex life with Booker just isn't about sex at all. Nile needs someone to talk to about the United States who Gets It. Booker the rat Frenchman coerced into Napoleon's army, and Copley the Black dual citizen of the US and UK who's retired from a CIA career that he half understands as deeply problematic but half still believes in hence his mind-bogglingly stupid partnership with Merrick, are the only people on the planet Nile can talk to honestly about, and really be understood in, all the thoughts and feelings and fears and hopes of her experience as a US Marine.

And one more thing before I go get ready for Rosh Hashanah: Orientalism was a defining element of the Crusades and that legacy is painfully clear in current US-led Western military activity in Afghanistan, Syria, Israel/Palestine, you name it. Turns out memoirs by French veterans of the Napoleonic Wars are full of Orientalist language about Russia as well. I am maybe/definitely writing a fic where Booker spends his exile reading critical race theory and decolonial feminism and trauma studies monographs because he can't be honest with a therapist but maybe he can heal this way and become the team therapist his own damn self. I just really need him to read Edward Said and Gloria Anzaldúa and then go down on Nile, ok?

#nile freeman #tog meta #book of nile #sebastien le livre #the old guard #mine #us imperialism #european imperialism #jewish things #antiblackness #police violence #orientalism

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pika-ace · 3 years

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I FINALLY SAW THE IN THE HEIGHTS MOVIE

HOLY SHIT

HOLY FUCKING SHIT I JUST WITNESSED MANNA FROM THE FUCKING GODS

My skin is clear, my children are fed, and my crops are thriving and I have SO MUCH TO SAY ABOUT IT

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT! Seriously, do not read if you want to see the movie, I want you to experience this emotional ride yourselves

- I don't really need to talk about the music because, as expected, it was top-notch. Everyone was great, great voices, god-tier dancing, just good shit all around

- Songs are cut and things are changed, but honestly, NOTHING was lost so there's no need to worry. For every story element they take away, they add SO MUCH MORE with the changes they made to make up for it. It's like ITH for the first time all over again :D

- First up, Usnavi. MY GOD ANTHONY RAMOS, I AM SO SORRY I'VE BEEN SLEEPING ON YOU FOR SO LONG! I never paid him any mind back in the day because his face was just plastered all over Lams stuff (UGGGGH) so seeing him doing his own thing SEPARATE from that? I WAS ONCE BLIND BUT NOW I SEE

- The whole beach story-telling thing was throwing me off the whole time. I remember how PETRIFIED everyone was when the trailers showed that, but I had faith that there was a point to it and I WAS RIGHT!! The SECOND Sonny pointed out that green crab he painted, it was like a slap in the face, and when Usnavi started his whole 'There goes my flight' part, my cousin and I silently fist pumped in pure joy

- Also, USNAVI👏AND👏VANESSA👏AS👏MARRIED👏BUSINESS👏PARTNERS👏FUCKING👏ALL👏MY👏YES (Why did none of us think of this before????)

- USNAVI AND VANESSA GETTING A CANONICAL DAUGHTER, FUCKING YES PLEASE, PUT THAT HAT ON HER HEAD

- Next, Nina. Just...OH her voice...so soft...so gentle...I could fall asleep to that shit...

- The extra details of her being discriminated against at Stanford, just...DAMN, that shit HURTED. Best Girl doesn't deserve that shit!!!

- And her deciding to go back after learned that Sonny wants to be like her but can't due to discrimination just...BEST GIRL

- Benny just...OOZED charm, man. It almost makes me sad that he and Nina didn't play as big a role in the movie as they did in the play compared to Usnavi and Vanessa. ALMOST.

- Speaking of, Vanessa got an expanded role, HELL TO THE FUCKING YES. (She got a last name change from Otilla Garcia to Morales, but hey, her last name was just a workshop thing anyway so it's JUST not-canon enough to make changing it acceptable)

- Vanessa being the one who decided on the mural thing and getting Pete and Sonny to help just...BEAUTIFUL. That's TRUE LOVE right there

- Lin as Piragua Guy and Chris Jackson as Mr. Softee; that was the funniest meta shit I've EVER seen.

- I?? Did not expect?? To come out of this LOVING Kevin Rosario??? Like, he was SO MUCH BETTER and less antagonistic??? And I LOVED IT??

- Seriously though, getting rid of his prejudice against Benny was THE MOST WELCOME CHANGE in this whole movie (to me at least). When those two were together in the dispatch during the Blackout and helping people, that was just *chef's kiss* That was the pseudo-father-son shit I have been CRAVING for those two!

- Blackout was much less scary and chaotic than we were led to believe in the stage play; a part of me was disappointed, but the way they made it with everyone taking it in stride made up for it. It was like 'Aw dammit, blackout! Welp, bust out the fireworks and the Bingo boards, we're gonna be in the dark for a while, you all know the drill.'

- Also, lights turning back on RIGHT after Carnival del Barrio? Nice touch 👌

- Pete was SO GOOD. Favorite scene:

Usnavi, with Sonny: You're out here; who's watching the store? *points to Pete who's booking it out of the store having stolen something*

Sonny: *runs after him* PETE NO, YOU CAN'T JUST DO THAT!!!

- Age gap still seems a bit ambiguous between Sonny and Pete, so until confirmation is given, this pairing is staying EXPLICITLY in the stage version tag on Ao3 XD

- PETE PROVIDING VANESSA WITH INSPIRATIONAL MATERIALS, THAT IS A FACET OF FRIENDSHIP I NEVER KNEW I WANTED

- Also, appreciate Usnavi being MUCH less antagonistic towards Pete, just treating him as an annoying kid that enjoys getting a rise out of him rather than a vandal that's a bad influence who Usnavi WILL call the cops on if pushed.

- Daniela and Carla were REALLY awesome together and I'm DOWN for them being a couple, even though Hollywood STILL decided to be cowards about it with no on-screen kiss or mention that they were girlfriends (come on guys, it's 2021, stop hiding the gays!!)

- Abuela. ABUELAAAAAAAA. NEED I SAY MORE????

Usnavi: I wanna take you and Sonny to DR

Abuela: I'm not leaving without Sonny

Me: MY QUEEN, YEEEEES

- When I saw her lying down during Blackout and staring at Usnavi and Sonny and then started transitioning into Paciencia y Fe, my writer brain IMMEDIATELY began putting those metaphor pieces together and was like 'No...no no no no NO, don't you do this to me, DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE DO THIS TO ME-'

- Alabanza had me sobbing; no comment.

- The lotto money twist was SO GOOD??? Like, my cousin and I were VERY concerned when it wasn't brought up AT ALL, but then when it turns out she saved the ticket to give to Usnavi as a final gift after her death just...TEARS EVERYWHERE

- And last but not least...Sonny. Sonny Sonny Sonny Sonny SONNYYYYYYYYYYY! My son, my child, the light of my life, the stars in my sky, was given justice on this day!!!

- HE HAS A DAD!! IT'S A SHITTY DAD BUT HE HAS A PLACE TO LIVE!!! IT'S BETTER THAN WHAT WE HAD BEFORE AND I THANK BASED LMM FOR GIVING MY BOY THE BACKSTORY HE DESERVED!! (Fanfic writers, I expect MOUNTAINS of angst and hurt/comfort from you all with this new material!)

- RIP Smol Sonny, but that baby face of his MORE than made up for it :3c

- Usnavi WANTING to take Sonny to DR right off the bat, just...THANK YOU. That was DESPERATELY NEEDED and was even wrapped up early and neatly with Sonny saying to Usnavi 'Nah, I grew up here in NY, I have no memories of DR but YOU do, so if you wanna go, then go, I like it here.' and since he HAS A FUCKING HOME here, the worry for his well-being is GONE and it feels GOOD.

- Learning Sonny was undocumented was a PUNCH IN THE FUCKING HEART! My mind IMMEDIATELY reminded me when his dad asked Usnavi why he only paid Sonny in cash and the FACE HE MADE when Nina said that undocumented kids can't get in college just BABY NOOOOOOOOOO

- Usnavi. Using. The goddamn lotto money. TO GET SONNY DOCUMENTED. MY DE LA VEGA COUSIN LOVING HEART HAS FUCKING ASCENDED AND IS NEVER COMING BACK DOWN. DADNAVI SUPREMACY.

Do I have ANY gripes with this movie? Yes, I do.

THEY FUCKING KILLED CAMILA. I DO NOT APPRECIATE BEST MOM GETTING THE DISNEY TREATMENT, THANK YOU VERY MUCH >:/

Other than that though, this movie is a 10/10, go see it. Right now. I mean it.

#in the heights movie #in the heights 2021 #sonny de la vega #usnavi de la vega #in the heights

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andmyvape · 3 years

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"Please tell me you're not wearing that."

Elayn looked down, then back up with a wide grin. She tugged at her bright rainbow suspenders with her thumbs. "What, not tacky enough?"

Serana gave the ensemble another slow scan. "No, it's… definitely tacky. The combat boots with the khaki shorts is a nice touch."

The grin got wider as she stuffed her hands into her pockets. "They're going to be throwing candy, and I wasn't anywhere near prepared enough last time."

Serana rolled her eyes, but softened it with a smile. "You're ridiculous."

"Isn't that why we're dating?" her girlfriend asked as they headed out the door.

She took a moment to lock up while Serana laughed. "'Careless Whisper' on a boom box outside my window. I can't believe my dad didn't kill you. I know you stole that, by the way. We both went to see that movie when it came out."

"They marketed it as a romcom!" Elayn protested.

They were in the car now. It would be a trick to find parking, but they were running early thanks to Serana's habit of scheduling everything. Elayn was more the type to go with the flow, but living together had her adapted enough that the flow she went with was largely dictated by Serana's schedule. As a research chemist, she worked interesting hours at times, but Elayn was a good roommate, she cooked and cleaned, mostly because she had the time. Lacrosse wasn't a well paying sport compared to something like soccer, but the off seasons gave her plenty of time to maintain their loft.

"Five dollars an hour?" Elayn griped as the machine printed out their ticket.

"Homophobia strikes again," Serana said with mock solemnity.

She snorted and wrapped an arm around her girlfriend's waste. "Which park did you say this thing started in again?"

It was a little place surrounded by tall buildings, but it was a green patch in a city largely made out of grey. It being Pride Month, the grey was broken up by rainbows. The two wandered around as they waited for the parade to start.

Well, at least, they started to wander when Elayn caught sight of a dog and all but dragged her girlfriend over to say hi.

"What's his name?" she asked, so full of enthusiasm she practically floated. "Can I pet him?"

The dog's owner, someone with a short haircut in a crop top that was orange, yellow, and white striped, nodded. "If he lets you. Sometimes he's not so-- oh gosh," they said, eyes wide as they watched Elayn kneel down and offer a hand to sniff that was immediately accepted. "You must have good vibes."

"She's a dog person," Serana said with a laugh as the dog put its front paws on Elayn's shoulders so he could lick her face.

"What's his name?" she asked through slobbery kisses.

The butch grinned. "That's Duke, I'm Cas. It's nice to meet you!"

The two introduced themselves just in time for a volunteer to come up with bottles of water. "Our city got voted best water in the state," she said cheerfully. "Take a few, it's gonna be a hot one."

Before the march, there were speeches. The first was an introduction to the city's first pride parade since the 80s. The second was from a drag queen inviting everyone to the show later that night. Finally, the speeches were closed by an Episcopalian pastor trying to make up for the rest of Christianity's sins.

"It's starting!" Elayn said excitedly when the crowd started to funnel out of the park.

The march went down the sidewalk for a few blocks. Traffic was halted and the waiting cars honked while passengers waved. Elayn waved a lesbian flag, Serana had a bi flag, and the two of them dragged a rainbow striped cooler.

"Mom! Mom!" Elayn heard behind her. "Look, it's two cicadas going at it!"

She glanced behind her. There was a set of twins, about twelve years old, one of them draped in a trans flag and holding the cicadas that were indeed trying to reproduce. Elayn snorted and hit herself in the face trying to keep a laugh contained. "You like bugs, huh?"

The girl in the trans flag beamed. "They're my favorite! Well, except for tarantulas, but Mom won't let me have one."

"The rabbit gets out of its cage enough." The way the girl's mom said it, this was an age old argument. "I don't want to squash it when it ends up in my shoe."

"I had a snake when I was growing up," Serana chimed in. "A corn snake that never got out."

The twins turned out to be part of a family unit. One twin was trans, and their older brother was too, and as Elayn found soon, was very excited to start HRT. "Get a Gc2b binder," she said. "When I'm feeling like a flat day, it works really well."

The boy, a younger fourteen, practically floated with excitement. "I will!"

Serana chatted with the parents while Elayn occupied the kids. "Have you folks been to Pride before?"

Their mom, a woman named Chelsea, shook her head. "Nope, both kids came out last September and they've been talking about the festival ever since."

"You seem like really supportive parents," Serana said. It carried the weight of one speaking who has not had contact with their parents since high school.

Chelsea could tell, and she opened her arms for a hug that Serana was more than happy to accept.

The march was only about a mile long, and it ended in another park. Elayn craned her neck and said, "I think I see the beer line, wait here?"

"We will!" said the girl, who was very proud to be named Luna now.

Serana and Chelsea shared a grin. "I guess we'll wait here," the mom said.

It was a bit of a line, which was probably not a good thing, but apparently people were restricted on how many drinks they could buy, so at least there was that. While Elayn waited, she was joined by two people wearing pronoun pins that said "she/her".

Elayn's jaw dropped at the sight of one of the girls' dress, which was a flowing, fae like ensemble. "Holy shit!" she said. "You look amazing!"

She blushed and ducked her head as she smiled. "Thank you, I got it from Amazon."

"It's her first Pride," her friend added.

That just amazed Elayn more. "With the sparkles and the green eyeshadow, I wouldn't have guessed. Everything you've got going on is just amazing."

"Thank you!" she squeaked.

Elayn wasn't alone in thinking the dress was gorgeous. Another person came up to compliment it, and they had such dope tattoos that Elayn could not help but comment.

"The guy that did them is great," they gushed. "He does blacklight work too!"

So she got a website saved on her phone for the next time she really wanted to get a tattoo on top of the three she already had; scrollwork on her bicep, a wolf on her shoulder blade, and a small date on her wrist that was the day she met Serana.

When she got back to her girlfriend and the others, an IPA in hand that was frankly piss, she told them about the girl in the fae dress.

"I saw her!" Serana exclaimed.

"Amazon."

"No way."

Next was food, especially if she was going to drink a beer. Assuming she actually drank it. "There's some food trucks," she pointed out. "I could go for a corndog."

"I'm going to get some mac and cheese," Serana said.

"Mom! Mom!" Luna's twin brother, Ian, tugged at his mom's sleeve. "Can we get pretzels?"

Chelsea sighed good-naturedly. "I suppose. Do you two want to meet up after?"

"Over by the stage?" Elayn suggested.

The group separated. She found the line for corndogs and funnel cake. While she was waiting, the woman ahead of her glanced her way, so Elayn said, "Howdy!"

"Hey there, hun!" She clapped her on the shoulder. "Having a good time?"

"I am," she said with a grin. "Everyone here is so nice. There were some moms back there handing out hugs!"

"Well, I'm a mom, would you like a hug?"

"I would love that."

It was a lovely hug, the woman was warm and smelled floral. When they separated, she said, "I'm Elayn! It's good to meet you. Can I get you a corndog?"

As she pulled out her wallet, the woman waved her money away. "It's Nessa, and actually, I'd like to buy you a corndog."

"You don't have to--"

Nessa laughed. "I miss my daughters, you'd be doing me a favor."

They chatted while the line went down, about lacrosse and about university. It turned out Nessa's two daughters went off to college in other cities, so it had been a while since she saw either. "I had a son," she said. "But now I have a very happy daughter, and I'm so proud of her."

"I wish I had a mom like you," Elayn said, thinking about growing up foster care.

Nessa grabbed her in another hug. "Now you do!"

When she got back to Serana and the others, they were listening to the music booming from the speakers. She had to yell to tell the group about her new mom.

Chelsea looked a little sad, because she could connect the dots, but Luna and Ian were too busy freaking out over the cotton candy Nessa had bought her too.

Not long after, the stage was occupied. Elayn was chatting with Luna with her back turned, so she missed it until Serana tapped her shoulder and turned her around.

"Holy shit!" She hollered and clapped at the sight of a gorgeous, sequin clad drag queen in four inch heels doing a backflip off the stage and onto grass. "Holy shit!"

As it turned out, the drag queens took tips, and it was at that point that Elayn knew she was about to spend a lot of money. Each queen that performed, and there were many, got a five in exchange for the sheer joy Elayn got when the queen before her touched her hand.

When there was a break in the performances, she went back to Serana, who had a smirk on her face. "Should I be jealous?"

Elayn cupped her face, and in a fit of sheer enthusiasm, kissed her girlfriend soundly, to the delight of the twins who hooted. "Don't worry, babe," she teased. "You're the only queen for me."

"Flatterer." Serana swatted at her chest, but the smile on her face was pleased regardless.

It was all a blur from there. Fair food, loud music-- and Elayn found beer that wasn't piss! She taught the twins a new vocabulary of cuss words the moment she found out their mom was fine with foul language. They parted around five in the afternoon, when a voice through a megaphone warned attendants that the festival was about to start catering to adults. There was a concert with more drag queens, this time in much more risqué outfits that Elayn would have given a kidney to see on Serana.

When she said something, her girlfriend got a light in her eye. "Really now?" she purred. "Maybe for your birthday."

By 11pm, Elayn was high on the party atmosphere and a few beers. The festival was over, and the walk back to their car would be a trick. "Did you have fun?" she asked Serana as they walked hand in hand.

She got a kiss on the cheek. "I'm so glad I have you. When are we getting married?"

"When I figure out how to surprise you with a ring."

#skyrim fanfiction #Modern AU #pride 2021 #Femslash #dragonborn #serana #Whoever gets the reference gets a cookie and to feel superior

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donutloverxo · 4 years

Text

Nude

Run through - Steve wants to try new things so he takes a painting class with a nude painting subject. Only the woman he has to paint are you, Peppers assistant and his crush.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 2k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

Steve Rogers was many things. He was an artist, an amateur cook (who really does try), a loyal friend, a good citizen, a soldier. Yet when people looked at him, they only ever saw the captain. His friends called him cap. He'd go weeks without hearing his own name. Sometimes he felt the lines were blurred. When did Steve Rogers end and Captain America begin?

He had a big wake up call when he confronted Tony, saying he wasn’t iron man, it was an alter ego. To which Tony said that Steve was basically captain America. And Steve couldn’t argue or disagree, because it was true. He didn’t want to lose himself in his work anymore than he already had. His therapist told him to make healthy boundaries, which is what he’s going to do.

So he ordered some colors and pencils online and got to work on his art, for the first time in a long time. It was exhilarating and freeing. He could lose himself in it, go on for hours without thinking and seeing anything but the colors and his canvas. Which was extremely rare for him. He could rarely ever shut his brain off or run from his traumatic memories.

Everyone could see the visible change in him. How he seemed happier. Clint even joked about it saying

“Cap must be getting some”

To which Steve only snorted. There was no room for anything as complicated as a relationship or sex in his life, not right now.

But wouldn’t it be nice? To have a woman to hold and to paint. To love and care for. He didn’t let himself delve too much into that fantasy. Because even if it was a nice escape once in a while, he knew that while Steve Rogers might make a good partner, Captain America would certainly not. He would never subject any woman to deal with either of them.

With some encouragement from Sam and his old friends he started attending painting classes at his alma mater, the Brooklyn College, every Saturday evening. It helped him make some friends. He didn’t know if he could call them friends. Most of them were too different from him. They seemed like different types of 'tortured artists'

When he heard that there would be a nude subject to paint the next class, he was a little bit hesitant. Such a thing would’ve been scandalous in the 40s. But he was trying to open himself up and that meant pushing his comfort zone, even just a little bit.

When he set up his canvas, oil colors and brushes that Saturday he expected male subject. He didn’t however expect to hear a woman’s voice. He was too focused on his set up to look up, whatever. He didn’t care if it was a man or a woman. There wouldn't be anything erotic about it. This was strictly professional and educational.

He looked up to take a good look at his subject, when he felt as if his soul was knocked out of him. There you stood, his crush, Pepper Potts' assistant, and the woman who turned him down.

“You know back in my day they used to play elevator music” He said to drown out the awkward silence. Even after all this time, he still didn’t know how to talk to women. He had had a crush on you since the moment he laid eyes on you. You were always so funny and sweet. Asking him and everyone about their day, if they were doing well. Always willing to help others.

When he let it slip that he likes banana bread, you baked him a whole loaf of it, which chocolate chips so ‘so you think of me when you have them. They’re my signature of sorts' you had said proudly. Of course he’d be thinking of you when he ate it. Overthinking actually. Wondering If you like him as he likes you, or if you’re just being your sweet self.

“Oh we still have that!” You chirped “but not in um professional or business buildings like these”

He just nodded. Tapping his foot impatiently. You would get off in just six floors it was now or never. “Hey uh – what are you doing this Friday?” he asked shyly.

“Oh just watching some Gordon Ramsay with my dog probably. I have no life” you laughed at your own self depreciating joke “Why?” you tilted your head.

“I was thinking, maybe we could get dinner? Only if you uh – you wanted to, you're free to say no” he promised. Maybe he should’ve asked you to ‘hang out' or 'for a coffee' like most people these days. But he felt that was no way to treat a lady, especially one like you.

“Oh Steve” he was already disappointed upon hearing your tone “I would’ve loved to. But even though we don’t work together, it wouldn’t look good you know? I mean I don’t care much for 'my image'” You said making air quotes “But I don’t, it’ll be complicated” You looked completely defeated. As if it hurt you to say no more than it hurt him to hear it.

“I completely understand” He nodded “no hard feelings” he gave you a smile as he watched you walk away. It did break his heart a bit, but he’d respect your feelings.

He looked at you taking off your satin robe revealing your bare body to the class of twenty or so artists. His breathe hitched. Your hair flowing down your back and covering a bit of your left breast, your soft stomach and thighs, the patch of soft curls at your core, your nipples hard against the chilly air, and how your stomach rolled a bit as you sat uncomfortably on the stool. You were beautiful. A work of art even. There was absolutely no way he could do you justice. He started drawing an outline on his canvas. You would very well be his best subject.

You looked around a bit, your fingers holding onto the stool for dear life so you could stave off the anxiety and feeling of being so exposed. Then your eyes landed on him. You thought you were dreaming, maybe you didn’t see properly, so you did a double take. Then you were frozen on the spot. There he was, Captain Rogers, the first Avenger, the man you often dreamt about, sitting right in front of you while you were naked as the day you were born.

You had no idea what you should do. This was literally like a nightmare come true. If you flee it would look bad, if you didn’t it might look worse. You decided you’d follow his lead. So you peeked a glance at him from the corner of your eyes and saw him, sketching you? Holy shit Steve Rogers was drawing a nude portrait of you. What has your life become?

You had always been insecure about your body. You knew magazines, porn and movies were meant to feed people lies to get them to buy more things. That didn’t make you feel any less bad about not looking anything like the women in them. You tried to remind yourself that you have many things going for you. Like your supporting family, your loving friends, your cute labrador, your amazing job.

Speaking of your job, exactly why you turned Steve freaking Rogers down! A man that looks like him asking you out and you say no. Your friends flat out laughed in your face at your unfortunate predicament, where the cake is right there but you can't eat it. Now that you thought about it, it was funny.

Your co-workers weren’t kind to you. Even on your best day you didn’t look anything like the women you worked with, who would stab you in the back the first chance the get. You were kind to everyone, but you knew by now not to expect the same treatment back. Which was why you had to say no to the beefy blonde. You didn’t want to be branded as the ‘office slut’.

Which now you were sure you would be. You didn’t know Steve enough to know he’d be willing to keep this a secret. He didn’t seem like someone who would do that to you. But you still couldn’t help but think the worst.

You squirmed and shivered in the chair for a good part of the next two hours. By the end your back was sore and you did everything you could to avoid looking at Steve, only sneaking glances here and there, while he seemed too engrossed in his work.

You had done this a couple of times before, to accept your body for what it is and get comfortable with it. If you weren’t going to love it no one would do it for you. Finally the time was up and the artists were asked to pack up for the day.

You quickly got up from your stool putting the robe back on. You turned your back to Steve, stretching your muscles. You couldn’t wait to lay down on your comfy bed and just get out of here. But you knew you needed to have that inevitable conversation. You probably would never be able to look Steve in the eye after this.

You walked towards him as he was cleaning up his work station. “Fancy seeing you here” You cringed at your embarrassing attempt at a British accent.

“Hey there” He gave you a bashful smile scratching the back of his head “I didn’t expect to see you here”

“Right back at ya” you returned his smile, no longer feeling on edge. It was strange how his presence served to comfort you.

“You do this often” he asked casually. You couldn’t really hear any judgement in his tone, not what you would expect from a hundred year old.

“No not really. It just uh – I’m trying to love myself. Which I already do! Of course” you let out a nervous chuckle “just trying new things and stepping out of my comfort zone”

“That makes two of us” he said as he was done packing his bag, which he was deliberately doing at a slow pace. He didn’t want to leave. Not yet.

“Can I... Look at your painting?” You asked nervously. You didn’t know if you wanted to see his interpretation of your naked body, what if it was bad? But what if it was good? What if he was impressed by you...

“Uh it’s not done yet. And frankly I’m not that good”

“I seriously doubt that. I’ve seen the sketches in your office” You caught your slip of tongue. You couldn’t let him know about your borderline unhealthy obsession with him.

“Well, have a look then” he relented showing you his canvas.

You let out a breathe you didn’t even know you were holding at the painting. It was breath-taking. The woman looked like you, but why was she so beautiful and graceful? In the painting she was sitting on a stool, like you, in front of a tree admiring a rose in her hand. She was naked as well. It reminded you of classic Greek paintings where women weren’t perfect, but were celebrated for their imperfections.

“It’s amazing Steve. I – do I look like that?” You stammered not being able to tear your eyes off the painting.

He shook his head at your shock “On the contrary you look much better I’m glad you like it”

“You’re a great artist” you gushed

“I don’t know about that. I’ve seen much better” he said humbly.

You would argue with him. But you knew it would be of no use. Looking at the beautiful woman in the painting gave you the surge of confidence you needed “Steve, does the offer for that dinner still stand?” You straightened your back looking up to lock eyes with him.

“Yes” He blurted without even thinking “how about tomorrow evening?” He asked.

“Yes that will be awesome! You can pick me up at seven. I’ll text you the address“ you said making an mental note to do so.

You could hardly wait for your date. You didn’t really care about what your co-workers would think of you. As long as you were happy their opinions didn’t matter.

Tags will be in the reblog! If you want in on the taglist click the link in the bio or send me an ask!

Please do not steal or repost my works. Reblogs are welcome.

This was actually a request. But I can't fir the life of me find the person who requested it. I hope you see it babes❤

#steve rogers x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #captain america x you #captain america x reader #steve x reader #steve Rogers x you #avengers x y/n #avengers x you #avengers x reader #marvel x reader

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iliumheightnights · 4 years

Text

The children are our future? | Peter Parker x Male Reader

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Peter Parker x Male!Stark Reader

Summary: (M/N) goes to surprise Peter and pick him up from school. While there a student tries to befriend him and (M/N) may or may not have lost his temper after realizing who it was.

A/N: I’ve been reading loads of fics about Peter and the field trip trope and like...maybe that’s coming… ;)

…

Peter tapped his pencil against the desktop repeatedly. It was obvious the school day was dragging on and he was ready to get out of there. He always wanted to get out of school early but even more so since he was supposed to be working with Tony in the lab today. Of course that would happen AFTER he saw his boyfriend, he always came first.

Peter was brought out of his boredom when he felt his spidey senses going off and no soon after something hit his head. It didn’t hurt and when he looked it was just a crumpled up piece of paper. He shouldn’t pick up that paper, everything in his body said to just ignore it. So he did, he ignored it. Then after a little bit another one hit him. Then another. Then another. He could tell it was Flash trying to mess with him and as much as he hated saying it, it was working. With one last paper ball Peter had enough.”WHAT!?” He glared at the boy who was only smirking at him. “MR.PARKER! What is going on?!” Peter felt his stomach drop. Oh he was in trouble. “I...I was-” “See me after class!” The whole class snickered and Flash smirked at him. Peter hated it here.

Peter stayed after class to get a talking to by the teacher. He was angry to say the least, Flash never got in trouble or anything. It should be him here not Peter. The teacher was going on about respect and not causing trouble, Peter really wasn’t listening if he was being honest. After the rant Peter left the class to be greeted by Ned. “Hey, figured I’d wait for you. How’d it go in there?” Peter shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing important. Just another person who won’t deal with Flash.” Ned nudged him. “At least you didn’t get like, detention or anything. We can deal with Flash another day.” Peter and Ned exited the front door of the school and heard whispers and talk. “Is that (M/N) Stark?” “What’s HE doing here?” Peter looked up and gulped. There he was, his boyfriend...looking absolutely annoyed with a starstruck Flash talking to him. “Or he’s gonna deal with him.”

…

(M/N) Stark leaned against the passenger side of the car. He was there on a mission, Peter had been acting strange for the past week and it was worrying him. He was so worried he got in contact with Ned, who after several minutes of questions, told him about Peter’s bully Flash. (M/N) would have dealt with it sooner had he any name other than a Fake name to go off of. He could have asked Ned but (M/N) had a better idea.

Before Happy could even reach his car, the poor man was intercepted by (M/N). “Sup Happy. You out to get Peter? Well belay that order, I’m picking him up today. Go out and get yourself some lunch you deserve it.” Happy didn’t know what was happening but he watched as (M/N) got into one of Tony’s sports cars and drove out of the parking garage. That’s how he found himself outside of Midtown High.

(M/N) was scrolling on his phone waiting for his boyfriend to arrive. The school bell rang and students started walking out. He could hear people talking about him and it made him smirk. “Holy shit! You’re (M/N) Stark!” (M/N) looked up to see a boy who looked like he was about to faint. “That’s me.” He didn’t say anything else as he returned to his phone. “What are you doing here? Never mind. You have a really cool car! I got a sick ride too! I can show it to ya if you want! Oh! Can I get a photo?” (M/N) let out a sigh. He didn’t want to be rude, but frankly this kid was getting on his nerves. “What’s your name kid?” “Eugene, Eugene Thompson. But you can call me-” He stopped as Peter and Ned came walking up. (M/N) smiled at his boyfriend who was smiling back at him. “Hey.” Peter said but was interrupted by Flash. “Hey Penis! Can’t you see the two of us are talking? Trying to make it seem like that Stark internship is a real thing?” Peter glanced to his boyfriend who was still smiling, but his eyes held the intent to murder. “I bet (M/N) here would just LOVE to hear about it. A loser like you wouldn’t even be able to go through the front doors!” Peter smirked at Flash.

(M/N) started typing into his phone, still smiling. “You know what EUGENE. I would LOVE to hear about it. Why can’t Peter here walk through the front doors when he is one of the best interns my father has ever had?” Flash looked shocked while Peter was smirking, Ned looking somewhat lost and happy. (M/N) was still typing on his phone. “Also I should point out that the very boy you are insulting and calling penis is actually my boyfriend and if you know anything about me...I don’t take kindly to people who hurt the people that I love. And....done.” (M/N) looked back up from his phone to Flash. “You have now been blacklisted from every ivy league college on the eastern seaboard. You’re welcome. You’ll be lucky if even a community college accepts you here.”(M/N) held up his phone and took a photo of Flash’s red face. “What!? Y-You can’t do that!” (M/N) smirked. “I can. You know why? I’m (M/N) fucking Stark and you fucked with my boyfriend. You’re lucky that being blacklisted was all I did.” He stepped closer to the boy and tightly gripped his shoulder. “Because if I wasn’t so good about controlling my anger.” He let some of his powers slip through to let his eyes light up. “You wouldn’t live to see graduation. Now get out of here and don’t let me hear about you messing with Peter, his friends, or anyone else again.” Flash looked like he was on the verge of tears but nodded and ran away. Before he could get too far (M/N) stopped him. “Oh and Eugene! This isn’t over, I’ll be watching.”

With everything that went down it was no surprise that most of the students were staring at them. Some shocked still from the Stark boy being at their school, others for what he just did to Flash. They weren’t sure what he could really do to them so no one dared say anything or take videos. Turning to a blushing Peter, (M/N) smiled brightly at him. “Hey babe.” Peter smiled and looked embarrassingly at his feet. “Did you really have to do that?” (M/N) smirked at his boyfriend and held onto his shoulders. “Of course I did. He was a dick to you and annoying me. He made his bed now he gets to lay in it.” Peter was about to say something else but his boyfriend cut him off by pressing his lips to Peter’s. The sound of gasps and whispers could be heard, but neither of them cared. Pulling apart (M/N) opened the passenger door. “Shall we go? I’m sure dad’s already working in the lab.” He turned to Ned who was looking shocked beyond belief but also smiling broadly. “Thanks again for your help Ned. Much appreciated.” Ned nodded. “Anytime. See ya later Peter. Bye (M/N)!”

Peter said his goodbye before sitting in the car. (M/N) got into the driver's seat and pulled away from the school. “Man...I really hate public school. You sure you don’t want dad to just...pull some strings and get you into M.I.T or something?” Peter chuckled at that and looked at him. “Yeah I’m sure, I’d miss Ned and MJ too much. Besides I have a feeling it’ll be alright now that you’ve dealt with Flash. Don’t think anyone else would want to get on your bad side.” (M/N) shook his head with a smile. “Good. They better not, otherwise I’ll come after them. I wonder if that twerps gonna go run to mommy and daddy. If he does...I’ll end them too.” Peter’s soft smile turned into a glare. “Don’t do anything that you’ll regret or that will be too...bad.” (M/N) huffed a laugh. “TOO BAD!? What are you five? Don’t worry it’s not like I’ll ruin their lives...just make it a little more difficult.” Peter put his face in his hands but smirked. “Sometimes I worry about you.”

“You love me.”

“Maybe TOO much.”

…

The rest of the drive had been pretty uneventful. Just small talk about what each other's day had been like. Peter had made sure to leave out the part about Flash getting him in trouble, if he told his boyfriend that he’d ruin his life even more than he already had. When they had arrived at the tower Peter wanted to do nothing more than to lay down with his boyfriend but Tony wanted his help in the lab.

“So I heard my son single handedly ruined a kid's life today.” Peter blushed at Tony’s words and focused on the project in front of him. “Ugh..k-kind of. I can try talking to him to undo it.” He heard Tony scoff. “Don’t you dare. That kid deserves it and plus...you honestly think we’d be able to get (M/N) to undo it?” Peter laughed along with Tony, at least he didn’t seem mad about it. “The question is kid...why didn’t you tell us? We would have done something a lot sooner and maybe less...intense.” Peter didn’t know what to say. He had wanted to tell them about everything but also didn’t want to at the same time. “Well, I DID want to tell you. I just...didn’t want to bother either of you. I just thought it was something I’d be able to deal with on my own. Figured it wasn’t that important.” Peter shrugged but felt Tony’s hand on his shoulder and he was soon facing his mentor/future father inlaw. “Peter. We both love you. Anything that deals with you is important to us. We want to make sure that you’re okay and living your best life. Asshats like that try and get off on pushing people around thinking they can get away with it. Now he won’t do it to you or anyone else again. Please, if something like this happens again tell us. We’re here for you.” Peter let out a sigh and felt tears building up in his eyes. “Thanks Mr.Stark.” Tony pulled him into a hug. “Anytime underoos. Now...Put away your tools and stuff. I’m sure my kid’s anxiously waiting for you upstairs.” Peter pulled back from the hug and began putting everything away. Tony going back to his own project. Peter was heading out of the lab when Tony called out again. “Also if you two get heated just make sure to wear protection!” Peter blushed. “Mr-Mr.Stark!” Tony waved him off. “Kidding! Kidding! Now go on!”

Peter walked to the common room where (M/N) was laying on the couch watching tv, when he saw Peter he smiled. “Hey. You’re done early.” Peter walked over and sat beside him. “Yeah. Your dad let me out.” Peter leaned his head on his boyfriends shoulder as the others arm pulled him closer. “Doesn’t sound like my dad. Maybe he’s an imposter.” Peter rolled his eyes and sighed. “Did you really black list him from every college?” (M/N) scoffed. “Peter I’m not that cruel. I believe people can have redemption. But I DID block him from the good ones on the eastern side of the us. He can still go to community colleges or to good schools on the other side of the country. It’s not like he’s out of options.” Seeing his boyfriend's face he sighed. “Ugh. If you feel that’s too harsh I’ll undo it. But I think it’s the push he needed to understand.” Peter smiled at him. “I love you.” (M/N)’s breath hitched. “What? I mean I love you too but...how did that come about?” Peter blushed and kissed his cheek. “Because even though he was incredibly rude to me you still were willing to undo it for me. Which I don’t want you to. He’s rich, or at least well off, I’m sure he’ll be able to go across the country. And you’re right, he needs to learn...plus maybe I’m a little salty about the years of bullying he’s done.”

(M/N) leaned in, smiling at Peter. He cupped his face in his hands. “Honey. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I gotta say you’ve pretty much ruined me.” The two boys laughed at each other. “I’ve been told I’ve had that effect on people.” Peter leaned in and brushed his lips against (M/N)’s, who leaned deeper into the kiss. After a while the two separated and laid down together. “So...what are we going to watch?” “Have you seen clone wars?”

“Duh.”

An hour later Tony would walk in to find the two boys passed out on top of each other. Quietly he pulled out his phone and took a photo. “Nerds. But they’re my nerds.”

#marvel #peter parker #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x male stark reader #peter parker x male!stark reader #peter parker x stark reader #peter parker x stark!reader

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wincore · 4 years

Text

sweet tooth | dong sicheng

pairing: vampire!sicheng x reader

words: 2.8k

summary: out of all the inconveniences a vampire boyfriend could pose, there’s about two tonight: a) him losing it at the next person who compliments his fangs, or b) you losing it at sicheng’s 100% blood alcohol content

genre: vampire!au, boyfriend!au, college!au, (tooth-rotting) fluff, comfort, humour

warning(s): mentions of blood, alcohol consumption, college halloween parties

song rec(s): candy - baekhyun // wish you were sober - conan gray

a/n: let’s pretend it’s halloween pls <3 also im sorry it’s so short and more drabble-ish but i wanted to write something gentle and comforting so!!! yeah ^^ also there is no plot. eep.

It’s two in the morning.

Or rather, it feels like two in the morning.

A frat party is a horrible substitute for an actual Halloween party. The alcohol content is through the roof and the number of pairs making out is enough to make you feel queasy. You never knew horror themes had the innate ability to make people so flagrantly horny—you’re half glad you’re not, god forbid, single. Most of your friends were too busy, however, to organize the close-knit party you usually have each year—so here you are, with an invitation from a friend of a friend (of a friend). Your boyfriend might be the only one feeling more out of place than you are.

You glance at Sicheng from the pool table, the cup frozen against his lips while his eyes scan the room from corner to corner. You don’t do crowds and neither does he; though he does have the unwitting ability to charm any crowd he’s in. You’re not quite sure if he’s still unaware of that.

You watch as a girl you can easily recognize from your campus approach him, all smiles and giggles. She says something and you scoff, almost completely certain about what it is she said.

Sicheng might be unaware of it—but you are, and painfully so.

She looks at him starry-eyed and the scent of rum wafting around her. A part of her jacket is off her shoulder, a faint blush covering her cheeks that you can spot even under the dim lights. She’s definitely flirting—you know that because rumours go around faster than assignments in this university. Choi Joohee has a very public, very open crush on your boyfriend.

It’s not like it bothers you. Not at all.

Just a little bit.

Jealousy has never been your thing and you’re half certain what you’re feeling isn’t even jealousy—just a taste of alcohol and the proximity of a Halloween house party.

Speaking of which, the only thing harrowing about this place is the amount of alcohol everyone seems to be consuming—including your boyfriend. Ten dragged Yukhei home a while ago and a part of you is still not confident enough to handle a boyfriend with very pointy fangs and midnight cravings for blood (or juice, as Ten disgustingly phrases it).

Sicheng nods along to something Joohee asks, an eyebrow raised quizzically on her and you assume he’s been zoning out the whole time. The urge to laugh surfaces and you swallow it whole. He’s so cute, even in this state. The lights dance across his face; candy blue, rich purple, saccharine red. The colours don’t help him stand any straighter, or slur his words any less.

You think it’s time to help your boyfriend out. However, the moment you walk through the swarms over to them, Joohee’s face sours. Of course, as the only competition (is it a competition if you’ve already won?) to the object of her affections, you don’t rank too high in her books. It made you a little upset at first, but you got used to it. (“She’ll get over it,” Sicheng had reassured several times. “Don’t worry.”)

People grow, and with that thought, you let it be.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Joohee tells Sicheng and walks away, like he’s supposed to follow her.

You roll your eyes and turn to Sicheng, who’s had a very delayed response to Joohee’s departure. His head is tilted to the side, eyes half-lidded and you’re almost afraid he’s going to drop to the floor right there and then. This is bad. The thing about vampires is that they absolutely should not, under any circumstance, have alcohol. Calling your boyfriend a lightweight is beyond an understatement.

“Sicheng,” you call softly.

He turns to you, taking a moment to process, before pulling his lips into a wide smile. His fangs poke out even when he presses his lips back together, a contemplatory look over him.

“I thought you left me here.” He forces a sardonic smile.

Drunk off his ass and Sicheng still manages to be annoyingly sarcastic.

You open your mouth and close it again. It’s not like you can chide him without letting your fondness show. The Adonis features that grace his face don’t help. Flushed all the way to the neck, a drunk Dong Sicheng is very rare. The last time this happened must have been at least two years ago (and though you weren’t there then, the way Ten and Kun freeze up at the slightest mention, you decided to not ask).

“Why did you drink?” you ask, huffing. “You can’t even smell alcohol.”

There’s a short pause.

“Because you were ignoring me,” he replies, leaning in.

Heat washes into your cheeks. You forgot how unrestrained he gets with alcohol in his system.

Sicheng seems to have enough consciousness left in him to feel somewhat embarrassed, standing up straight and fiddling with his thumbs. You slip your hand into his without delay and pull, trying your best to navigate through the crowd. Is an ordinary Halloween party too much to ask for? Just when you can finally spot the front door, Sicheng stops abruptly, making you stumble backwards into his chest. He smells like the old deodorant he’s been using for a year underneath the smell of beer and… is that blood?

“Where are we going?” he asks sharply.

“Home, Sicheng,” you whine. “You can stay in my bed.”

He stays rooted in place stubbornly, and you wonder what it is now. This is the time you have to wonder if you’re dating a (potentially) immortal creature or a recently birthed baby.

“We should enjoy more. You’ve hardly smiled the past few weeks,” he mutters.

Your heartbeat spikes for a moment, when he brushes the hair from your face. All this time and he hasn’t changed the words he offers to you in private, the care on his lips and fingertips. A room full of people who aren’t listening is the best place to talk.

The first time you saw Sicheng was in the middle of the night, in the dark hallway of your shared apartment building, blood staining his jaw from a bag he’d acquired from med student Wong Kunhang. (You’re very sure that’s illegal.)

Needless to say, you’d fainted immediately after. When you came to, you were met with a man with pretty eyes and fangs poking out his mouth and in a bed that wasn’t yours. There was no blood this time but you screamed anyway, cut off by the man’s hand over your mouth.

“Calm down,” he said, voice surprisingly deep. “It’s not like I’m going to kill you.”

“You were planning to kill me?” you asked, panicking.

“I just said I wouldn’t,” he replied quietly, eyes wide and almost as stressed as you are.

Sicheng heaves a sigh, massaging his forehead. You shake yourself off the memories, tugging at his shirt so you can sit somewhere at least. The alcohol must have numbed his ears too. The low R&B tunes make no sense on Halloween night; even less when they’re played a few bars above the acceptable volume. If you’re not out of here soon, you might lose your hearing altogether.

The couch is slightly less stinky than you would have expected. (You grimace as you think to the last time you were at a frat party and in particular, the vomit.) Beside you, Sicheng mumbles about something you’re not quite sure of, a quiet rant with one-track emotions. It makes you giggle and for a moment, you forget the predicament of being stuck with a drunk vampire boyfriend who has just finished teething.

“Hey, guys.”

You look up to see Jihoon, the very friend of a friend (of a friend) who had invited you to this mess. It’s not like you harbour ill feelings towards him; but the guy has approximately zero ability to read the room. It’s mostly funny.

Sicheng makes a vague gesture that you assume means ‘hello’, sitting up straight so he doesn't look noticeably tipsy. You make light conversation with Jihoon, Sicheng’s arm around your waist tightening reflexively. You don’t plan on party-hopping, no matter how much Jihoon urges the two of you—seriously, does he not see the look on Sicheng’s face? He looks more zombie than vampire.

“You know, you don’t actually have to wear costumes for this, right? We didn’t set a theme,” Jihoon remarks, tilting his head to face your boyfriend. “The fangs are really cool, though. Holy shit. Dude, they look so real.”

Sicheng’s lips twitch but he forces them into a smile, trying to move as far away from Jihoon as possible. The fangs are usually not out and about in the open, slightly retracted during the day. The night, however, keeps him on edge. Sicheng hates the spotlight that only ever shows up for the wrong reasons, and he’d much rather graduate without having to deal with horny vampire-lovers. (It’s not that sexy; and you know from experience.)

The way Sicheng looks makes you wonder how many people have pointed out the fangs tonight. You purse your lips to keep yourself from laughing.

“Thanks,” he responds, voice his usual deep baritone.

Jihoon leaves after being unable to draw any more conversation out of Sicheng, some peace gracing you despite everything.

If you ever write a book on how to deal with vampire boyfriends, the first rule would be to never kiss him at night. The fangs are not as withdrawn then and they hurt. (The second is, of course, to never let them get a whiff of alcohol.)

When Sicheng first kissed you, it was midnight and you were at the convenience store to buy a few lunchboxes and instant coffee mix. You’d yelped when his fang had pricked your lower lip, alarming the worker and around fifteen minutes of (dishonest) explanation later, the two of you had left without buying what you came for.

After fretting for a while, Sicheng had kissed you once more with careful consideration—till the damn fangs got in the way again. It was sweet for a moment—like candy—though, the metallic taste of blood had invaded it afterwards. No matter how awkward or painful it was, your elation outweighed the rest.

Kisses weren’t the only thing interrupted by fangs.

The turtlenecks and scarves certainly raised an eyebrow in your circle of friends. There was concern at first, then teasing and then a whole lot of inside jokes which made you want to smack each and every one of them. (“They’re hickeys, I swear, not vampire bites,” you had informed Ten. “Ew. I did not need to know that.” “Shut up.”)

Even so, Sicheng is warm—always has been, and not on the skin.

You feel pressure on your shoulder, his hair tickling your neck and you adjust yourself so it’s more comfortable.

“Tired?” you ask.

“Not at all.”

You shake your head at his lie. Gently pushing his head away, you get up from your seat and pull him up with all of your strength. Linking your arm through his, you smile at him when he raises an eyebrow. It’s time to get home, you’ve decided and these are times when one vote is enough.

When you reach the front door, stumbling out with your suddenly talkative boyfriend, the autumn breeze hits you. Under the moonlight, the rosy hue over his cheeks is clearer and even more so when he smiles.

“It’s like our first date,” he says.

You smile back at him.

“You were so embarrassing,” he adds.

Your smile drops and you smack his arm, eliciting a soft complaint from him.

Your first date was the only normal thing in this relationship—a date at the amusement park on Halloween, a bunch of kids mistaking your now boyfriend for Count Dracula and caramel popcorn smeared over your fingers.

Sicheng sighs, lowering his head to rest his forehead against your shoulder. The two of you stay like that for a moment or two, the party music finally fading and Sicheng’s warmth seeping into you. You fix the lapels of his jacket absentmindedly, fingers tracing over the material. His hands rest lightly against your back yet still secure.

A kitten lick at your neck jolts you back to reality. You gently push him by the shoulders, finding his fangs bared already. He stays unmoving for a few seconds before closing his mouth and going back to leaning against you, breath falling in waves against your neck.

“I’m not your juicebox, Sicheng,” you snap, frown deepening.

“But you have so much blood,” he mumbles, his forehead hot against your shoulder.

“Sicheng.”

He sobers up a little, pulling back with a stream of pouting apologies. You bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling. Despite everything, your boyfriend is such a child sometimes. There’s a short pause.

“But wait, don’t go biting someone else’s neck,” you quickly add, flustered.

Sicheng suppresses a smile.

“So I can have a little—”

“No.”

Sicheng pouts but agrees enough to follow you, the two of you moving soundlessly over the sidewalk. Being alone with him has always been easing; you don’t need a crowd for comfort.

With fingers interlaced, you walk alone with him as the orange street lights cast shadows on the buildings lined up. A few more blocks and you’ll reach your apartment, get to push Sicheng into bed and pray he doesn’t throw up at your front door—and yet still, you walk as slow as you can as if the autumn wind will be gone as quick as it arrived.

The number of people shrink the further you get from the party, and you heave a sigh of relief, glad to be away from, what you and your friends call, the rich neighbourhood. The familiar path to your apartment, no matter the pricing, has much better air to breathe in. It’s past midnight and yet, you can see the city lights in the distance, the ones that never sleep—for the living or the dead.

Something runs into your legs and you jump onto Sicheng, who in turn flinches away with a strangled yelp.

You look down to see a giant golden retriever in a white blanket which you assume is meant to be a ghost outfit. It wags its tail, sniffing around your boyfriend’s legs, making him giggle as he crouches down to pet the creature.

“I’m so sorry!”

You look up to find a young girl holding a pumpkin almost as large as her head, an apologetic look over her head. Some part of you is happy to see a costume, considering you were robbed of yours. (Sometimes you dream of matching costumes but again, the damn fangs.)

“Piri loves people, I’m so sorry if he bothered—oh hey dude, cool fangs.”

Sicheng offers the fakest smile ever, accompanied with a thumbs up gesture. You sigh, apologizing to the girl before parting ways.

“That’s the eighth time tonight,” Sicheng says, scowling almost. “I counted.”

You laugh, squeezing his hand. Calm, relaxed Dong Sicheng tends to lose it at repetitive comments with only three sips of beer.

When you reach the apartment building, clouds cover the moon and you draw your jacket closer to yourself. You think for a moment about the inevitability of time and whether you’re even allowed to fall in love this way. You push the thoughts aside almost inevitably. When the time comes, you will have a decision to make—and after everything, it is love which turns people.

For now, you can enjoy this Halloween night with your (literally) one-of-a-kind boyfriend.

You fumble around with the keys, Sicheng looking at you with sleepy eyes as he leans against the wall. He must be worn out from the alcohol by now.

“Hey,” he calls, the words more muffled than usual.

You raise an eyebrow, tugging him inside all the while maintaining your balance.

“You know my favourite blood type?” he continues.

You shake your head. “If you’re thinking of feeding, I’ll get some blood bags from Kunhang.”

Sicheng pouts. “You ruined the line.”

“Huh?”

“Yours. Yours is my favourite blood type.”

Despite the terrible execution of his so-called pick-up line, you find yourself shaking with laughter. You’re not sure if it’s the late night or the October air—the two of you share the silliest of laughter at the doorway to your apartment.

Within the moment itself, Sicheng leans in to kiss you and your hands move to run through his hair out of habit. The taste of beer and the prick of his fangs makes you pull away. You look at each other for a moment before you give in anyway and kiss him against the doorframe.

October ends with memories—your first date, Sicheng’s cooking disaster, and now this. It’s blissful for the few moments the two of you let it be. That is, until Sicheng opens his mouth.

“Oh, by the way, can you apologize to Ten for me? I think I bit him thinking it was you.”

“Sicheng, what the fuck?”

October ends with proximity, sweet as candy and warm as toast—stumbling into bed with all that and more.

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crystalirises · 3 years

Note

i am completely in love with your harry potter au, got any more crumbs? maybe some young georgebur falling in love? maybe some george x revivebur reunion?

(2/2) oh also I have this hc that not only did wilbur trust george with the hufflepuff cup horcrux just like bellatrix, but that he also made george's wedding ring into the ring horcrux (yk the one that poisoned dumbledors hand? except this one wouldn't be cursed obviously) so george would always have a piece of his husbands soul with him wherever he goes :,( <3 this is way to romantic in my head considering the fact that you have to murder someone and literally split your soul in half to create a horcrux🤦

hello! So this might not be exactly what you wanted cause I kinda like...

You know when you want to write but you're like... nah, I'm tired?

Yeah I'm currently going through that XD. My second year in college is starting next week so I've been busy with enlistment of classes and stuff. I did do something about this (along with other stuff cause I couldn't help myself and someone else asked before if I could make like a second prompt for what happens to Fundy after he got obliviated).

So yeah, this is like ten parts of drabbles that take place in this AU. Sorry if this isn't what you wanted. I'm very sorry.

Fair warning, some parts are dark cause... Georgebur are the villains and well they win and this is a Harry Potter AU, y'all know the villain, y'all know what his agenda is.

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31985884/chapters/82666897

I. First Meeting

“You’re all bark, Mr. Soot.”

He stopped, one foot already at the top of the stairs. Wilbur threw a careless glance back.

And, oh, he was glad he looked back. There were many students within Slytherin, and he only recalled the most interesting ones. George Lore had always been very intriguing. “How so?”

“You’re charming, but I’ve seen your… skills. You’re not very sharp.”

Wilbur laughed, moving back down the stairs to where George waited. He’ll show him sharp.

II. Expelled

“George Lore, the only man I will ever love, I believe this is where we part ways—”

“Wilbur, please keep your mouth shut and assist me with my luggage.” Of all the replies, Wilbur did not expect that. He glanced behind George where a bunch of suitcases waited eagerly to board the boat that would lead them back to the train station. Wilbur was stricken. When they’d expelled him for the murder of some… honestly, he wasn’t quite sure who he had murdered - some nobody mudblood, that was all… one, he had expected George to track him down just for the sake of lecturing him on his stupidity. Yet it seemed, that wasn’t the case. “Well, Wilbur? What do you say? Do we head home to your family’s manor or to mine? Either works for me.”

“Love, as much as I would love for you to stay at my home, what are you… huh?” George rolled his eyes, huffing before finally placing his bags on the boat, muttering on how useless Wilbur was and how he really was just charms and good looks. Not to be upstaged, Wilbur immediately took over, carrying George’s heavy bags onto the boat despite his confusion. He bit the bottom of his lip, watching as George stepped on board, sitting down as he waited for Wilbur to get his own bags into the boat. “Don’t tell me you’ve snuck out. Think of your grades, love, you care so—”

“I care more for you than some school who accepted those filthy mudbloods in the first place.”

Wilbur smiled, “And that’s why I love you. Whoever I killed, they had it coming.”

III. Isolation

George was growing tired of the same dingy walls.

He never thought he’d end up in Azkaban, but fate tends to surprise you.

They trapped him in there, thinking that the dementors would drive him to the brink of madness.

He’d be damned if they were to devour his happiness. His husband was dead, and so was their son. There was no happiness in his mind, and he could not bring himself to hope. Hope meant food for those damned abominations. He’d keep his thoughts and his emotions kept under lock and key. He won’t let them take what was left of what he remembers of Wilbur and their child.

He refuses to lose them again. Not again.

IV. Loss

He wasn’t an orphan, but now he felt like he was.

Fundy rushed out of the house, hands wet with sweat despite the cold and rainy weather of London. His bag dragged across the pavement, his shoes splashing against the murky puddles. He didn’t dare to turn back, he couldn’t. Dream and Sapnap would be devastated if they knew what he had done, but Fundy couldn’t stay and endanger his parents any longer. He loved them, they were the best parents a kid could ever ask for. But Sally and Jared Salmon would be better off thinking that they never had a son and that their lifelong dream was to move to the Netherlands. Fundy walked faster, scared that he’d turn back the longer he stayed near the house.

He could feel the tears gathering in his eyes, but Fundy knew he needed to be strong. Sapnap and Dream needed him to be strong. They’ve all lost too much. He won’t cry until the war is over.

Who knows? Maybe he’ll actually like living in the wizarding world.

He just wished it didn’t have to come with the cost of his parents forgetting he ever even existed.

V. Wedding Ring

George found it to be quite amusing, honestly.

You would think that the Order would know better. Incompetent fools, all of them.

He admired the ring on his finger, a small smile on his face. When they’d dragged him away to Azkaban, they had given him the mercy of leaving the wedding ring that Wilbur had proposed to him with. It was hilarious, if only they had known that they had been looking at a horcrux.

His husband’s horcrux. He shook his head, gazing over at the man who stood at the head of the war table. A map of Hogwarts laid on the surface, his husband’s focused gaze nearly covered by his curly, dark chocolate brown hair. He’d join in on the brainstorming once Wilbur had gained a bit of a plan. While George did adore his husband… he was more the charms than the brains.

For now, he keeps a part of his love’s soul close to his heart.

VI. Knitting Habits

He’s never held a knitting needle before in his life, but he can’t say that knitting wasn’t fun.

“I never thought I’d see the day. You’re getting old, love. Should I get you a rocking chair too?”

George threw a ball of yarn towards Wilbur, eliciting a laugh as it hit Wilbur directly on the face.

“Ever the humorist, Wil. It would be funny if it wasn’t coming from a man who literally came back from the dead and looks decayed.” He sighed, leaning against the wall of the alcove. Wilbur was still mulling over their plans, a crease in his forehead. “I’m making a scarf for our little son.”

Now here’s to hoping that Fundy would like it. George did do it with the colors of their family.

VII. Home

He trembled, the effects of the spell washing over him like a pile of snow.

George was whispering into his ear, but Fundy couldn’t hear him over the sound of his own breathing. Dream was dead, Sapnap got hit by a crucio spell, and George was taking him back to be tortured all over again. He continued to shiver, tears pouring past his cheeks no matter how hard he tried to keep himself from crying. The world around them melted back into existence, but all he could feel was his heart beating loudly in his chest and the arms wrapped around him.

“Shh, shhh, you’re alright, sweetheart.”

His captor pulled him along, keeping an arm wrapped around his shoulders, squeezing him every now and then each time he tried to put a bit of distance between them. He was led inside a room, and from the way it looked, Fundy could tell it wasn’t an ordinary guest room. It felt too lived-in, too personal. George led him to sit on the edge of the bed, gently petting his messy and dirty hair.

“It’s alright, Fundy. You’re home with dads now.”

VIII. Scarf

Fundy scowled, the scarf somehow tight against his neck despite it practically falling off.

He felt George adjust it back around him, fussing over him like he was a child and not some captive that they’ve been keeping locked inside their room. Fundy knew he wasn’t the tallest, his best friends already joke - well, they used to - about it, but George was just a foot taller and still he somehow felt even smaller. He huffed, moving away until his back was against the wall of the alcove. George didn’t make a move to follow him, simply sighing before turning back to Wilbur.

He buried his face against the scarf, trying to bring himself comfort.

If he tried hard enough, he could catch the faint scent of ash and black licorice. Sapnap had worn the scarf at some point during the battle since he thought it looked comfortable to wear. Fundy had given it to him since he didn’t know where it came from and it had been too big for him.

What he’d give to go back to that time, instead of clinging to the fading scent of his best friend.

IX. Very Dark Blue Eyes

There was a stranger in his room.

Fundy nervously fiddled with the end of his scarf. His wand was still on the nightstand where he had left it, and the stranger was blocking his way. He’d barely seen anyone for the past few months aside from his dads, but he could already tell who the stranger was. The stranger was his age and had long black hair falling past his shoulders. Fundy knew he was a Halo immediately.

“Holy shit… Fundy! Finally, I’ve been scouting the fucking grounds for hours! This place has terrible security, well except for the wards but they were easy to break.” The stranger rambled on and on, each word striking Fundy with more confusion. He wasn’t sure why he was acting like they knew each other. Fundy had no friends - aside from his Uncle Tommy but Uncle Tommy was awkward around him - so he wouldn’t know the stranger, especially since they were a Halo of all things. The stranger moved closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “I missed you!”

“Who are you?” He moved away from the stranger’s hold, avoiding the stricken look that the stranger was giving him. Fundy scowled. Of all the times to leave his wand where he couldn’t reach it. “I know you’re one of those… Halos at least. Now, how did you get inside my room?!”

“Fundy…” Very dark blue eyes gazed at him, hurt dancing in their stare. “It’s me, Sapnap…”

X. You’re a Wizard, Fundy

The letter came at some point during the night.

His mama had asked his papa if he’d enrolled Fundy in a faraway school by accident, but papa had said that he hadn’t. They were whispering about it during breakfast, throwing glances at him every so often as though they didn’t want him to hear. He pretended not to care, attention focused on his breakfast. Mama and papa weren’t arguing, but it almost felt like they were. He hoped that their conversation would be over soon, but it continued even after Fundy finished his breakfast. He left his plate on the table before walking out of the dining room and into the hall. Mama and papa didn’t seem to even notice that he had left. Now to find what was the problem.

He found the problem all too quickly, his scavenger hunt cut short by the fancy letter that had been left on top of a table in the hallway. Fundy held the letter in his hand, the paper coarser than most that he’d felt. He knew he shouldn’t be snooping, but his mama and papa never talked about something so incessantly, at least not something about him. He snuck back into his room, the letter clutched in his hand. Maybe he’d failed his entrance exam at the school his parents were enrolling him in? He pouted, but he’d studied so hard for it and it had been so easy for him!

Fundy didn’t know why his hands trembled as he tried to pull the letter open. Mama had folded it back to the way it had been, and he couldn’t really see the trace of ink at the back. A part of him wanted to hide it away, maybe then mama and papa would stop worrying about it. He didn’t know why, but a part of him felt like something was about to end the moment he opened the letter. He took a deep breath. He could handle long hours of studying, even though his mama and papa said it wasn’t healthy for him to stay up so late. He could handle what was inside the letter. With shaking hands, he opened it, scanning the life-changing words that were meant for him.

If he only knew what that letter meant at the time, then maybe he would have just burned it.

#georgenotfound dsmp #wilbur soot #georgebur #fundy #sapnap #dream smp fanfiction #dsmp #harry potter AU

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writingsbychlo · 4 years

Text

let me down slow (04)

word count; 8865

summary; you get your college acceptance letter, and you celebrate with stiles, before mitch really rewards you.

notes; y’all are gonna’ love it. just wait.

warnings; smut, public sex, car sex, overstimulation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, underage drinking.

With your bag swinging at your side, two jumpers tucked carefully into it and a letter held tightly in your hand, Stiles was talking your ear off a mile a minute through the phone as you finished the walk down the road towards his house. He was practically bursting at the seams to open his letter, and you told him that you were only minutes away, taking up a quick jog towards the house.

“Stiles, I am literally coming up the front drive, if you open that letter before I get in there, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure you will, you can’t even see me I’m so quick. Quicker than you apparently, because it’s taking you like two hundred years t-”

He cut himself off as you opened the front door, stepping inside and giving him a pointed look, a false scowl on your face as your brows raised, and you brought the device down from your ear to hang up, putting your phone into the back pocket of your jeans. Kicking the door shut behind yourself, you peeled off the jacket you had worn, taking a deep breath to calm your heart from the speed walking and sudden exertion burst of your jog at the end, before the smile you could barely suppress was making its presence known on your features once again.

“You got your letter?”

“Yeah, I did, baby!” You waved it up in the air, and he let out a series of hoots and hollers as your hands collided in high-fives. He held up his own, a more than excited look on his face. “Good thing I got mine first, you clearly have no patience.”

“What? When did you get yours?” A series of undignified sounds left him as you chuckled, toeing off your shoes and collapsing down on the couch.

“About two days ago, but I was waiting for you. I’m a good friend like that.” The words didn’t hurt you quite as much to say, and you didn’t even feel the familiar strike of pain when he mumbled ‘yeah, you are’, before pushing his letter into your hand.”

“I want you to open mine.” You looked between them both, the letters looking absolutely identical, and so you held yours out to him instead, and he plucked it from your fingers carefully. “We open each other’s?”

“Sounds good to me.”

You pushed your finger under the flap of the envelope, your heart racing in your ears, and you practically felt nauseous with anticipation. Stiles had a full body shake, practically vibrating as he stood there, and your moment was interrupted by that of another body circling the doorway and arriving by your sides.

“Thought I heard you, but how could anyone not with all the screaming going on in here?” Mitch’s eyes were twinkling with mischief at his comment, before Stiles was holding up your wrist and waving two white letters in his face so fast they probably appeared more like a blur, but he straightened up a little, seemingly excited as he figured out what he was looking at. “You got your application letters?”

He looked at the one in your hand, reading over Stiles’ name and humming as he thumbed at the familiar college logo in the top corner, having known for years that Stiles wanted to follow in his older brother’s footsteps and take law at the prestigious institution. He turned to Stiles next, looking over the front of the envelope he held, before turning back to look at you.

“You applied to Syracuse too?”

You weren’t quite sure how to read the look on his face, or the tone of his voice, but you didn’t have long to debate it, because only a second later, Stiles was commandeering the attention again as he prompted you to open the envelope in your hand. Sliding your thumb under the seal, you lifted up the flap, Stiles messily tearing open yours as he pulled it out and stared down at the letter in his hand, your eyes already flying over the words printed before you on the paper.

“Oh, my God! Stiles! You got in!”

“I got in?”

“You got in!” He threw his hands up in the air, screaming out his victory and the shakes across his body finally seemed to calm down, the two brothers sharing a hug. It wasn’t a typical manly hug, claps on the back and pushing one another away after a second. Stiles had his arms wrapped tightly around his brother, face pressed into the older boy’s shoulder and Mitch ruffled at the hair he’d finally grown out and held him back just as tightly, praising him wildly and letting out his congratulations for him.

When he finally pulled back, he met your anxious gaze, the letter belonging to him having been put down on the table beside you both as he held yours between nimble fingers. Reading over the words, you felt like you might actually pass out from holding your breath, before Stiles was looking back up to you, his face a neutral expression for only a second, before splitting open in one of the widest grins you’d ever seen.

“We’re going to Syracuse together!”

“Holy shit!” You didn’t even get a chance to let out the loud squeal you were keeping locked up, before Stiles was scooping you up in his arms, your feet leaving the ground from the impact with which his body collided with yours, and a fit of laughter was forced from you as the boy picked you up, spinning you around in a few circles as you clung to his shoulders before he finally put you down. “We both got in?” You took a minute to comprehend it, before you were looking down at the letters which now sat together, open on the table, before you were all but jumping up and down with the boy who’d been your best friend for years. “We both got in!”

The rush you felt was exhilarating, and you covered your face with your hands, dropping your head for a second as your fingers slipped up into your hair, taking a minute to process the news and calm down.

“I gotta’ go call dad! And Scott!” Stiles gasped, and you nodded quickly, watching as he disappeared from the room, bolting upstairs to his room, his bedroom door slamming shut only seconds later, and you were left alone with Mitch, your heart racing and cheeks aching from the size of the smile on your face.

He took a step closer to you, crowding you up into the back of the couch, your lower back meeting it as his hands found a place on either side of your hips, his body all but pressing to yours with how close he was leaning into you. Pressing your forehead to his, you let out a happy little sigh, before your hands were finding his shoulders, and you were pulling away to be able to look at him.

“You never told me you were applying to Syracuse.”

“I didn’t want to say anything unless I got in.” He hummed in acknowledgement, before his hand slipped up to find your waist, and he was pulling you in closer by your hips, your body pressing up to his, and you moved your arms to swing around his neck, until your noses were brushing when you moved, and he was smiling down at you softly.

“I’m goin’ to make good on that blanket permission thing now.”

“Good.” You moved with him, your mouths meeting in the middle, a sweet kiss shared between you both as he tipped his head to the side, changing the angle between you and fitting your bodies together even more perfectly. His tongue traced along your lower lip, teasing at you until you parted them for him, and he groaned under his breath as your tongues finally dragged together, his hands squeezing a little tighter as you hips, before his arms were sliding around you more securely.

“We should celebrate. I can think of a few things I know you like, that we can definitely bring out in celebration.”

“Oh, yeah?” You dragged his lower lip between your teeth, feeling his body shake as a shudder ran along him at the sensation, a breathy sound making itself known in the back of his throat when you released it, and he was diving back in to press your mouths together again. It was deeper this time, long and slow, leaving you head spinning each time he pulled back for another breath, his hands slipping lower on your body and yours sliding up his hair as the world around you both slipped away.

It wasn’t until you heard the slamming of a bedroom door again that the two of you remembered where you were, and the company you held, snapping apart quickly with bashful looks, and he back away from you, smoothing down his hair at the back from where you had only seconds ago been pulling at it as he kissed you until your knees felt weak.

Stiles was bolting down the stairs, and you leaned back against the couch, using it to support yourself as you ducked your head, licking at your lips and hoping you didn’t look as flushed and flustered as you felt, your best friend clapping his hands and grinning at you both, entirely unaware of the tension he had walked into.

“So, we should celebrate, but we have to save the real celebrating for when everyone else gets their letters, so just for us, how about ordering food and making a night of it?” He looked at you for approval, but was already nodding, a beam on his face as he knew you wouldn't turn it down, and the second you had confirmed your agreement, of his plan, he was making his way into the kitchen to find all the leaflets.

“You’re joining us, right?”

Mitch’s eyes widened a little, looking between you and the direction his brother had disappeared, before his lips parted. “This is you and Stiles time. You sure you want me there?”

“Definitely.” You made your way to your bag, pulling out the two freshly washed sweaters he’d left you, that you had gotten all possible use out of that you could. “I brought these back for you, washed and folded and everything.”

He plucked the second one he’d left you with from your arms, but left the Syracuse one sitting in your hands, before glancing over his shoulder. When he turned back, he tipped your chin up with one finger, daring to lean in and place a short but sweet kiss to your lips, leaving you pouting and chasing after him when he pulled away, before you huffed out and stepped back, trying to keep your composure. “Keep the Syracuse one, consider it a graduation present.”

He winked at you as you cuddled it closer to your chest, nodding before tucking it back into your bag and covering it up, zipping it up tightly so that Stiles wouldn't accidentally see it later on. The pair of you followed after Stiles, finding him already sitting at the counter with a drink, texting rapidly on his phone with the various menus spread out around you both, and Mitch looked over them all, considering the options before gathering them back up.

“Why don’t we go out to eat somewhere?”

Stiles paused his typing, looking up over the edge of his phone and narrowing his eyes at his brother, before hitting send on whatever message he’d been constructing and putting the device face down on the countertop. “You wanna’ celebrate with us?”

“I have nothing better to do, and I certainly think you should be doing something other than what you do every Friday night to make the most out of getting into college. It’s a big deal.”

An idea flashed through your mind, and you let out a gasp, tapping at the counter with your hand as Stiles and Mitch both turned to look at you. “We could go to that fancy Italian place we pass by all the time and say we want to try!”

“Yes!” He held his fist out, and you bumped yours against it, before Mitch was putting the well-worn collection back into the drawer it lived in, and Stiles was getting up from his seat and bolting away to put on what he termed his ‘fancy flannel’. Looking down at yourself, you deemed it to be a reasonably acceptable outfit. After all, it wasn’t really all that fancy, it was just more than you and Stiles could afford to eat at on a regular basis, and therefore, made it ‘fancy’.

Mitch had left the room, finding his car keys and grabbing a jacket from the coat hooks, and Stiles came dashing back down the stairs, reaching for his keys after swiping your hand in his and pulling you towards the door.

“Stiles, I’m driving. I am not getting in that jeep. It smells weird.”

The younger brother’s jaw dropped, and you covered your mouth to hide the snicker you let out at the words, and Stiles snatched up his keys, a face like thunder as he glared at Mitch. “The jeep is classic, and your car smells.”

“My car smells like fresh pine and berries because I know what air freshener is, and my car has been cleaned since it was bought.” Both of them turned to look at you, the two almost identical men staring at you with a pointed look, and you pursed your lips in an attempt to hide your amusement at the situation, before eventually turning to Stiles.

“Sti, if Mitch drives, then you could fill up a flash with your dad’s whiskey and we can sneak in our own drinks.” His eyes seemed to sparkle at the idea, and only a second later, he was dropping his keys back into the dish and ruffling his hair as he walked past you, complimenting you on your ‘street smarts’ and waffling on to himself as he went to do just that.

“You’re like the Stiles whisperer.”

“Distraction is the key.” You teased, and he held open the door for you, flicking the latch on so that once Stiles left, the door would be locked tight until either they, or their father, returned home.

“Maybe it’s just your pretty face that does it.”

“Are you telling me that if I asked you nicely, you would ride in the jeep?” You held your hand to your heart in mock-shock, and he chuckled, the lights flashing on the dark SUV as you both made your way across the garden towards it, slowly.

“I’d do a lot for you, if you asked nicely.”

You hummed under your breath, moving towards the passenger seat instinctually, but Stiles emerged into the garden with a flourish, screaming ‘shotgun’ at the top of his lungs so loudly you were sure people two blocks over flinched too, and you glared at him, but gave in, deciding that you could pick your battles, and since he’d surrendered the jeep, you’d let him have the front seat. Hopping up into the back instead, you clipped yourself into the middle seat, and leaned forwards between them both as the car started up, and Stiles began to list off to his brother instructions on how to get to the location.

You were seated in a booth, Mitch on one side, and Stiles crammed in beside you on the other, menus coming to lay out before each of you as settled into the comfortable leather, and you peeked around in awe. They weren’t that busy, the evening rush yet to come in as the three of you came somewhere between lunch and dinner, and yet the atmosphere was still lively and buzzing with energy.

You went for a simple dish, a plate of lasagna, with a coke to accompany it. Stiles chose a chicken and bacon carbonara, and also a garlic bread that was a size too big for him to eat alone, but he was insisting that he would eat it anyway, and Mitch had ordered a spinach and ricotta cannelloni. The three glasses of pop arrived, and the second the waitress had slipped away with your order, Stiles had pulled all three to the centre of the table, slipping a helping of whiskey into each one and stirring them with the straws before passing them back out, and you shared a look with Mitch, shrugging at the fact that Stiles actually had the husper to do it.

The conversation quickly revolved around Stiles firing off more questions than you could count to his brother about college life, particularly at Syracuse, and stampeding into the next one before he even had the answer to the first. You sipped on your drink, trying to contain your smirk as half of the answers you were getting were from the same conversation you’d had only days prior while wrapped up in the older brother’s arms as he told you everything you had wanted to know, while rubbing your back and holding you close.

Once Mitch had finished his drink, he refrained from anymore, knowing that he had to drive, and after two, you decided it was enough too, and so Stiles finished the rest himself. It didn’t slow down his mouth or mind at all, but it did slow his body, and so he didn’t fidget with absolutely everything in sight, just his cutlery and the buttons of his shirt. The basket of breadsticks in the centre of the table dwindled down until there was nothing left but crumbs, and you were more than eager when the plates were finally placed on the table.

Reaching a foot out under the table, you looped your ankle around Mitch’s, Stiles not noticing either of your lingering gazes on one another as he paused in his cutting of his food, watching you carefully and flicking his gaze over to Stiles, before looking back to you. Twisting his foot and rearranging himself a little, he moved so your legs could sit wrapped together a little easier, his lips pulling up at the sides to form a subtle but soft smile, and for the rest of the meal, your legs were locked together.

The gazes didn’t stop either, it was like you couldn't help but look over at him, whether his eyes were on you or not, you wanted to take him in. The way he smiled when talking to his brother and listening to his stories, putting up with his erratic nature in a way that few people could, or the way his jaw moved every time he took a sip from a glass and made your mouth go dry as your thoughts blanked for just a moment each time.

In the times you weren’t looking at him, or looking at each other, you could sense his eyes on you. Like a heavy weight, it made the hair on the back of your neck stand up and goosebumps move along your body, in all the best ways. You liked the way it made you feel when he looked at you, liked the confidence that would burst through you each time. You knew he wanted you, and that he thought you were attractive, and that he never wanted to pick out your flaws. He never made you feel like anything less than beautiful, and you’d noticed that he made a habit out of telling you each time you were together, and so you felt almost powerful under his lingering stares each time.

Dessert was where things had really become interesting. At some point, the waiter came back over and lit the candle in the middle of the table as the light outside began to fade, and the evening crowd had begun to gather. The restaurant had got louder and a live band had begun to play, and for the first time in a long time, you were having an amazing night with your best friend, where your feelings for him were entirely ignored and irrelevant. They didn't even flitter across your mind.

You didn’t have to struggle not to reach out and hold his hands, and you didn’t stare at him endlessly, having to remind yourself to look away before he noticed. It was liberating, and freeing, and you were rejoicing just in the feeling of not having to feel guilty for the want of your heart.

You ordered three different desserts, but had asked for extra plates, crumbs littering the table cloth and making a mess around you all as you split the sweet treats and swapped plates around, each getting to try all three as you chose your favourites, before you were sitting back, entirely stuffed and utterly satisfied with the meal, and your server seemed more than happy with themselves when they brought the bill over.

You left them a generous tip, which didn’t take much convincing of the boys, because you were absolutely certain that they’d seen Stiles slipping booze into his drinks, and turned a blind eye once they realised you were celebrating and so you wanted to compensate them for their kindness. They also went with your every whim, which included boxing up Stiles’ leftover garlic bread and adding extra breadsticks when he asked, and serving you up the desserts with extra tableware when you’d made the request.

It had been a perfect night, which had dragged on and on even after you’d paid, the three of you sitting around happily discussing anything and everything you could think off, but once the food was out of the way and the seductive nature of the night crawled in, the tension between you and Mitch was once again growing.

You could feel it, from the way he would surreptitiously drag his eyes over you slowly, or the way he'd rub at his jaw slowly, long fingers scratching at his facial hair in a way that he knew made you head spin, and so you shifted or him equally, leaning over the table and resting your head on your hand, your elbow pushing up against your breasts and making them swell at the neckline of your shirt, and he in turn licked over his lips and nibbled on them until the were red and plump just from the sight.

You didn’t leave until the restaurant was closing up, Stiles slumping and calling the back seat as he yawned, your trio making a slow path towards the car, and the plaid-clad boy slumping down across the backseat and resting his hands under his arms, the safety belt slung across his body so that he could stay on the plush leather even if he fell asleep and rolled.

You played the music quietly, your hands clasped in your lap as you avoided reaching out to take Mitch’s in you own each time he switched gears, and you could tell he was reissing the same urges, the wish to reach out and reset a hand on your upper thigh obvious, the way he did every time you drove now being ignored as he kept a white knuckles grip on the steering wheel. You didn’t talk, but you did occasionally glance back with a fond smile into the backseat, words never being exchanged until you were leaning over the chair to nudge your best friend back to consciousness, and he awoke with a befitting flail, sitting up with messy hair and a slightly drool-damp cheek, wiping at his eyes and looking around.

“I slept the whole way home?”

“Well, did you get much sleep last night?” You pointed out, and he thought back, face scrunching up a little before he shook his head, wiping a hand over his face and slapping at his cheeks lightly to wake himself up.

“Do you need me to take you home?”

“Nah, Mitch can take me, right?” You turned to look at him, and he smirked to himself at the innuendo in your words, ensuring only you would see him as he continued to face forwards in his seat, glancing at the boy in the back via the mirrors.

“Yeah, I’ll take you.”

Stiles nodded, none the wiser as he leaned between the seats, pressing a kiss to your cheek, and bumping his forehead against his brothers temple and patting his chest from behind the seat in the laziest gesture of a hug you’d ever seen, but you figured you could excuse it, what with how tired he actually must've been. Letting himself out of the car, he patted the sides of the vehicle, and Mitch unclipped himself as he watched his brother stumble, taking his car keys from the ignition and promising he’d be back in a minute, before jogging up the dark driveway after his siblicing and slinging an arm over his shoulder.

He struggled to unlock the door, what with holding up the deadweight of Stiles and trying to navigate a key in the lock, but he managed it, much to your amusement, and the pair disappeared inside of the house. You watched each light flicker on one by one as they made their way through, lingering in Stiles’ room for almost ten minutes, before you watched the curtains be drawn closed by a positively exhausted looking Mitch, just from dealing with Stiles, and then the lights went off in order once again, before Mitch was stepping back out of the door, his eyes meeting yours as he locked it once again, and he shook his head as he made his way back over to the car.

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah, but first, I’ve been waiting all evening to do this.” You turned to him, brows furrowed and lips parted to ask him what he meant, but you didn't get a chance before a large hand was closing over your jaw, and a wet mouth finding yours as he kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping straight out and between your cheeks to tangle with you own in a playful collision. Sitting up further, you strained against the seatbelt you’d never bothered to remove, pushing into him eagerly as you reached out, clinging to any part of him you could reach in a bid to pull him closer, before you remembered your environment, and snapped away, reluctantly.

“What if Stiles sees?”

“He’s out cold, fell asleep half-way up the stairs and I had to carry him the rest of the way.” He grinned, the chuckle he let out washing warm air over your cheeks, and you couldn't help it when your eyes fluttered shut, your mouth drawn back to his like magnets pulling one another closer. It was instinctual, the way you craved him, the way you felt sunshine bursting through you in every place he touched.

He was like a drug, one you were wholly and entirely addicted to, he had you by the throat and did not plan to let go anytime soon, and you didn’t want him to.

“God, you have no fucking idea what you do to me.”

“I think I have a pretty good one, actually.” Your voice cracked as you spoke, barely able to words out through gasps for breath as his darkening eyes met yours and only seconds later he was diving back in, all teeth and tongue, a sloppy kiss with nipping and his hand in your hair to pull you head back, so that he could drag that sme sinful mouth over your jaw and down to your neck, until you were squirming in your seat and panting out his name just from the way it felt when his tongue lapped at your skin. “Not here, not here.”

He pulled back, cheeks flushed and eyes burning with desire, leaving you all but shaking as you looked at him, before you were letting out a low curse and pulling him back into you, a growl silenced by your mouth as you pressed more needy kisses or his lips that he was more than happy to return.

It wasn’t until you were lightheaded and your lungs were burning for air that you detached from him once again, lips stinging with the endurance and ferocity of your affections, but it was a tingle that spread along your entire body and left you feeling electrified.

“You’re incredible. God, you’re so fucking pretty. I wanted to hold your hand and kiss you today, I wanted your body pressed up beside mine in the booth so that I could have my arm around you all evening, so that I could feel you with me. I wanted all of your attention, I wanted you laughing at my jokes and looking at me and I didn’t want to hide my feelings for you.” He was panting as he spoke out the confession, and you pressed your forehead to his as your eyes fluttered shut and the lump of emotion formed in the back of your throat. “Is that selfish?”

“Yes.” He sighed out at your words, moving to pull back, but you held him where he was, pressing moving to press a kiss to his cheek, stubble brushing at your lips and delivering a delicious friction as he leaned into the touch and let out a needy sound. “But I wanted the same things, so I don’t care if it was.”

“You’re going to drive me insane, kitten.”

“That’s okay, I’ll like you just as much anyway.”

He leaned in, chasing your lips again, but you pulled away from him, the windows in the car having fogged up a little from your activities and you were boiling over with heat, but he let out a grumble as you pulled away, before he was flopping back into his own seat and running a hand through his hair, pulling a laugh from you as the word ‘tease’ slipped from his lips with absolutely no venom, but pure affection.

The engine rumbled as you took up motion once again, and you leaned in towards him, head lolling on the seat as he reached out a hand to sit on you thigh, clasped tightly onto the muscle, and you dragged a finger along each vein in his forearm slowly, tracing it up until it disappeared into his bicep, and you never missed the looks he would cast down at you. The music was soft and slow, a collection of simpler tunes that the pair of you had constructed together during one afternoon via a video chat, after claiming you needed some more relaxed songs to play while the two of you were talking, and it felt like it fit the mood perfectly now.

His fingers were gripping the steering wheel fiercely, the same grip on your thigh, so hard you’d have five little purple marks in the morning, but it drove you wild to know how much he craved you, how tightly he would hold you, how much he cared, and so you didn’t have a will in the world to stop him.

“Mitch?”

“Yeah, kitten?”

“When I come to Syracuse in the fall, will we be like we are now, or are we going to go back to the way we were before?” He slowed down a little, meeting you curious but vulnerable gaze and holding it for a few seconds, before raising up the hand that had been on your thigh hand curling it around you at an awkward angle but enough to be able to hold the side of your head delicately, and pull you close enough that he could press a kiss to your temple without having to take his eyes off of the road.

“Baby, at this point, I don’t think we could go back to that even if we tried. You’re buried way too deep within me now.”

You pressed a kiss to his shoulder, the words warming you from the inside out and shooting down to the very core of your being. “Mitch, pull over.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” He flicked his indicators on despite his protest of your words, the empty roads giving him no hesitation in swerving off of the lanes to park up haphazardly on the side of the dark tracks, and he turned to look at you, wide eyes as he watched you unbuckle yourself from your seat. “What is it?”

“I really don’t think I can make it home before fucking you. I need you now. I need you to show me how much you care.”

“Holy shit, here?” You nodded, reaching out to him as he grabbed your hand at the wrist, smirking at the whimper you let out as he prevented you from touching him, and he shook his head a little.

“I want to ride you, right here. I need it.” You moved again, brushing your fingers over the bulge in his pants, the half-hard cock he’d held all night, since the lustful moment you’d shared before ever going out for the celebratory meal. He seemed to consider the proposition, his eyes glinting with a kind of look that made your body quiver beneath it, his tongue poking out to lick over his lower lip slowly before he was fixing you with one of the cheekiest looks you’d ever seen.

“No.”

Your jaw gaped, and you began to try and form sentences in your head, but he was removing himself from the seat, out of the door and slipping away in the darkness to round to your side, before yanking the door open and twisting your body towards him. Pulling you until you were barely perched on the seat, he parted you thighs, moving himself to be able to stand between them, and he dragged his tongue along the spot on your neck that he was oh-so-familiar with now, the patch that made you cry out his name when he bit and sucked at it.

“You’re so fucking dirty. Gonna’ fuck me out here, on the side of the road where anyone could see us. Filthy. If we’re doing that, we’re doing it right. I‘ve been thinking about fucking you over the hood of my car since the day you came over while I was checking the engine, and you leaned against the side in that little dress that barely contained your tits and was a little bit too short to be considered entirely modest.”

He was working on leaving a particularly large mark on your skin, one you’d have to put effort into covering up, but with the way his hands were moving across your body and the way it felt when the hair lining his face scraped your skin, only to be soothed by gentle kiss and laps of his tongue seconds later, you had nothing within you that wanted to stop him.

The words broke through your haze, cracking it enough to grant you a little clarity, and you pulled his head up to look at him as he stared right back at you, more lust than you’d ever seen on his face before.

“That was last summer, when you came home to visit, before we started this whole thing.”

He nodded, his lips dragging over yours in a desperate kiss, as he took a minute to formulate his feelings into words. “Never said the first time we fucked was the first time I had thought about it, always felt guilty for thinking about another girl when I had Katrina, but we’d started drifting by then, couldn’t help it that my mind was wandering.”

Your frenzied mind was understandable in wake of the revelation, and he paused, studying you carefully for you reaction, and you tightened your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer to you and looping your arms around his neck to hold yourself to him as tightly as you could.

“Please, say something.”

“I remember that day.” He grinned ducking his head a little when your hand came up to brush his hair back out of his face, intimate despite the heat of the moment, and when he looked back at you his cheeks held a pink tint to them. “You were just my best friend’s older brother, but you looked so good, I couldn’t help it. You had no shirt on, and you were covered in grease, and your hair was all messy. You were sweaty, and dirty, and it was exactly like something out of a bad porno, but I didn’t care because you looked so good.”

His hands pushed under your ass, scooping you up and pulling you out into the cold of the night, a welcome breeze washing over you and cooling you right down, from the tender heat that was covering you as the tension built up. He set you down on the edge of the hood, your feet barely reaching the ground as he pressed you into the metal, arms around your waist as you dipped back, his body following yours.“I’m going to take you apart one day, piece by piece, slowly, until you don’t know how to handle it anymore. But that isn’t tonight.”

“It’s not?”

“No, that’s for another time. Tonight, I’m going to bend you over the hood, and then I’m going to fuck you so good you’ll be screaming out, you’ll never forget the way my cock feels inside of you, you’ll never be able to be with anyone else the same way. I’m going to ruin you for everyone else, and you’re still going to be able to feel the way I’ll hold you tonight for days to come.” His lips brush your ear as he spoke, tucking hairs away behind it innocently as though he didn’t just break you down to a mess of arousal and need just from his words.

“Oh, God, Mitch..”

“I got you, baby. Don’t worry.” He eased his hands down your body, popping the button on the front of your jeans and dragging the zipper down slowly. “I bet you’re dripping wet for me, huh? I think you’re soaked, ready for me already, aren’t you?”

You lifted your hips when he moved to inch the fabric down, taking your panties with them as the stiff material bunched around your thighs, and he sunk down to his knees, dragging the bundle further and further down, until he was freeing your feet of you shoes and dragging the clothing that had been covering the lower part of your body with them. Kissing his way back up your body slowly, he placed a harsh bite to the inside of each thigh, rubbing his thumb over the indents once he was satisfied, and you let out a cry of his name as you collapsed back against the car for support.

When he was standing over you once again, he lifted your chin up delicately with one hand, your mouths brushing together in scarce kisses, as the other hand nudged your legs apart, cold fingers swiping across your heat, and you let out the most desperate noise you had ever made for him as he swirled through the juices you had released. “Is this all for me?”

“Fuck, yes, all yours.”

“Tell me who made you wet, tell me that I did. I want to hear you say it. Not Stiles, not any of those guys that leave those comments on your Instagram posts that drive me wild, but me.” He dipped two fingers into you easily, your arousal practically dripping down his hand already as he set a rhythm, pumping slowly in and out of you as he stretched you out, dragging his knuckles against your entrance each time, just to hear the whine you let out as he did.

“You affect me like nobody else ever has, Mitch. You came into my life and flipped it upside down, and I love it. You make me wild, and spontaneous, and you make me feel free. I need you, I need you now, please! You’re all I want, all I need.” He pulled his fingers from you, sucking the digits into his mouth as he watched you carefully.

“Do you mean it?”

“Every word.” You confirmed, and he released the digits, pulling you into a sloppy kiss that conveyed every unspoken word between the two of you. Your hands went to the buckle of his belt, tugging it open with frantic jerks until you could get it free from it’s loops, his own hands popping the button, and you pushed down the material, until they were pulled taut around muscular thighs, his leaking cock springing up in the cold air, a hiss leaving him at the contrast.

Long fingers wrapped around himself, your gaze fixed on the sight of him slowly fucking up into his fist, the occasional swipe of his thumb to rub acros shis head, smearing the arousal he was realsing each time. “Wallet, kitten. Get my wallet.”

His head was tipped back, and you leaned into him, pressing you mouth in a collection of kisses along the exposed column of his throat as you reached for his jeans, pulling the worn leather pouch from the back pocket, and fishing through it for the emergency condom that he was replacing an awful lot nowadays. Tearing it open, you allowed the wrapper to flutter down onto the metal beside you, sitting there discarded with the open wallet, and you rolled the rubber onto him slowly, a lazy smile on his face as he watched you do so.

“Good girl. Now, turn around and bend over for me.”

You did as told without hesitation, bracing yourself over the curve of the car as your breath fogged up on the metal with each hot breath you panted out. Lining himself up behind you, one quick thrust had him sinking hilt deep within your walls, his name a cry on your lips as he filled you up in a perfect fit, your cries of bliss sounding out in harmony around you both.

The cold air around you both seemed to crackle with the energy that was sparking between you, his hands finding you hips as he leaned over, rolling his hips in circles but never beginning to set his rhythm, teasing you as you pushed back into him, trying to get him to move in the way you want, but he only chuckled into your skin as he leaned dove you back. Delicate kisses were placed along your spine, getting wetter and dirtier each time, until his chest was flush to your back, and he was moving his mouth out and along your shoulder, before sealing his lips around a certain spot, and sucking harshly.

You pressed your forehead to the cool metal of the car, hoping it would do something to quell the fire burning within you, an inferno raging throughout your body and crawling along every nerve you had until you were lit up like a bonfire, a burning desire for him, and him only. “Mitch, please!”

He cooed, dragging his tongue slowly over the patch he’d been sucking at and nibbling, before kissing the spot delicately and standing back up to his full height, his hands smoothing back down you sides to your hips, tickling you as they ghosted over your ribs and waist, before he was settling them in a comfortably firm grip.

Pulling out in one swift movement, he moved until only the head of his cock remained within you, your walls pulsing and throbbing, begging to draw him back in, and he let out a sound mixed between a low growl and a contented sigh, and rocked his hips back into yours so firmly that your body jolted formwards,and you scrabbled to find purchase against the car, trying to hold yourself up as your clothed torso slid along the vehicle, hips slamming into it and you eyes rolling back.

“Like that, kitten?” He repeated the motion, once, twice, picking up speed with each one until you were crying out with need every time, your jaw hanging open and nothing but babble left you every time, vague sounds that resembled his name and some forms of begs for more, which he was happy to indulge you in. He was fucking into you hard, and fast, your hips slamming into the side of the vehicle each time, your loud moans of wanton pleasure called out into the open to echo along the deserted road. The thrill of getting caught, the idea that someone else may drive along these lonely roads in the late hour, the off chance someone may catch the two of you was exhilarating. You felt reckless and dangerous, adrenaline surging through your system with every time his hips met yours, the sounds of skin clapping with skin drowned out by your sobs of bliss and his grunts and growls in ecstasy.

You took one another to new heights, the chemistry between you both making every punch of his cock into you feel like nothing anyone had ever felt before, earth shattering pleasure passing over you both each time as you became lost in the movements. Propping yourself up on your hands sweaty palms slid against the sleek surface, but you managed to hold yourself up, pushing back to meet him each time, the flurry of movements between you both making him hit deeper within you each time.

He was right, you’d still be able to feel his phantom touch in every place that he skimmed over you, the feel of being stretched wide around his cock was only the half of it, but the intoxicating feeling of his mouth on your skin, or the seductive glide of his fingers over you in ways that made your shiver, it all served to haunt your dirtiest desires and filthiest dreams in the future.

“I’m close. Oh, fuck, I’m so close.”

“Me too, sweetheart, I know. You can cum, show me what you got. I’ll make it worth it, I promise.” He continued to whisper the sweet nothings in your ear, wrapping an arm around you from you newer and upright angle, a two fingers from his other hand slipping into you mouth in a way that had sex-sodden nostalgia rolling over you in waves. You sucked at them tightly, giving them the same treatment that you would his cock, and he knew it too, from the sound he made into your ear that was almost enough to catapult you right over the edge just from the sounds of it.

His rhythm was growing messy, stuttering hips and erratic pulses in his movements told you he was nearing his peak too, and those spit drenched digits were pulled from your mouth with an audible ‘pop’, before soon finding a home rubbing rapid patterns into your neglected clit. The stimulation of the swollen bead was enough to finish you, a broken sob sounding out as a scream, your whole body shaking violently as one of the most powerful orgasms you'd ever had washed over your body and left you entirely wrecked.

He came only moments after you did, higher pitched noises and cracking voice telling you that this round had ruined him in the sae was it had destroyed you, his sweaty body collapsing down over you, the fabrics of your shirts sticking to you in every patch, and he held you to him tightly, shaking and letting out praises into your ear as he tried to gain any form of clarity once again.

You took the initiative, using shaky arms to stand yourself up, stumbling a little on legs that felt like jelly as he took a step back, pulling out of you. He caught you after your stumble, holding you to his chest in a tight hug, and you held onto him just as tightly, taking a second to gain your strength. “That was one of the best times we’ve ever had.”

He laughed against your ear, nodding and humming, before he was pulling back and tucking himself into his pants. You leaned back against the car, a dopey smile on your face and exhaustion seeping into your body, nothing but adoration and joy surrounding you. “Let's get you home, sweetheart.”

You nodded into him, but made no effort to move as you watched him fix his belt and scoop up his wallet to put it back in the back pocket of his jeans. You sighed, pushing yourself up a little and leaning down to the floor to collect your clothing, pulling your panties back on first, followed by your jeans. The material had grown cold from it’s time abandoned in the grass, sending a shiver along your spine as you searched for your boots, pulling them on one at a time and preparing yourself for the journey home.

He made to round the car, but with a handful of his shirt, you brought him to a stop for just a second, pressing a short kiss to his lips before letting him go, and the brightness of the smile he gave you ins response for the small action was enough to make you think dawn had arrived early, lighting up your world with beautiful colour.

Mitch’s hand was in yours as soon as the car had started up again, and he was pulling it up to his mouth to press kisses along you knuckles, your head rolling to the side a little bit as the two of you pulled back out onto the road and set off on the rest of the drive, happy silence sitting between you both as your eyes drifted shut a little in the joyous atmosphere sitting between you both.

When you finally made it back to your house, you were half in and out of your sleep, and you were roused back to full consciousness by the soft squeezings of your hand, and gentle fingers running up and down your arm, shaking you into awareness delicately. You had stayed for a further fifteen minutes, sharing tender kisses with him as the two of you prolonged the time you had, sneaking around making it hard to get the kind of long moments you wanted with one another, and when you eventually pried yourself away from him, it was with dragging feet and and drooping eyes that you found yourself making you way up the garden to your home

You had the front door unlocked and the keys back into your bag when you felt warm hands closing on your waist. Spinning you around, the face you adored so much was peering at you once again, before you were being dipped backwards by an arm around the waist and held close, a long kiss being pressed to your lips, a squeak sounding from you and dying in the connection between you as his mouth moved with your own in a passionate connection.

When he pulled back, it was barely, your mouth still craving to be locked with his own, but you took a gasping breath, looking up at him as his eyes fluttered open.

“What was that for?”

“I wasn’t ready to let you go yet.” His confession made you heart ache for him, and you pulled him in close, wrapping yourself up in his arms, a hug that made you feel like the earth had stood still on its axis, stopped spinning for a second and pausing time so that you could enjoy this moment a little longer. “I want to take you out, on a real date, if you feel like you want that, too?”

He was giving you an out; out of the agreement, out of your feelings, out of any commitment before it got too far, but you didn't want to take it. Instead, you leaned into him a little further, pecking his cheek and rocking back onto your feet as he followed you, stepping closer to you still to keep you within his arms. “I’m free on Saturday night.”

“Saturday works perfect for me. It’ll be the best date you’ve ever been on.” You had no doubt that he’d keep his word, and you were already filling up with excitement at the prospect of it. He let out a sigh, before releasing you and stepping away, offering you a flick of his lips in a smile. “I hate having to let you go, when we scarcely even had any time at all. I don’t like leaving.”

“Then stay.”

The words had left your mouth before you could even stop them, but you didn't regret them or take them back, his eyes widening in shock, and you shrugged at him as his brows asked the silent question.

“I just want to fall asleep with you by my side.”

“What about your parents?” He mumbled, but was already searching for the keys to his car, locking the vehicle from where it was parked on the side of the road, and you laced your fingers back with his, pulling him into the dark and quiet house, silently.

“I don’t care, I just want to be with you tonight.”

“Then I’ll stay.”

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