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dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years ago

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Going To Disney With The Avengers Gang™ | Planning The Trip

Part One of my "Going To Disney With The Avengers Gang™" headcanon series

Includes: (The Whole Gang) Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Vision, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, Thor Odinson, Loki Laufeyson

Word Count: 3.9k

Relationships: The Avengers x F!Reader, Ambiguous; just how we like it ;)

Going To Disney With The Avengers Gang™ Master List

→The whole idea starts when the team is lounging at the compound doing regular™ team things

→A.K.A Wanda, y/n, Pietro, and Vision are in a pile on one of the couches cuddling, Clint and Nat are across the room playing pool, Bucky is making ramen in the kitchen, Steve is trying to convince Bucky to add an egg or something for more protein, Bruce and Stephen are talking neuroscience and bickering over techniques of spinal fluid something, Thor and Loki are fighting over the remote before Loki finally rolls his eyes and picks up the book y/n had left on the coffee table, Sam is asleep on the floor, and Tony is just tired

→In the madness though he picks up on the conversation happening between the four people on the couch

→“You’ve never been to Disney World?”

→Three rounds of “no” “nope” “I’ve only had a body for a year, y/n. When would I have gone to Disney World?”

→”Okay, yeah, good point, Vis. But y’all would love it. I haven’t been since high school but I want to go again so bad. We need a vacation.”

→Tony doesn’t even stick around to hear the rest, he’s already walking away while speaking to FRIDAY, telling her start pulling up the Disney site and analyzing it, disappearing to his lab and using all of his monitors to compare the resorts and try to decide where to stay that everyone would like (and where they would all fit because there’s too many of them)

→It doesn’t take him long to realize they’re going to need large accommodations

→Bruce is the first to notice that he’s gone, sneaking into the lab and scaring the hell out of Tony

→“Whatcha’ doing?”

→“Ah shit-- Bruce! How are you so quiet?”

→And then he points to the seven open listings on the monitors and explains that the team needs a break and that he heard y/n talking about Disney World and that he wants to surprise the team-- Bruce agrees immediately (the man is always in need of relaxation)-- and that’s how the team’s geek squad ends up playing Disney Dad #1 and Disney Dad #2 and planning the most extravagant vacation in less than three hours

→They have it down to a science after the first twenty minutes-- dividing what needs to be done and tackling it individually while bouncing ideas off one another

→“Do you think they want to eat at Beauty and The Beast Castle or Ariel’s Grotto the second night?” “I’m not sure-- book them both.” “Tony we can’t--” “FRIDAY, book them both.” “You got it Mr. Stark.”

→There’s a lot of Bruce wondering if what they’re booking is too expensive and even more of Tony reminding him that he’s a literal billionaire and that he could buy the Disney company if he wanted to-- that still doesn’t stop Bruce from suggesting more frugal methods from time to time-- it only makes Tony want to spend even more money because you need to lighten up, Banner

→The next person who realizes Tony and Bruce are gone is-- surprisingly-- Sam

→Honestly it’s only because he has to pass Tony’s lab on the way back from his room and he sticks his head in to tell them that “Romanoff and Barton ordered pizza if y’all want any… holy crap is that Disney World? Are we going to Dis--”

→Tony literally grabs him by the collar and tells him to hush it, birdman before pulling him into the room and explaining his plans for the second time-- “Yes, we are going to Disney World and I want it to be a surprise.”

→Sam just nods, his eyes on the screen and his brows beginning to push down and-- “Okay but why are you booking dinner at Mickey’s Backyard Barbecue on the same day that you have fast passes for World of Color at Epcot?”

→And Tony and Bruce blink and are just like “What?”

→And Sam is already at the computer, fingers stuttering over the weird ass hoverscreens while pulling up the page which shows that the World of Color has a whole ass dining experience-- Tony and Bruce have no clue that was even a thing-- and suddenly Sam is the one telling them what to plan because, as it turns out, this man loves Disney World and has been upwards of thirteen times and knows it inside and out

→Thank gods for Sam because these two Disney Dads™ were really shooting blindly into the abyss of trip planning without ever having gone to Disney World-- he has to shift around fast passes, dining reservations, water park tickets, and even the family portrait session that Tony demanded Bruce add

→He shows them all the things they don’t even think to plan-- firework shows, dessert parties, literally all of Downtown Disney-- Tony wants to be mad but he’s too busy picking his jaw up off the floor when Sam manages to book them for an After Dark Party in Magic Kingdom

→Bruce gets so excited when Sam tells him that’s a thing that he almost gives the plan away when Natasha comes rushing to see what all the noise is (it’s Banner jumping up and down like a toddler) -- he has to rush to the doorway, make up a lie about him dropping a piece of equipment, and then walk her back to the common area and play a round of pool with her to keep her questions at bay

→It’s all fine because Sam puts the final touches on the plan and has Tony give the order for FRIDAY to book it all and then it’s ready to tell the team

→They sneak back into the common area, it’s nine pm and everyone just looks so worn out

→Stephen is literally half way to snoring, legs curled under him on the love seat, doing that thing people do when they’re falling asleep and their head slumps and then they spring back awake, repeating the process an embarrassing amount of times but nobody’s even paying attention

→Steve and Bucky are talking quietly in the corners about whether or not they should just go to sleep because it’s Thursday and there’s really no point in staying up any longer

→Clint and Thor are sharing a bag of popcorn and half watching John Wick while discussing the inaccuracies of the movie-- “If he had a bow none of this would have happened.” “Or a hammer.” “Yeah, that too.”

→Yeah, they’re exhausted, and it makes the Disney Dads™ and Sam that much more excited to share the news

→Sam’s twiddling his hands behind his back and sharing smiles with Banner who’s trying to keep his excitement at bay and Tony is rolling his eyes but smiling too and for a moment nobody notices their cheshire grins and nervous foot tapping until finally y/n lifts her head from Pietro’s chest-- who complains at the action and lifts his head too-- and lazily asks

→“Tones, what on earth are you smiling about?”

→And the man opens his mouth but before he can even get the words out Bruce and Sam are already jumping up and down again and screaming “We’re going to Disney World!”

→And the room goes dead silent for three beats-- one, two, three-- and it feels like a million seconds and Tony’s face is dropping slowly and he’s ready to be like sike and then she jumps up, literally stepping on Pietro’s stomach, hurtling the back of the couch like a damn track star and rushing the man at full force, flinging herself at him and jumping into his arms and there are tears streaming down her face and she’s screaming

→“Tony you didn’t! Oh my gods you didn’t! You’re lying oh my god no! Are you serious?”

→And he’s nodding but he still can’t get a word in edgewise because she’s still rambling-- “You heard me oh my gods! You heard me and you did it! Tony that’s insane and reckless and oh my god I love you! Are we actually going? This isn’t a trick? Please don’t let this be a trick!”

→And he just laughs and spins her around and tells her that no, this isn’t a trick I’m not the mischief god here and Loki rolls his eyes but he’s also kind of excited despite the frown on his face

→They’re all excited

→Pietro and Wanda and screaming with Sam, slapping each other and just full on freaking out like children, incoherent and happy and raring to just go already

→In turn this wakes Stephen up who hears the madness and jumps up, on edge and ready to literally fight before he realizes what’s going on and calmly sits back down, nodding his head but not speaking because if this literal grown man opens his mouth he knows he’s going to freak out too because holy shit Disney World-- even sorcerers like Disney!

→Steve and Bucky are kind of confused-- they just barely remember Snow White when it came out but Disney World? They made a-- what is it? A theme park? Regardless they’re excited, ready to break the old men lull they’ve fallen into-- Bucky hears y/n ask if Tony booked water park tickets and gets super excited

→Vision is also confused but he sees everyone getting turnt over Disney World and decides that he is also excited-- Wanda momentarily stops being hyped up to ask him if he’s waterproof in which he goes into explicit detail about how yes, he is and he’ll show her if she’d like and she has to slap her hands over his mouth and tell him to hush

→Thor and Clint also turn into children but they’re the run around the room yelling types as opposed to the stand in a circle and scream types-- the gang is apparently just like fifteen children who barely manage to get things done apparently because they’re all hyped as fuck

→Clint sprints over to Nat whose hands are already up, ready to fight the man off because she knows what’s coming, but he’s too fast and too happy and uses all his assassin training to dodge her kick, grabbing her around the waist and spinning her around until she’s giggling and slapping his back

→“Natty we’re going to fucking Disney World!”

→“I know you lug, I heard Stark too. Let me down!”

→He doesn’t-- he just shakes her harder, cheering with the rest of them

→Thor slumps down next to his brother, nudging his shoulder-- “Migardians are strange”-- and Loki nods but pulls out his phone and starts looking up what’s actually at Disney World and-- “Look, brother, our home… wait is that us?”-- and the brothers get sucked into a rabbit hole of the Norwegian pavilion and whatever the hell the Frozen ride is and why their pictures are there

→It takes thirty minutes for everyone to calm down enough for them to actually have a conversation about what on earth Tony and Bruce and Sam did-- it takes another ten minutes after that for Stephen to finally break through the chatter to ask the most important question-- “Guys, seriously. You can ask about the plans after. The main question here is when are we going.”

→And Tony glances at Bruce and shrugs and is like “Tomorrow.”

→And they all erupt again-- y/n and Wanda because they have to pack and Stephen because normal people don’t just up and go on Vacation, you’re supposed to make time and Clint and Pietro because holy shit we’re going to Disney tomorrow!-- but Tony just brushes the worry off and reminds them-- again-- that they’re superheroes and that he’s a billionaire and that they can go on vacation whenever they damn want

→Cue fifteen more minutes of freaking out and y/n tackling Tony and then tackling Bruce and then, finally, tackling Sam who scoops her up and all but tosses her in the air before thanking her profusely for putting the idea in Tony’s brain

→They spend the next few minutes fangirling together-- Sam raves about all the food he’s going to eat-- Mickey bars, corn dogs, pretzels, those huge turkey legs-- and y/n talks about how she wants to get all the autographs she can-- especially Goofy and Pluto-- and then Sam mentions the After Dark Party and, like Bruce, she freaks out

→Finally Wanda has to split them up, grabbing y/n with one hand and hauling her over to the other redhead who’s still being held hostage by the resident archer and grabbing Nat with the other-- when Clint protests she curls her fingers, warning him with a pinch of red magic, and he holds his hands up, backing away slowly but telling Nat she’d better come see him before they leave

→On the way out Steve asks where they’re going and Wanda almost threatens him too until Nat tells him they’re going to pack for tomorrow-- he then turns to Bucky and reiterates the idea to a less than enthusiastic super soldier who tries to argue that I can pack in the morning but Steve just isn’t having it-- it takes five minutes but finally Buck agrees (but only after Steve says Bucky can just throw his stuff in his bag)

→The girls spend the rest of the night giggling and packing, holding up dresses and putting them down, shoving things in each other's bags and dancing to a playlist of oldies from Wanda’s phone-- Nat is the most boring packer but after some threats to get resident archer involved she gets her act together

→Pietro comes in when he’s done and Wanda scoffs at what he has packed but he only shrugs, slumping on y/n’s bed and giving her grabby hands until she rejoins him

→“But Pietro what if I forget something?”

→“You worry too much-- can’t Stange make portals?” He has a point

→What they all pack:

→Tony: Suits and graphic t-shirts. He’s either rolling up to Disney World in a Metallica t-shirt or a full three piece suit there’s no inbetween. He’s really not concerned about packing-- he can just buy whatever he needs there. After a text from y/n though he throws in a few pairs of shorts that he didn't even know he owned and his M.I.T. hoodie. He tops it off with a few gadgets he thinks he might need-- FRIDAY’s chip and some nanotech-- and he’s good to go. Billionaires don’t need to pack.

→Steve: Clothes and toiletries. Boring, basic, forgets swim trunks until he sees Bucky put his swim trunks and nothing else into Steve’s bag. That’s how he remembers most things actually; by looking at what Bucky doesn’t put into the bag. Along the way he suggests what the super soldier might want to pack while adding a few extra of his own just in case. After thinking about it for a few minutes he adds two books-- one for each of them. He also adds some tools-- a screwdriver and some pliers-- in case Bucky’s arm starts acting up. He’s sure Stark will have something but in case he doesn't, those will hold it over.

→Bucky: Swim trunks. And, when Steve begs, he grumbles and adds a few button downs and henleys. He also sneaks in a few knives, burying them in the henleys. He watches Steve pack for him though and leaves it at that-- what’s the point of packing when the super soldier can just do it for him? He’s not stupid-- he’s tired and Steve is fussy. He’ll have what he needs and if he doesn’t then he’ll just make y/n go swimming with him. Then he won’t need anything. Easy peasy.

→Nat: She’s the most level headed packer of the bunch, spare maybe Bruce and Sam. She Packs what she’ll need-- not too much and not too little. If anything she packs too many of Clint’s hoodies (three). Part of that, though, is her knowing that he’s probably going to forget one. She packs her normal toiletries, making sure to add an extra stick of deodorant and a bottle of Wanda’s red nail polish because-- despite the fact that she spends an hour watching Wanda pack her entire room-- she just knows that the woman forgot a bottle of that stuff and that she’ll be upset if her nails look chipped in the pictures. Wanda and y/n make her pack a bikini despite the fact that she has two scars from Bucky still and they threaten to get Clint involved if she tries to refuse-- “I suggest you put that little black number in that bag right now unless you want some aggressive compliments, you hear me woman?” She didn’t have to be told twice.

→Clint: Not as much as he should. Never as much as he should. He packs boxers, a pair of swim trunks, a few regular shirts and shorts (not enough), a couple nice shirts and a pair of jeans, and his toiletries. He’s gone longer with less but-- like-- he doesn’t have to this time? Nat walks into his room as he finishes packing and takes one look at his bag before marching to his closet and adding a hat, a pair of sunglasses, a jacket, a pair of sweatpants, and socks because who the hell doesn’t pack socks when they’re going to be walking around for days, how the hell are you an accomplished assassin Clint?

→Wanda: She literally packs as much as she can-- think the essentials times three and then some, like five different dresses, two leather jackets (even though y/n reminds her that Orlando is hot), her laptop and her ipad, two pairs of headphones. She has a notebook, a sketch book, and a regular book. Six bikinis and a one-piece. Three hats, four pairs of sunglasses, enough panties to last a month, let alone a week. She packs heels, boots, sneakers, flats, and sandals. Two purses and a backpack. Wanda Maximoff is the epitome of team mom-- anything Nat and y/n forget she’ll have it. She also packs a few things that she thinks Pietro will forget-- a few nice outfits for nights out and his main toiletries. Oh-- and sunscreen! Lots and lots of sunscreen!

→Pietro: Well, let's just say that it’s a good thing Wanda thinks to pack some things for Pietro because this man barely remembers his toothbrush let alone his phone charger. He gets the basics-- the bare necessities-- like three t-shirts, a pair of shorts, some (?) boxers, and like seven pairs of shoes because with how fast this man is he’s going to need them badly. He does, however, remember to pack his bathing suit and that’s more than a few people on the team can remember. Poor baby just wants to get there already-- he can just buy whatever he forgets.

→Vision: A very strange assortment of items. He doesn’t need clothes-- he can make whatever he would like appear on his body-- but he does want to feel included so Wanda gives him one of her backpacks and he puts like kind of random items into it. He sees a phone cord and shoves it in and like a hairbrush-- all items someone will need eventually but not him (later will find out that it’s the cord to Sam’s Iphone and will hand it over and have the audacity to say you’re welcome Samuel after doing it).

→Sam: He packs at least four ball caps. Nothing besides that really matters; he just knows how fucked you are if you don’t bring a hat and he’s bringing enough for the people who forget. As much as Bucky gets on his nerves he also packs him one. Besides that he packs normally-- t-shirts, shorts, shoes, socks, boxers-- all regular amounts. He freaks out a little when he can’t find his phone charger but he’ll just buy one when he gets there. He also brings a Polaroid camera and a shit ton of film-- some of his team members have never been and he will be documenting it all.

→Bruce: He’s the most boring packer and that isn’t a bad thing-- it’s the reason he has so many doctorates-- because he’s smart and level headed. He packs the clothes he needs with one extra of everything. He packs his toiletries. He doesn’t pack his whole room and he doesn’t pack nothing at all. He’s perfectly in the middle-- a Disney Dad™! He does, however, forget his swim trunks-- oops.

→Stephen: One backpack with a t-shirt, sweatpants, and swim trunks. That’s it. Why would he pack anything else? The man can open a portal whenever he needs! He’s always one step away from his bedroom! Stephen simply flicks his wrists and can change and rejoin the group in less time than it takes the rest of them to pull shit from their bags and wait for the washroom to free up. It’s actually a genius play.

→Loki: Despite being the most outwardly unenthusiastic he packs almost the exact same way that Wanda does. He’s a nervous packer. His brother laughs but, like, he has a point. Safe is better than sorry. It’s comical that he packs like five sweaters though considering that he can snap his fingers and make the sweater appear. All his clothes are either green or black. He packs at least one all black suit. Thor has to force him to add a red Hawaiian shirt and he scoffs at it and shoves it to the bottom. Definitely packs three pairs of swim trunks because he doesn’t like putting them one while they’re still wet. He doesn’t even know if he’s going to go swimming but he’s still doing it anyway. He also packs the scrunchie y/n gave him to keep his hair out of the way and when Thor tries to say shit about it he pulls a dagger from thin air and just chucks it. After dodging it Thor asks why don’t you just make your clothes appear the same way?

→Thor: Enough but, like, definitely not enough. The normal things but like less. He figures he’s going to be spending most of his time in his bathing suit anyway. Loki tries to remind him that he can’t go shirtless in the parks (he looked it up already) but he doesn't listen. It really is a good thing his brother can make things appear from thin air. He’s the type of guy to be content in a pair of flip flops and an open button down. He does, however, bring one of those dad-esque fanny packs and somehow he makes it look hot.

→Y/n: Literally packs the same as Wanda, if just a tad less. So many clothes that it’s insane. She, however, has the added bonus of her old Mickey ears-- a pink sequined pair that are a little worse from wear but still pretty. She packs a bucket hat to pin collectable pins to. She makes sure to leave extra room in her suitcase for souvenirs. She’s had her eye on the luxury bath salts from the Grand Floridian ever since the Disney Instagram posted them a few months ago and now that she’s going she won’t be leaving without them. She also packs the strapless dress she’s been meaning to wear for months now-- she doesn’t know who’s going to be there to admire it but she’s sure there’s at least one person who will. Besides, Nat’s been telling her to wear it for ages.

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wonderlustlucas · 4 years ago

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home - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure.” ⇢ pairing hyunjin x female reader ⇢ word count 2.7k ⇢ genre fluff, kind of angsty? ⇢ warnings insinuated that this takes place during covid & that reader has some case of depression/anxiety i literally wrote her as me so like ⇢ summary In which Hyunjin shows you just how special you are.—college!au ⇢ a/n happy birthday to my love, my comfort, my home

What am I doing here?

Unfortunately, there is no one else to blame but herself for being left without plans on this Friday night. Regretfully so, she instead finds herself alone on the upper level of the business building. Scratch that, the whole building, probably – she’s been here since four, and the few students that were once alongside her left hours ago. Initially here to work on an essay, she now occupies her time bouncing between YouTube, Twitch, and Crunchyroll, watching whatever she is feeling at the moment despite Monday’s deadline looming over her.

Sighing, she looks away from a boring page of YouTube recommendations, stretches her neck, and reaches for her hot chocolate. Well, not hot anymore, she realizes with a wince after taking a sip, struggling to swallow the now cold drink. Gaze flicking to the time on the corner of her laptop, she frowns. 9:43. She considers walking home once it hits ten, the unstirred silence of the building starting to prick up her spine like needles. Home, she thinks with an amused exhale from her nose. A too small, overheated double dorm room that technically is a single now that her roommate has gone online for the rest of the semester. Home.

She wonders, briefly, if anyone were to miss her if she were to go home home. If anyone would even notice, anyway.

She wouldn’t expect them to, honestly. It’s not as if she goes out of her way to hang out with anyone, usually opting to cozy up in her room and pretend she does not see the groupchat blowing up with plans to meet at the dining hall, a study session at the library, a trip to the mall. She loves her friends, really, but can rarely find it in herself to actually participate in said friend activities. Sure, there are some nights she actually leaves the confines of her room to join them, but to be quite frank, she’s glad they have learned to simply stop inviting her. Makes the whole looking for an excuse problem a lot easier.

Besides, who would want to go out on a night like this, anyway?

Just as she has flipped to page fifty-three of The Old Man and the Sea, she looks away in boredom, instead opting to gaze out the window. Focusing past her reflection on the tall glass pane, a warm feeling she can only describe as peace seems to settle over her, watching the snow fall like moonlit glitter across campus. The snowstorm had started light when she first arrived, soft enough she could manage with her hood down, dotting her with only miniature droplets of water. Now, though, the flakes are so large she can focus on one at a time as they fly past, covering the ground with a solid two or three inches at this point. In the distance, she can spot snowplows making their rounds to clear the pathways, the route to the business building already turned slushy blue as salt melts the continuous snow.

She sighs, eyes wide like a child as she represses the urge to go outside and grab a handful of it, maybe fall onto one of the lawns and make a snow angel, stick her tongue out and try to catch one of the large flakes. Tomorrow, maybe, she thinks, looking at her grey sweatpants and deciding walking back with soaked pants in this weather would not be the best idea.

So late into March, she cannot help but chuckle at the number of students complaining about the snow and cold temperature on SnapChat, even her friends having to change their plans. She, on the other hand, finds such last chance snowstorm beautiful; sure, she was ready for spring and eventually a break from school, but watching the snow dancing under the streetlights, choreographed by the gentle wind, she thinks it’s something to hold on to, keep her grounded to reality that albeit the stress and monotony of college, such moments like these still exist.

She jumps at the sound of the front entrance slamming closed.

Who the hell? She frowns, annoyed at whoever decided now was a good time to come inside, subsequently ruining her little moment of serenity. Turning red at the thought of some raunchy couple thinking to spice things up in the presumably empty building, she considers packing her bag and heading out. But no matter which exit, they would still see her, and that would be painstakingly awkward. Maybe she could escape into one of the smaller reservation rooms, or at least make some exaggerated noise so they at least know they’re not alone.

Could just be a janitor, or maybe someone else deciding to shelter somewhere other than their dorm to buckle down and do some work, she thinks. No matter who it is and what their intentions are, her leg is already bouncing a mile a minute having gotten used to having the space to herself.

So caught up on how or when she should take her leave, she does not hear the footsteps coming up the stairs until they’re right behind her. Tensing up, she watches in the window’s reflection as the business building’s second occupant steps up onto the platform and… heads towards her. Panic setting in, she tries to decipher who it is through the blurry reflection but to no avail, heart racing at the thought of a stranger approaching her, one of her friends finding her here on a Friday night, a janitor going to ask her to leave.

She turns her head as soon as they stop beside her.

“Hyunjin?” She blurts, taken aback. This was the last person she expected to be here. Somewhat relieved but heart still beating in her throat, she blinks up at the tall boy to make sure it’s really him, brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you the same thing,” he returns, pulling his mask down below his chin and smiling cheekily at her. “I went to go pick up my food and saw you in the window,” Hyunjin explains, tugging the beanie off his head and shaking his hair out, showering her in the tiny droplets. Wrinkling her nose, she takes notice of the Chipotle bag in his hand and how soaked his coat is.

“Here,” she offers, reaching for the bag. Passing it to her with a grateful smile, Hyunjin unzips his coat and sets it over a chair beside her alongside his beanie, wipes the melted snow and sweat from his eyes, and tries to fix his now mused bangs. “So, what are you doing here?” He asks while doing this, regarding her with an amused glint in his eyes.

“Work,” she sighs. Then, glancing to the screen of her laptop and realizing it’s still the home page of YouTube, she grimaces. “Trying to do work. Not really. Just watching the snow.”

“It’s a lot prettier when you’re inside,” Hyunjin comments, following her gaze to watch the frenzy of snow before taking the bag from her and offering a quiet thanks. “But I meant more why are you here?”

She isn’t quite sure what her relationship with Hyunjin is. Having been one of the many acquaintances she barely made at freshman orientation, he did not seem like the kind of person she expected to still be in her life. She wouldn’t exactly say they were close, but she considers Hyunjin a friend, she thinks. After a good month or two forgetting he existed, she randomly bumped into him at the dining hall, recognizing that unfairly attractive face of his in line for chicken nuggets and immediately falling into conversation. Turns out, he was mutual friends with her lab partner, Kim Seungmin.

She does not see Hyunjin as much as she wishes she did. She had not shared any classes with him in the past three years, and even if her friend group and his overlapped in the slightest, it was not always a given that they both would be able to hang out as much as their closer friends do. Still, there always seems to be a random occasion, such as now, where they bump into one another. Each time is a pleasant surprise, of course, and not just because of his pretty face and wide shoulders, but because he has always seemed to care for her in a way no one else does, and that in itself is enough to have her heart racing every time he comes close.

Not that she has a crush on him or anything, but it definitely is hard trying not to fall in love every time he even so much as smiles at her.

Face heating up in embarrassment at his question, she avoids looking him in the eyes and randomly minimizes the Chrome tab on her laptop. “You know,” she drones on, “just taking it easy for the night.”

Hyunjin hums in agreement, opening the lid of his burrito bowl and stabbing a fork into the layers. Even her mouth waters. “I feel like I never see you,” he contemplates, finally taking a bite. His words surprise her. “Uh, yeah,” she coughs, forcing herself to look away before she gets too enraptured over how beautiful he looks even after trekking through a snowstorm, long hair messy but falling over his face in a way that has her fingers twitching to tuck away. “I usually don’t go out with everyone. Not my scene.”

“Aw,” he coos, “I get that. Sometimes I’m the same way, I just want to relax on the weekends after working so much all week.”

Thank you!, she almost shouts, but bites her tongue. She agrees, but even she does not know why she can’t find it in herself to go out and party with everyone else. She’s just lazy, to put it simply. Nevertheless, his words put her at ease, no longer worried that he might think she’s a loser for staying in every weekend.

“Exactly,” she agrees, “parties are fun, sometimes. But I just prefer laying low. I don’t think my friends like that, though.”

Gaze finding his, her heart does somersaults at the smile he offers. “Nah,” Hyunjin says, confident, “no one thinks that. Everyone has their way of having fun. Honestly, all I’ve ever heard is your friends complaining how they miss you and that you would make going out more fun since you’re so funny.”

“Which is true, by the way,” he adds.

She feels as if she is going to combust. “Oh,” she croaks, throat dry, “um, thank you. That’s sweet of them. And you. I guess I didn’t consider that they miss me when they go out.”

Hyunjin scoffs, raising a brow but finishes chewing before speaking again. “Are you nuts? You’re so fun to be around, of course they’re going to miss you.”

“Okay, stop that,” she laughs, burning from the inside out at his compliments. “Just being honest,” he laughs, opening the bag of his tortilla chips. “Want any?”

She looks at him with wide eyes. “Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure.”

“Okay,” she huffs out an airy laugh, rolling her chair closer to his. Miscalculating that he was going to move, too, she quite literally feels her blood pressure skyrocket as her knees bump into his. And he doesn’t move. “Here,” moving the bag closer to the edge of the table, Hyunjin glances at her for only a split second before focusing on his bowl again.

Reaching into the bag, she feels emboldened not only by his previous flattery, but his proximity as well, and scrambles to continue the conversation. “Why are you eating Chipotle so late?”

“Pre-birthday celebration. Also, DoorDash took forever,” Hyunjin laughs.

“When’s your birthday?” She asks, munching on a chip.

“In,” he pauses, tapping his phone, “two hours.”

Oh. “What?” She gasps, blinking at him. “What? Why aren’t you out? It’s your birthday weekend and you’re here eating Chipotle?”

“Woah, okay Miss I-Prefer-Laying-Low. Maybe I wanted to chill tonight, since tomorrow I’m going out? Hm?” Hyunjin chuckles at her scowl, pursing his lips. “Okay, yeah, I guess but—”

“No but’s,” he interrupts, the amused glint in his eyes disappearing, “I’m here now, and that’s what matters, right? I’m lucky I saw you in the window.”

“I guess,” she mutters, realizing her heart has not stopped its staccato frenzy since moving closer, “you scared me, by the way. I’ve been here alone for hours and suddenly someone is walking up to me, I think I shit my pants.”

Hyunjin bellows out a laugh, and such an airy sound momentarily leaves her awestruck. Oh, god, she’s in deep. It’s over.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he giggles, battling her hand to reach for a chip. Even the touch of his long fingers against hers has the entire butterfly population roaring to life in her gut. “Look, I made up for it by gifting you chips.”

“True,” she hums, licking residue salt off her fingers before leaning back in her chair to catch a breather. Too much physical contact and emotion for one night.

“What are you doing next weekend?” Hyunjin asks, taking her by surprise. Again. She thinks she is going to faint if she isn’t able to wrap herself around him within the next fifteen seconds.

“Um,” she starts, then remembers her previous idea of going home after this week was over. “I was probably going to go home next Friday.”

“Oh,” is all Hyunjin says, seemingly disappointed. “Why?”

She grits her teeth. Why? Really? “I don’t know,” she shrugs, not even convinced herself, “I’m bored and lonely here. I love everyone here but I miss my friends at home. I might as well be slightly less bored at home.” Hyunjin frowns.

“Okay, what about this,” he starts, leaning close enough she can count his individual eyelashes and nearly smell the flavor of his lip balm, “you go out with us tomorrow night and if you have fun, you hang out with us next weekend, too. Oh, and whenever you want some company, you text me and we’ll come here or somewhere else and do homework together or just chill. How does that sound?”

All she can do is blink at him. Her initial thought is how dare he try negotiating whether I go home or not? But, there it is, again, she realizes. That extra step he takes, the genuine care he shows her, acting like her well-being is his responsibility. “You don’t have to do that, Hyunjin. I don’t want to bother you every time I feel lonely. I’ll be fine.”

“Christ, you’re dense,” rolling his eyes, Hyunjin sets his fork down, wipes his hands on his thighs, and suddenly leans in to hold her face with both hands, “I wouldn’t offer to sit around and do homework with you when you’re in need of a friend if I didn’t want to.”

Her heart is racing so fast she fears he may be able to hear the thud of it against her chest. What he’s saying is starting to sound a lot more than some friend-to-friend comfort, and it’s making her head hurt, especially with his thumbs ever so slightly swiping against her cheeks. At her silence, he starts again.

“Y/N,” he says, voice dropping an octave, “don’t go home. This is your home, too, you just don’t want it to be.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she thinks she is going to say something, but nothing comes out. There is nothing to say. Hyunjin is right, he has read her like an open book, and he’s here to offer his shoulder to lean on. “Okay,” she whispers, “I’ll go out with everyone tomorrow. And I’ll try and stay here for the rest of the semester.”

“That’s my girl,” Hyunjin smiles, leaning closer and pressing a featherlight kiss to her lips. At first, it takes her by surprise. But then it all starts to make sense. The snow makes sense. Her essay makes sense. Being here makes sense. Hyunjin makes sense. His birthday makes sense. She makes sense.

Outside the glass windows, the wind starts to howl, blowing the composed ballet of snow to its final act, covering the pathways and the streetlights and the roof of the business building in perfect white glitter. Inside these windows, she realizes they would notice if she were to go home.

Why would she ever do that when her second home is right here in front of her?

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chocoholicannanymous · 3 years ago

Text

Gonna Come True (Glee)

AN: This is a follow-up to There's a Miracle Due which was written for the Glee Twistfest, “What if Mercedes & Kurt got Maria & Tony?” back in 2014 (yikes). I had the storyline for this already back then (hello, all of three lines in a document), it's just taken me until now to actually write it.

For @krummavisur who wanted it.

Thanks to @elledelajoie for looking it over .

The title is taken from “Something Coming”, West Side Story.

Oh, and I am not trying to follow any kind of canon time-line. Just, go with it.

Gonna Come True

Kurt throws himself into preparing for West Side Story with an energy that makes Mercedes envious. She understands though – he doesn't feel like he got the role honestly, which is bullshit, but. He still thinks he needs to prove himself. In her eyes he did so during his audition, and it's everyone else who needs to prove themselves to him, but he doesn't see it that way. Years of Lima bullshit stops him from seeing it.

He doesn't drop out of the race for senior class president though, not even when he's complaining about balancing that with Tony and school and Blaine. She asks him why and gets an answer she should have expected.

“At first this was about getting at least something on my resume. But that's not it any longer. I'm running as a reminder that bullying is a problem at this school, and that something needs to be done. If I win – and I don't expect to, not here – then I have a shot at making the administration do something. If I lose I still raise awareness. Every time I speak about my agenda I force the people listening to remember that bullying is an issue, that bullying kills, and that it is not okay.

“That's worth losing a little sleep.”

Mercedes's heart swells at hearing her boo speak so passionately about it, and it breaks as she hears an angry Santana tell Brittany that she should run against Kurt.

Kurt who is currently pulling down unicorn posters around the school while pushing back tears.

She waits until Brittany walks away before cornering Santana.

“We need to talk. What you just told Brit? That's a shit thing to do.”

Santana starts to argue, all fire, and under other circumstances Mercedes would admire her willingness to go to bat for her girl, but not now.

“No. Don't you dare. Do you know why Kurt is so upset over those posters? It's because to him they represent everything that he's been bullied over. And that? Has a lot to do with you. You have been sitting in the choir room for two years, mocking him for what he likes and for who he is.

“So here we are. Him running on an anti-bullying platform, and your girlfriend plastering the school with posters reminding him of exactly that bullying. Do I really need to explain to you why it is that when Kurt looks at those posters he doesn't see Brit's intentions, her meaning – he sees your bullying.”

Mercedes sees her words are hitting home, even if Santana is putting up a good front.

“Oh, and Santana? When you mock Kurt for being gay it makes you a hypocrite. But when you mock him for being 'girly'? It's even worse. Because when you say that there's something wrong with being like a girl, you're implying that there's something wrong with being a girl. And I'm not okay with that.

“Now, you are going to go back to Brit and tell her exactly what happened here, and you're going to make sure that she forgets all about running against him. He's had enough of his so-called friends doing that, I'd think.

“I'm not saying this – any of this – to be mean. I'm trying to be a good friend, to Kurt and to you. But make no mistake. You ruin this for Kurt? I'll ruin you.”

Mercedes might not be popular like a cheerleader, but she's got friends and she's got contacts outside of school. Her threat's not an empty one, and Santana knows it.

Her phone's ringing. There's something hitting her window, and her phone's ringing. At half past eleven on a school night.

Whoever it is, Mercedes is going to cut them.

Except it's Kurt, and he's not looking right.

As she lets him in through the back-door Mercedes notices the wrinkled clothes and the mussed hair that doesn't fit with a night of dancing. More making out, but Kurt doesn't have that well-kissed look. Plus, he's pale and shaky.

Something's wrong.

It takes her a long time to coax the story out of him, about Blaine trying to rape him. Except when she says that Kurt denies it, vehemently.

“Are you serious right now? Are you defending him? No! Okay? No. Hell no even.

“Look, if I showed up at your place and told you Shane had pulled me into the backseat of a car, had tried to get my clothes off and wouldn't stop touching me even though I said no, what would you tell me? Would you tell me it was okay because we're dating? That he's allowed to do that because I'm in love with him and he treats me good the rest of the time? Would you tell me to suck it up and forgive him?

“Would you explain away that and tell me that if he won't respect my 'no' the solution is to say 'yes' instead?”

Kurt's even paler now, his eyes blown and unfocused. He doesn't say anything though. Instead he just whimpers and rushes out to the bathroom.

When he comes back he's regained some color. He still looks like shit though. Mercedes pulls out some comfortable clothes that were bought for her brother, but got conscripted as backup for unplanned Kurt-visits, and leaves him to change while she gets them some chamomile tea.

Later, as the lights are out and they're curled up together, trying to get what rest they can Kurt whispers: “I'm going to have to break up with him, aren't I?”

She holds him as he cries himself to sleep.

The next day Kurt pretends like nothing's happened. He doesn't want to rock the boat before the West Side Story premiere, he says, or deal with the bitchfit Rachel would throw. “I'll do it after the final performance on Sunday” he promises, and Mercedes doesn't have it in her to push him. Not with the memory of his tears so fresh.

Dress rehearsal that night goes well, right up to the point where Artie comes to talk to them after. They need more fire, more passion, he claims and then proceeds to tell them that they should hurry up and have sex before their first show so they can portray lovers more believably. Oh, he doesn't put it quite like that, but it's pretty obvious that's what he means.

Mercedes is stunned at first, and then furious. She's surprised that Kurt's not ripping into him, with everything, and oh. Hell no.

“Are you telling me to have sex to improve the show you're directing? Really? How about you get some classes or something, to improve your part? You know, instead of sexually harassing me.”

Artie sputters out what's probably meant as a denial, but she just talks right over him.

“If you as much as breathe about this again, to anyone, I will report you. And then my mama will go have a talk with your parents about how they've failed at raising you to be a decent human being.

“Do you get me?”

He nods quickly, mumbles something and makes a hasty retreat. Just as he goes out the door Kurt's voice rings out, cold.

“And to think I remember a boy who grieved that his first time wasn't romantic enough. I wonder what he would think of you now.”

Artie doesn't say anything, or slow down, but he slumps a little in his chair as the barb hits home. Mercedes shifts her attention to Kurt and sees pale skin, rigid posture and shaky hands. He's thinking the same thing she is.

“Boo...”

“No, 'Cedes, please. Let's not speculate about whether or not he had that speech with the others first. I can't, not now.”

So she lets it go. For now.

Mercedes is on stage for the opening show Friday night along with Kurt. Not in the spotlight, sure, but still there. She can't help but compare Rachel and Blaine's performance with what she and Kurt can do, and they come up short. Tomorrow night, she thinks. Tomorrow night we're going to show them how it's really done.

She says as much to Kurt as they leave together and he laughs, the first sign of happiness she's heard from him in two days. The laughter dies out soon as he spots a bunch of well-dressed boys waiting outside. She recognizes a few from Kurt's time at Dalton, but not all of them. She'd think it nice of them to come see their friends perform, except judging from Kurt's reaction they're not an entirely welcome sight.

He still greets them politely, smiling that small “company smile” she doesn't like while asking if they remember Mercedes.

“And this,” he says with strained, icy politeness, “is Sebastian Smythe, this year's new transfer to Dalton.”

This then is the reason they're not welcome. Still, she follows Kurt's example and pulls out church manners.

Apparently the boys have been given tickets by Blaine, the tall new boy explains, before trying to needle Kurt.

“So, Officer Krupke? How did that feel, such a...manly role?”

Ouch.

“Oh, you know, it's not about the role, it's what you put into it. And it makes for an interesting contrast to tomorrow and playing Tony. ”

Everyone quiets at that and the mood gets slightly uncomfortable. Trent is about to break the silence, but Sebastian talks right over him.

“Right. Well, we'll have to withhold judgment until after of course, but I'd say you'll have a hard time measuring up to Blaine. And you,” he turns to Mercedes, “are you also playing another role tomorrow? This one's Maria perhaps?”

She nods without explaining, and then listens as the boys stumble over excuses about not knowing exactly who'll be there tomorrow, but “We're sure you'll do great, Kurt!”

Once they're out of sight Kurt sags a little.

“He didn't tell them. He went to Dalton to tell them about the show, and give them tickets, and he didn't tell them I was in it. Didn't tell them I was also playing Tony. They tried to cover it up, but... They were my friends too, and he didn't tell them.”

She loops an arm around his waist and snuggles close.

He deserves so much better.

There's a group of Dalton boys there next evening again, making Kurt smile and Blaine startle. Some are from the evening before, including the sharp Sebastian, some are new. They all applaud enthusiastically, and wait so they can congratulate Kurt on his performance. Mercedes pays extra attention to Sebastian, for some reason, but all he says is “not bad”. It sounds genuine though, and so is Kurt's smile as he nods and thanks the other boy.

Mercedes knows they did better than “not bad”. They were awesome together. She doesn't need to hear it from this reluctant boy though. She's got a better source.

They skip the cast party. Kurt's not eager to be with Blaine, especially since there might be alcohol involved, and Mercedes prefers celebrating with her boyfriend who has been a rock. There's a small sting as Kurt walks away alone, but it slips away as she accepts Shane's flowers and kiss and walks out on his arm.

The next morning Mercedes shows up at the Hummel-Hudson house almost uncomfortably early. She drags a still sleep-tussled Kurt to the dining table and spreads out the Gazette in front of him. It's already open to the right page and she sees exactly when Kurt realizes what she's got.

“You read that, I'll fix breakfast.”

She's brought coffee from home along with juice and fresh croissants from the bakery a block away and a small carton of strawberries. It's a luxury, but it's a well-deserved one. It's the work of no time to put it all out along with cups and plates, and as she does that she hears Kurt's voice rise, reading select paragraphs out loud.

“Rachel Berry's 'Maria' is technically perfect, with the singer hitting every note. Sadly that excellence does not extend to the rest of her performance. Ms Berry fails to provide personality and emotion, and simply put she lacks the ability to bring Maria to life.”

He stops, shakes his head and looks at her.

“Ehm, ouch?”

Yes.

“Blaine Anderson as Tony does not help. Where a better singer and actor could shore up his counterpart Anderson falls flat. 'Flat' is in fact the word that comes to mind most often when seeing and listening to him performing. Anderson fails to hit the notes in several of the songs, and often resorts to what must be described as screaming instead of singing. He lacks the range needed to play Tony, and obviously also the training needed to make up for his shortcomings.

“On the acting side it's equally flat. Anderson's body language and facial expressions are mostly too subtle – or possibly non-existent – to come across from the stage, making it like watching a cardboard cut-out most of the time. On the other hand, when he does come across it's much too exaggerated, making his Tony look like a caricature. (I find myself looking at the playbill to see if this is meant to be a comedic take on this epic show. It's not.)

“Holy shit, 'Cedes!”

Yessssss.

“Finally, the dancing. Here, Anderson does better – most of the time. He clearly favors certain parts of the choreography, and there he does very well. In other parts it is obvious that Anderson lacks either the desire or the ability to perform according to choreography. This shows, as other cast members – including Ms Berry's Maria – often have to adjust their own moves to accommodate Anderson, either because he takes up too much space or because he simply isn't where he is supposed to be.

“Towards the end of the show Anderson also shows a surprising lack of stamina, and almost literally falls flat as he stumbles through some of the steps.

“The rest of the cast...”

Kurt's voice peters off, and he looks at her, stunned. Mercedes only smiles, satisfied.

“You should read on. Really.”

Kurt looks at her with skepticism, but does as she says. She knows exactly when he hits the part she wanted him to see, because he looks up at her, wide-eyed and slightly stunned.

“After this the pair playing Maria and Tony during Saturday's performance – as well as today's matinée – is a pleasant surprise. Mercedes Jones and Kurt Hummel bring our lovers to life in a way that looks more like a professional setup than a high school play. Not only are they both talented singers, but they also manage to communicate the story to the audience and play off each other in a way that lifts the entire show.

“It is noticeable, having seen both sets of performers that like Anderson Jones has some difficulty with the choreography. However the adjustments made to cater to her limitations in no way come off as a lesser version of what Berry performs, and does in fact make her look better than Anderson's attempt at a more complex choreography. Meanwhile Hummel needs no such adjustments and manages to pair vocals with dancing in a truly impressive manner.

“Hummel's vocals could take up an article of its own, and so this reporter will just note that it comes as no surprise that Hummel is pursuing schooling and later a career in performing arts. We are looking forward to seeing him on stage on many more occasions.”

Kurt drops the paper and blinks like an owl.

“Am I dreaming? Did an actual reporter not only attend a West Side Story performance at McKinley to write about it in the Gazette, but they actually went twice?”

“Yeah boo.”

“And they actually wrote that we did better than Rachel and Blaine?”

“Yeah, they did. And they were right, you know. You did so much better than Blaine that he should be embarrassed.”

Kurt blushes a little, then pulls a grimace.

“What?”

“I was just thinking... I've been wondering if breaking up with Blaine over what happened was an overreaction, because...” He meets her eye, and looks away. “Anyway, I'm reading this and instead of being happy for me – for us – I can't help but think that Blaine's going to go ballistic. And that waiting for the show to be over probably wasn't that great of an idea. He's going to expect me to listen to him whine about this.”

Mercedes isn't surprised to hear that Kurt's been considering forgiving his boyfriend. A bit disappointed, sure, but not surprised. He always was more loyal than people deserved. She is surprised that he's being that clear-sighted about Blaine though. That's good. That means he's probably going to follow through.

As if cued Kurt's phone starts buzzing and they both look at the screen. Blaine. Mercedes makes an unhappy face. Kurt... Kurt looks upset and rejects the call before turning the sound off.

“Boo?”

“I am not going to ruin my afterglow by listening to him complain about how no one appreciates him. Not when I'm already going to break up with him. Just, no.

“Instead I'm going to enjoy this lovely breakfast with my gorgeous leading lady, and then I'm going to read that article again and gloat. Oh, and then I'm going out to get myself a couple of extra copies as proof that even in Lima people can see our talent.

“I don't know how you did it, but you, my dear, pulled off a miracle.”

And she has, hasn't she? Not by making someone see and recognize Kurt's talent, though, but by making him smile, wide and open.

That's her miracle, right there.

~ The End ~

#chocoholic fics #mercedes jones #kurt hummel #not for the klaint of heart #not rachel or blaine friendly #i guess

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nbrook29 · 4 years ago

Note

101, 104 and 110 for the dialogue prompts 🖤

Hello!

101. “I’m ok, thank you. Just please, stop talking to me.”

104. “You weren’t supposed to laugh! I’m so embarrassed!”

The 110 one is not included here, but I also got it from someone else so it's gonna be filled later :)

* * *

Robbe hears the doorbell coming from downstairs, but he stays put, knowing his mom is in the kitchen so she’ll open the door while he adds two last sentences to his final history essay. He’s clicking ‘save’ when there’s a knock on his door, and without waiting for a response, Sander’s smiling face pops from behind it.

“I didn’t say you could come in,” Robbe grins at him cheekily, standing up from his swivel chair for the first time in hours. He immediately pulls Sander into his bedroom, looping his arms around his neck as the boy kicks the door closed behind him, licking into Robbe’s mouth in no time.

He feels a light slap on his butt as a response to his words, and then Sander disentangles himself from him to flop dramatically on the bed, a groan leaving his mouth.

“I’ve just participated in the dullest lecture known to humanity,” he complains, pouting at Robbe. “I need you to entertain me or I’mma die of boredom tonight.”

Sander’s pleading eyes make him snort, but he grabs his laptop and joins him on his bed, rearranging the pillows to make it more comfortable for them to sit straight.

“Okay, drama queen, what do you wanna watch?”

“I get to choose tonight?” Sander’s face lights up with excitement and it’s adorable how little it takes to make him look like that. When Robbe nods, amused, he gets a kiss on his shoulder as a thank you before Sander turns his attention to the screen where Robbe started the endless scrolling on Netflix.

He’s a picky viewer so eventually Robbe leaves him with his computer and goes to the kitchen to make them popcorn and grab some chips. It’s where he’s confronted by his mom who catches him midwalk back to the bedroom to gently remind him that she’s staying home tonight and not going out and that please take that into account, honey. And then she shoots him a wink and now it’s Robbe who’s going to die.

Of shame.

Beet red and mortified, Robbe enters his room and at Sander’s questioning look he tells him his mom basically requested them to keep quiet this time. Unsurprisingly, Sander is unaffected, grinning at Robbe like it’s funny.

“It’s all your fault, by the way,” Robbe accuses him, thinking back to last Friday night.

“You’re right, I’m so sorry I’m so good in bed you can’t contain the noise you ma-”

He doesn’t manage to finish his sentence, cut off by the popcorn Robbe throws at him.

“Who’s being a drama queen now?!”

“My mom heard us, Sander, do you understand how embarrassing that is?!”

Sander rolls his eyes and pulls at his sleeve to make him sit back on the bed, careful not to spill the bowl full of popcorn.

Once he has him where he wants him, sulky eyes on him, he frames his face with his hands and says placatingly, “This isn’t a big deal, Robbe.”

Robbe looks very unconvinced so Sander leans in to catch his frowning lips in a kiss to ease his worries.

Then he claps his hands, nodding at the screen. “Look, I chose a movie for us?”

Robbe turns around reluctantly to check it out and cocks his brow when he sees the newest horror that everybody’s been talking about.

“You really want to watch this?”

“You don’t?”

“No, I do, I love horror movies, but knowing you I thought you’re gonna choose some psychological drama.”

Sander shrugs. “I wanna see what the hype is all about.”

It’s a surprising turn of events, but Robbe is not going to question it any longer because he really wants to see that movie. They turn the lights off and get comfortable on the bed, sitting upright for the time being to avoid choking on the popcorn. But Robbe is not capable of having Sander in his bed right next to him and not having any type of body contact so he innocently swings his leg on his lap, scooching a little closer, a small smile blooming on his face when Sander doesn’t even question it, just starts drawing random patterns on his sweatpants-clad thigh.

An hour into the movie and Robbe is having so much fun because it’s just the right amount of scary combined with some weird psycho shit and frankly, that’s his all time favorite combination. He’s been feeding Sander chips for the last ten minutes, his arm absent-mindedly traveling between the bowl and his boyfriend’s mouth as he himself has been completely engrossed into the movie, eyes wide and jaw dropped, not paying much attention to his surroundings.

It’s why he doesn’t notice the slow but steady attempts of Sander’s to merge his body into Robbe’s. It’s only when he turns to him to comment on the latest jump scare he realizes half of Sander’s face is hidden in Robbe’s left sleeve, eyes wide and scared as they peek reluctantly at the screen.

“Sander?”

“Yeah?” he squeaks out.

“Are you scared?”

“No.”

That earns him a doubtful look, and Sander had to realize he’s not very convincing at the moment because his shoulders drop, the defensive look on his face replaced with resignation.

“I have a confession to make,” he takes a deep breath as if he was about to drop a bomb on Robbe. “Horror movies terrify me.”

Robbe blinks at him in confusion. “But you were the one who chose this one for us to watch.”

“I thought I got over it. I was wrong. I was so wrong.”

It’s not that funny. Really, it isn’t. But there’s something about the face Sander is making that pulls an involuntary giggle out of him.

His boyfriend’s not very happy about that.

“Shut up, you weren’t supposed to laugh!” he whines at him, accusation in his voice, and his cheeks couldn’t be redder if they tried, Robbe notices as Sander hides them in his hands. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“I’m sorry!” he pauses the movie and turns fully to him. “I’m not laughing at you, I swear. It’s actually kinda adorable,” Robbe adds in a soothing tone, trying to remedy the situation, but Sander’s not very happy about that particular comparison.

“Great, now I’m adorable, that’s so much better,” he mutters grumpily, and then he ostensibly leans away from the kiss Robbe’s about to place on his cheek in order to pacify him.

“Seriously?”

His question is met with silence as Sander keeps being stubborn, still offended.

“Play the stupid movie.”

“Are you su-”

“Yes!”

Robbe has to bite his lip to keep from laughing again, knowing it wouldn’t be well received. He’s not exactly worried about Sander being mad at him right now because he’s well aware of having a couple of tricks up his sleeve to smooth his ruffled feathers. For now, he resorts to pressing “play” and trying not to coo at Sander’s pouty face.

The movie only gets scarier and more twisted since then onwards. For Robbe, it’s top entertainment, but when he glances surreptitiously at Sander’s face it’s ghost-white, and something tells him it’s not only because of the light from the screen. And it’s not like Robbe actually enjoys seeing his boyfriend suffer.

“Are you alright?” he asks softly, hand reaching to rub his thigh in what he hopes is a comforting touch.

“Yes, I’m okay, thank you. Just please, stop talking to me.”

Okay, still mad then.

Robbe keeps his hand where he put it and counts it as a win when Sander doesn’t swat it away.

They get to hour and 40 minutes, an hour of the movie still ahead of them when Sander reaches his breaking point.

“Fuck, I don’t care anymore, call me a wuss or whatever, but please turn it off, I’m done,” he groans, a pained expression on his face as he brings his legs in and hugs his knees, looking like a little boy and breaking Robbe’s heart a little.

He shuts the computer right away, his bedroom swamped in darkness as a result, only the moonlight creeping in through the big window making it possible for him to see Sander’s pale face. He gathers him into his arms, grateful he’s not putting up a fight and instead eagerly letting Robbe hold him.

“Do you honestly think I’m gonna call you a wuss? Especially in not, like, a teasing way?”

The shrug he gets as a response is miniscule, but it’s there.

He sighs, nosing along Sander’s hairline and pressing a kiss to his forehead which makes Sander cuddle even more into him. Robbe takes that as a sign of forgiveness for his previous unfortunate laughter.

"I kinda know you wouldn't, but... I want you to think I'm, you know, cool and stuff," comes a small voice from under Robbe's jaw.

Awwww.

"But I will always think you're cool and stuff."

"Yeah?" Sander blinks at him with his insecure eyes.

"Yeah."

He places his head back in the nook of Robbe's neck, nuzzling in like a cat.

"Okay."

They're silent for a few seconds before Robbe speaks again.

"Can I kiss you now?"

"Yes, I'll allow it."

Robbe snorts, fingers tangling in the brown strands as he angles Sander's head for a proper kiss and once he's done with him, his cheeks look much more human-like, blood flowing back to his face.

"Wanna watch stupid TikTok videos for a change?"

Sander nods against his chest, a smile on his lips now.

His arm tightens around Robbe's waist as he says, "I hope you're aware I'm sleeping here tonight cause there's no way in hell I'm gonna be alone in bed after this shit."

#wtfock #my fics

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ddagent · 4 years ago

Note

Superstar

SUPERSTAR: Actor/Celebrity AU Part of the “30 Promptathon”.

When Brienne arrived at the production offices of Oathkeeper that morning, it was as if a group of White Walkers had been spotted on the horizon. Staffers were fielding call after call; production assistants were sprinting through the corridors. Brienne’s tea nearly went flying as one of the runners, a young lad named Podrick, nearly barrelled into her.

“S–sorry, Ms Tarth. It’s–it’s mayhem today.”

“So I can see, Pod. What’s happened?”

His eyes went wide. “You haven’t heard? Tarly’s been sacked. They’re bringing in a replacement.”

With that bombshell, the young lad returned to his quest. As her heart sunk into her stomach, Brienne made her way through the labyrinth of offices towards her own cubicle. Her wall-mate, Hyle Hunt, was griping over the sudden change in showrunner. But, then, he had been good friends with Randyll Tarly. He and the other male writers went out every Friday night while Brienne was often left picking up continuity issues in their scripts or fielding complaints from the higher-ups that Tarly didn’t want to deal with.

Brienne was not upset to see the back of him. She was, however, concerned to see the front of the new showrunner.

“TARTH. WRITER’S ROOM, FIVE MINUTES.”

Putting down her tea and last season’s scripts, Brienne merely nodded at Connington. Four minutes later, she was joining the rest of the writers – all-male, all wankers – in the writer’s room. Today they had meant to begin planning season three of Oathkeeper, which had gained some traction over the summer. Now – now who knew what they would be doing.

Brienne took a seat at the farthest end of the conference table while Hyle, Ed, Ben, and Ron Connington filtered through. Hyle was the first to speak. “So, do we know who they’re bringing in yet?”

Connington scoffed. “Probably a woman. The network probably want us to appear ‘diverse’.”

“We’ve got Tarth for that.”

“Tarth doesn’t count.”

Brienne refused to rise to their bait. She had, in the early days. She’d gone to Tarly’s office after work and pled her case more evenings than she could count. But he hadn’t listened. Had, in fact, insinuated that if she continued to complain she would be out on her ear. And Brienne needed this job. More so, she wanted this job. She loathed to think what Lady Alys, based off the great Ser Brienne of Tarth (a very distant relation) would become when left to these troglodytes.

They were still making guesses as to who their new showrunner would be, each more offensive than the last. Brienne caught the tail-end of Hyle’s suggestion: “I bet he’s some snot-nosed kid whose daddy got him the job.”

“Actually, my father would prefer I worked in the King’s Landing Stock Exchange than in television.” A smooth, silk voice cut through the chatter. Brienne lifted her head to see the most beautiful man she had ever seen. “Jaime Lannister. Ser Jaime Lannister, actually.”

The writer’s room went quiet in the presence of their new showrunner. Gods, Jaime Lannister was a legend in cinema. He had produced some of the greatest historical epics, earning himself three Dayne awards and a knighthood for honours in filmmaking. He also had a reputation for being difficult to work with. If he liked you, you would have a career spanning decades. If you crossed him, the closest career in film you’d get is taking tickets at the local multiplex.

Her shoulders sagged. At least she enjoyed the smell of popcorn.

Lannister took a seat at the head of the conference table and leaned back, assessing his new writers. “As I’m sure you’ve heard, Randyll Tarly is no longer with the show.”

“He was a great showrunner,” Connington offered.

“He was a dick who had multiple allegations made against him and had a history of covering up complaints from female staffers. He will not be missed.” Lannister smiled at them; his teeth bared. “You should all be happy to know that I’m a great fan of the show. Well, the source material. I have all the books; read them cover to cover.”

Ben shrank in his chair. “We’re–we’re trying to tell our own version.”

Lannister nodded. “That I can see. The actress playing Queen Cerelle. Has she read the books?”

“Well, we—”

He raised a well-manicured hand, cutting Ben off at the knees. “Get her copies of the books. I want her to have read them cover to cover before we begin shooting. Who is in charge of writing Lady Alys’ storyline?”

All heads swivelled towards the end of the table. Brienne sighed; she had honestly expected it to be longer before they all threw her under the bus. “That would be me, Mister Lannister. Brienne Tarth.”

Jaime Lannister stared; swallowing hard. “The scene between her and Ser Jason where she saves his life from the Northerners. That was you?”

Before she could respond, Connington intervened. “We’re looking to bring Ser Jason back to his sister early on in season three. The audience like the incest storyline.”

“No, they really don’t.” Lannister sunk his hands through his thick head of hair. “I was afraid of this. These books are...sacred. The story of the Blue Knight and Goldenhand the Just isn’t just a legend, it’s an integral part of Westerosi history. And it’s been left in the hands of four ‘dudebros’ and a woman with a degree in Ancient History and a Masters in Creative Writing.” He huffed out a breath. “You’re all fired.”

The table erupted, then. Shouts and insults flew through the air although Jaime Lannister remained unbothered by them all. None of them had noticed the man in the doorway until he began escorting the writers out. Connington tried to put up a fight but his face was inevitably smushed against the fibreglass door. Rising to her feet, Brienne decided to leave with at least some shred of dignity.

She made it three steps before Lannister addressed her. “Ms Tarth, I’d like the proposed storylines for season three on my desk in two hours.”

“But I thought—”

He met her gaze for the first time. If Brienne was a different kind of woman, she’d have sworn his breath caught. “—you’re free to go if you wish, Ms Tarth. But I hope you don’t. I hope you stay here. Stay with me.”

If Brienne was a different kind of writer, maybe she’d have followed her colleagues out the door. But she wasn’t. She stayed.

#braime #jaime x brienne #ship: braime #mine: paragraph prompts #Anonymous

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ayellowcurtain · 4 years ago

Text

What about Sander who is the dance partner of Robbe’s sister, but when Robbe comes pick her op from the dance studio, he meets Robbe. Sander ends up teaching Robbe how to dance because it will be his prom very soon so he would be able to dance with a girl from his school, but eventualy it will be Robbe and Sander going to the prom together and Robbe will show his footwork on the dance floor while spinning Sander around his finger

“How do I look?” Noor shakes her hair from underneath and everything sits perfectly right under her sharp jawline. Her haircut is so blunt and pitch black and Robbe can’t imagine anyone else rocking it as good as she does.

“So perfect.” He answers honestly and she looks at him through the mirror in front of her, blowing him a kiss and Robbe smiles at his older sister. She really is ridiculously beautiful, Robbe can’t even believe it.

Her makeup is very bright for tonight, almost neon-ish with the eyeshadows and the bright pink blush, so edgy like everything else Noor does. Robbe has a feeling that if it isn’t for her to be the brightest person in the room, Noor wouldn’t even want to go. She likes to dress up and be original and weird in a way, but again, she can rock it like very few others could.

“Not that it matters, really…” She complains, sitting closer to the mirror to put some red lipstick on. Britt and her are still in that weird grey area, Robbe guesses. They went out to talk yesterday but from Noor’s behavior and lack of interest in talking about it with him, he imagines not much changed.

“She’ll be there and you’re kinda hard to miss so I’m sure things will move tonight. Or you will. Finally make a move.”

Robbe tries to keep looking at the computer screen, editing the vlog Jens is waiting for him to send back later today - Jens can be extremely chill about everything but he’s weirdly professional about these videos - but it’s hard to ignore when Noor is staring at you, almost piercing through him so he looks up at her again.

“Look who’s talking. I invited Sander to go to prom with me just so you can stare at him up closer, hoping he’ll finally make a move, any move, a word would be a good start.”

“Shut up.” Robbe closes his laptop, feeling his cheeks get red instantly, his work here is done and Noor doesn’t need to see him blushing because of her close friend yet again. He just needed to keep her company, watch her put on her silky and bright purple dress and do her make up, make some small talk to keep her entertained for the long hours of preparation.

“You’ll talk to him today, I don’t care what it takes.”

Robbe leaves her bedroom door open behind him and rushes to his room, thinking that he should take a shower, be a little more presentable when Sander gets here to pick up his sister. He looks at himself in his bathroom mirror and he feels so stupid and small. He’s too skinny, too small, this long hair that Robbe has no idea what to do with it. It’s impossible to understand how he and Noor are related, made by the same two other beautiful and confident humans.

Before his shower, Robbe puts a bunch of clothes on display on his bed, trying to put together the perfect outfit.

Everything now seems too big, too old and worn out. He decides for the black sweater he stole from Noor that fits him perfectly - that’s why it’s basically brand new, because Robbe thinks it’s too fitted any other day - and his usual black jeans that don’t seem too old. He can’t risk a last minute homemade haircut so he decides to keep it long and natural, messy as usual.

There’s no way Noor will let him get away with hiding in his bedroom tonight so at least he has to try to look decent when the time comes.

Sander adjusts his button-up shirt and runs his hand through the front, trying to get rid of any wrinkles, looking up to not get caught overthinking when someone opens the door suddenly for him.

He was expecting someone else, so he’s left with an open mouth and no words coming out of it when he sees Robbe right there, leaning against the door, trying not to trip with how quickly he opened either.

“Hi…” Sander breathes out, knowing he’s making a fool of himself but unable to stop it.

“Hi...hm, come in.” Robbe opens the door wider and Sander walks in, standing next to the door to wait for Robbe to close it.

“Hi Sander!” He hears their mom screaming from probably the kitchen and he looks in that direction for just a second, not wanting to waste his time when Robbe is looking so beautiful right in front of him, with nobody else close enough to interrupt them.

“Hi!” His voice sounds even worse the second time so he presses his lips together, putting his hands inside his pockets, standing on his tiptoes and then on his heels.

“Noor should be coming down soon…” He nods his head and keeps looking at Robbe. He looks too good for someone that’s just staying inside for tonight.

“You’re going out too?”

“Me? No, no...I have to work on some things for Jens’ video so...yeah.”

Of course he’s busy doing something for Jens. Sander looks down and nods his head, happy he’ll be able to get shitfaced with Noor - and probably Britt - and not think about fucking Jens.

“You look handsome.” Robbe says in an almost whisper and Sander looks up over his lashes, closing his hands inside his pockets.

“Thank you. You look good too for someone that’s staying inside on a Friday night…”

Robbe smiles shyly and Sander imagines himself stepping closer, holding his face and finally just kissing him, for hours, hopefully.

They’re only two years different in age but Robbe looks so angelic, so not deserving of the mess Sander is. And of course he’s Noor’s baby brother, so no matter how small the age difference is, it still feels like Robbe is even younger because he’s Noor’s favorite person in the world and she’s not afraid to treat him like a baby.

The thing Sander would do with that boy…

Noor comes down the stairs almost like she’s reading his disrespectful thoughts about her little brother and Sander feels like he was caught so he looks at her, trying to apologize in his thoughts even though he didn’t do anything wrong yet.

He knows Noor would be happy if they just did it already, kissed and got together like they want to. At least Sander thinks they want to, and he’s been almost sure about it for a year now. Noor tells him that Robbe has the biggest crush on him over and over again and if it was only up for her approval or not, she would be so happy to finally see them together but it still feels like he shouldn’t.

It’s just not that easy to make it happen, it’s safer to keep it platonic. Sander wants Robbe to make a move if he wants to because Sander doesn’t want to pressure him to do anything, to make a choice if he feels like there’s nothing to choose, if they shouldn’t be together.

“You two are so weird.” Noor complains, rolling her eyes, standing next to Sander, calling for her mom to come say goodbye already. She holds his hand in a weird way, no fingers intertwined and the three of them know it means less than nothing but Sander still has to hold himself back from explaining, telling Robbe it means nothing.

“Are you going to take the pictures of us?” Sander asks quietly and Robbe looks at him and then at Noor, laughing sheepishly.

“I guess so.”

“Don’t worry, Robbie. I’ll take good care of him and bring him whole later.”

He laughs and Sander smiles, keeping his eyes on Robbe to watch his full reaction, hoping he won’t disagree. He only nods his head and that’s all Sander needed to make this the best night of his life already. Robbe didn’t correct Noor, didn’t say anything against it and that’s all Sander needed for now.

Sander doesn’t mind early mornings most of the time. His sleeping schedule is not the healthiest, he’s sure but he’s happy he’s getting his solid seven hours of sleep every night, it doesn’t matter if sometimes he goes to bed at 2 or if he wakes up past midday, as long as he slept seven hours, he feels good, safe. It’s been working for him, at least.

Robbe is still asleep and Sander smiles, carefully lying back down next to him, moving slowly on the bed to lie on his side, putting his hand under his cheek, watching Robbe sleep with his mouth slightly open, a hint of dry drool on the corner of his lips, his hair a lot shorter than two years ago, but getting longer, with the curls turning outwards around his face.

It’s finally the big day. The day Sander will go to Robbe’s prom as his date. It’s an inside joke that he’s both Noor’s and Robbe’s date and Sander adores Noor, really, but this is so much better.

He planned the perfect day for them, to celebrate Robbe finally being done with school, but they have the morning free so he’s in no rush to wake up his boyfriend.

While waiting he can hear the rest of the house slowly waking up, the muffled footsteps of their fluffy socks to go downstairs, the wood creaking in every step and Sander is happy they are at the very last floor of the house, away from all the chaos.

Noor is probably the last one to wake up and even though she’s on the second floor beneath them, Sander can still hear her electric toothbrush as she hums a happy song and he hears the stupid laughters of her and Britt trying to be quiet while probably making out in the bathroom with the door open.

Sander sighs, snuggling closer to his boyfriend and Robbe finally gives a small sign that he might be half awake. The thin lines on his cheek appear and he also pushes his hips and the rest of his body follows, resting right in between Sander’s arms, his warm breath hitting Sander’s bare chest directly.

“So you’re awake…”

It takes a long but not heavy second for Robbe to answer with his eyes still very much closed, “For a minute.”

He wraps his arms around Sander’s waist, low whines slipping out of his mouth as a silent complaint of how little Sander is helping him move his body closer.

“It’s still kinda early, you can sleep a little more.” He finally gives in, wrapping them both in a mess of heavy and comfortable limbs tangled together, making sure they’re both still covered by Robbe’s weighted comforter.

“I was dreaming about you.” Robbe leaves a trail of soft kisses from the angle between his collarbone and neck all the way behind his ear.

“Yeah? What was I doing? If you’re allowed to tell me that…”

Robbe smiles against his neck, putting his head back on his pillow, finally opening his eyes slowly, blinking a few times to get used to the sunlight clearly ignoring his closed yellow curtains completely.

“You were extremely impressed by my dance moves.”

Sander snorts and that makes Robbe’s head instantly move to look up at him.

“What?” Robbe tries not to smile too.

“Your dance moves?” Sander lifts his eyebrows, playing with the curls cupping Robbe’s ear. They’ve only been together for a few months, but Sander is sure Robbe has absolutely no dance moves.

“I’m a good dancer, Sander!”

“Cutie, I love you so much, but there’s no way you can dance. I can’t dance either so it’s fine! Were we dancing well?”

Robbe doesn’t answer, but he’s still looking at Sander, his eyes moving to see every inch of his face.

“What?”

“You said you love me. Very much.”

Sander opens and closes his mouth. He said these words so many times in his head he completely forgot they never said it out loud.

Everytime Robbe laughs wholeheartedly, or when he snuggles closer to Sander when they’re ready to go to sleep, when he’s actually hearing Sander go on and on about Bowie or art in general, when Robbe is brushing his teeth still half asleep every morning, when he opens his arms wide, sitting in front of Sander on his bike, when he’s a very talkative drunk.

Everytime Sander stares and thinks about how much he loves Robbe. He thought he had said it out loud before.

“It’s not a lie…” He tries to go the easier route first to test the waters, now too aware that he said that he loved Robbe and he didn’t hear anything back yet, still playing with that one curl and Robbe holds his face carefully with one hand, making Sander look in his eyes, “I love you, Robbe. I’m not afraid to use these words lightly with you.”

He doesn’t doubt that Robbe loves him back, it would be impossible to think that when Robbe looks at him like he’s doing right now.

With his soft eyes going even softer, brighter, pressing his thin lips together, smiling so wide that every line to his dimples appear, a bright pink starting to pool on his cheekbones. And Robbe has this thing he does unconsciously that’s between a purr and a pleased whine that he does often when he’s this close to Sander. He gently touches Robbe’s dimple with his fingertips, drawing a line to his ear like he’s trying to make Robbe open his smile wider.

“I love you too, Sander.”

He looks at Robbe and just takes the moment in, hearing him say it back, it feels amazing, but also so very normal. He knew Robbe felt it anyway. It feels like sunbeams during a blue-sky-winter-morning.

The morning breaths don’t bother him when he kisses Robbe, turning his body a little to rest over Robbe’s naked chest, slipping his arm down, trying to lift the heavy comforter so he can fully go under it when the door is wide open out of nowhere.

“My baby is graduating!” Sander looks over his shoulder while quickly taking his hand from under the comforter to find Noor at the door holding a trait with their breakfast, Britt right behind her, smiling shyly, both of them wearing very similar and small pajamas, the same haircut, and Britt follows Noor inside, both of the girls sitting on Robbe’s bed, almost pushing him to sit up right away, ruining every plan Sander had of giving Robbe an early and very nice graduation gift.

#wtfock #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #robbe x sander #sobbe #noor bauwens #britt ingelbrecht

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tbzhours · 4 years ago

Text

be my christmassy

kevin x you x eric, high school au, fluff

[summary] the Christmassy dance is coming up and with both having a crush on you, eric and kevin try to show their love for you. who will you choose? [words] 5.4k [a/n] are you still feeling christmassy? ♡ i didn’t know who you should end up with so there are two endings for this fic! also, there’s a lot of college talks in here so bare with me; enjoy!

It’s usually exciting during this time of the school year because of the annual Christmassy dance. you would hear cheers randomly throughout the week of successful proposals for current and new couples. You honestly loved it, except the glittery decorations around the school that tend to stick onto you and your stuff. Other than that, it also meant that a lot of things are going to happen unexpectedly, like the snacks that keep appearing on your desk since the announcement of the dance.

You and Eric had the same homeroom when another cheer was heard from the door. You were on your way to the class when you got stuck from the crowd. It was probably the fifth time this morning that you took a sigh then you made a detour, taking the longer way.

“So, have you thought about who you wanted to ask to the dance?” Hyunjae started after their gaming discussions after hearing the cheer. He smiled excitedly at them then Juyeon answered him.

“I’m asking my girlfriend out today. My teammates are helping on the field.” Juyeon revealed but Hyunjae slapped his shoulder.

“At the game?” Hyunjae was surprised when he argued. “Dude, you don’t even need to do that. She can already assume you would go with her to the dance.”

Jacob shook his head, looking at him without an expression, which slowly turned into a sweet smile. “You don’t know love at all, Hyunjae.”

Eric wasn’t listening when they bickered, whispering a few names of potential dates then Hyunjae called Eric out, who was caught off guard thinking how he should ask you to the dance. All eyes were on him as he had his mouth open, trying to find words to say.

“I have someone in mind. Not really sure yet.” Eric didn’t sound promising when he looked up and tapped on his chin. His friends shook their heads.

“Anyway, if you can help out later, the surprise will be during halftime.” Juyeon mentioned then he pointed at them. “Don’t be late.”

That was when you walked in, face full of annoyance like you went through a lot trying to get through all of the people in the hall from that successful confession. Eric’s eyes widened as if there was a bubble in his mind when he saw you.

Eric walked away from the group to the empty seat next to you and sat down when he slid into it. It was a smooth move when you noticed him there.

“Hey (Y/N), you wanna come watch our team play today?” Eric asked, almost whispering. You thought it was odd because obviously the whole school would go see them. He was on the football team like Juyeon so before you could greet him like the usual, you chuckled.

“Of course I am. Everyone will.” You turned away from him to see the snack on your desk. You smiled and set it away inside your bag with a whisper of “I’m gonna eat that later”. You didn’t realize Eric heard it and it made him blush. His smile got smaller as he wondered if he got caught staring when you looked back at him. “You’re playing tonight?”

“Yeah! All because of you.” Eric straightened up from his seat and his fingers fiddle in gratitude. “Thanks for helping me with physics.”

“I’m glad.” You remembered how hard that class was but you did pretty well in it so you didn’t mind helping Eric study all week last week during your lunch time. “It would suck to not see you on that field.”

“Thanks for always coming to our games too.” He, once again, felt the need to appreciate you for all of the things you’ve done for him even though it was just a favor.

“Hey, I’m not the only one supporting our school team. The whole school is going to go see the game tonight.” You chuckled. “We have to win.”

Eric nodded with a smile. His cheeks were burning up when he repeated your words, “We have to win.”

You showed your fist to him and he was confused. “For good luck.”

Eric pounded back at you then you got your textbook out to check the reading for one of your classes today. He admired how cool you were as his friends watched the whole scene and knew who he was going to ask to the dance.

One of your classes after homeroom was a beginners piano class. Kevin was an student assistant for the class since he knew how to play the piano and took all of the advance classes already.

There was about four minutes left until the bell rings when you came into the class early. Kevin turned to you from the teacher’s piano at the front of the class and he waved a hand at you.

“Hey (Y/N), you’re early again.” He sneaked a smile, watching you set your things down at your assigned chair then you walked up to him.

“Yes, I need to be here early so I can practice for a minute.” You sounded like you were out of breath. You sat down beside him and smiled. “The new melody last week.”

“You want to try it again?” He asked and you nodded. He motioned his head to the keyboard for you to give it a go. “Go ahead.”

You focused hard as you played the melody, though it was slower than it should be. His head nodded along each note.

“By the way, do you need practice for the upcoming test?” He asked, his nod still complimenting at how your fingers pressed against each key.

“I might, depending on how well this melody sounds to you.” You smiled, trying to not laugh because you could feel how long you were stretching the sound. Seconds later, you finally finished playing and you gave Kevin the side look. “Well?”

“You’re a fast learner.” He started but you covered your laugh with your closed mouth so there were muffling breaths coming through your nose. “What? I think you did great!” He blurted out, almost laughing.

“How so?” You asked with curiosity.

“I’m just surprised at how fast you memorized the melody.” He had a cocky look on his face but it was a pleasant one.

“Of course I am, I can recite all of my essays for the college applications right now.”

Kevin held his palm at your boldness. “Hold your horses, I don’t want to think about that when we’re gonna have a test on Friday.”

“Christmassy day!” You cheered with thrill. “Besides, you’re going to ace it anyways.”

“No, it’s going to be hard to grade everyone.” Kevin cried. You forgot he wasn’t taking the course and you giggled quietly to yourself as if you face-palmed yourself. He sighed and complained, “And all of this Christmassy fun is getting in my head. I just want it to be Friday already.”

“Same.” You agreed. “Except for that test.”

You both laughed together as the room filled up with students and the bell rang.

Later that night, you went to go watch Eric’s game with your friends. It was a little chilly but you had a warm coat and winter necessities as you followed your friends though the seating bleachers. It was already dark as the floodlights through the field lit up. The cheers were loud and in unison. When you found your seat, you saw Kevin with his friends, who were sitting in front of you.

“Didn’t know you’d be here.” You said before you sat down.

“Same?” Kevin had a judging look on his face, still turned back to you.

“I watch the game every year.”

“Uh, I knew that.”

“Sure.”

You bursted a laugh when he turned to the front and it got quiet after your nonchalant bickering. He was smiling after hearing you then he turned back to you.

“This is going to be fun.” Kevin gushed, keeping his hands inside his coat pockets.

“Right. We’re playing against our rival school.” You explained. “Interesting how we get to see them play for our last year.”

“I have a feeling our team will win.” Kevin smiled. “We got a good team this year.”

He was right. Once the game started, your school team already scored more points than the opponent. You noticed that Eric was a really good runner. He was always near each end to get ready for a catch. Sometimes, you caught him looking at you after the ball touched the ground. You admired how well your team always played every year because you could tell they put their every ounce of sweat from practice into the game. Maybe that’s why you always go watch the winter game.

Halftime quickly came as both crowds chanted in unison. Then all of a sudden, some of your school’s team members walked onto the running track in front of your school bleachers. They all had balloons and flowers, and you didn’t see Eric until you saw that he was holding onto a big teddy bear. Juyeon suddenly popped out behind them with a big ‘Will you be my sunshine?’ sign and sunflowers in his hands.

Juyeon shouted his girlfriend’s name and asked, “Will you be my sunshine at Christmassy?!”

Everyone looked around, asking where she was. Juyeon shouted her name again then when she came down, all of the crowd cheered. Juyeon walked up to her as they hugged and kissed in front of everyone and the cheers got louder.

“I thought they’re already dating?” Kevin’s eyebrow rosed, smiling when he looked back at you.

You shrugged. “I guess it makes it a little more special that way.”

“I want that.” He suddenly confessed then he saw your judging face. “What?”

“You want someone to ask you to the dance like that?”

“I have big dreams.” Kevin chuckled. “I wouldn’t mind all of the balloons and cute stuff, except with an audience this big. Gives me chills.”

Kevin shivered and you did the same. “I agree.”

You both shared smiles before he asked you, “You want some hot chocolate after this?”

“That sounds nice.”

Eric saw you on the bleachers as he headed toward the bench where his team was at. He waved with his whole arm at you with the teddy bear still in his other arm. Your smile bloomed bigger as you waved back.

“I never knew about this place.” You were amazed after you and Kevin sat down in the cafe.

“You can almost say, it’s my secret place to go to.” Kevin chuckled, fixing his long strand of hair. He ordered the hot chocolate and turned back to you. You took a last glance at the antique wall behind the barista before you turned to meet his eyes.

“The music’s nice.” You commented and he watched how your lips curled into a grin. “And it’s really calm in here.”

“That’s why I love it here.” He smiled then he groaned. “It just sucks that I might not be able to come back here after we graduate.”

“That’s right. The closest music school is like two hours away.” You recalled as you chuckled. “That really does suck.”

“Right?” Kevin sighed then he gave a tiny glare at you jokingly. “I’m still mad at you for only taking piano just to fill an elective credit.”

“Hey, I’m enjoying the class.” You argued back, still grinning. You rested your chin onto your fist as you set your elbow on the table. “Besides, I think I’m getting better at playing than you.”

“Yeah, and that’s stressing me more over all of these applications.”

“How is that going for you?” You genuinely asked when the hot cocoa was served. You both thanked the barista and you looked back at him with a smile.

“Applied for a few music schools already. Still have a few left before acceptances come through.” Kevin held onto his hot cocoa and smiled cheekily at you. “You?”

“I’m on the same boat.” You sighed and took a sip of your drink. Luckily, it wasn’t too hot so you could drink it warmly.

Kevin remembered about how stressful it was for you already about applying for colleges because it was about choosing your dream of studying out of the country or staying and finding a new dream. He assured you, “Whatever you choose, I’ll support you.”

He took a sip of his drink and chuckled when he saw the foam on your upper lips.

“You want to be santa so bad, huh?” Kevin tried not to drip any hot cocoa from his mouth when wiped your lips with a napkin.

Later that night, you were getting ready to sleep. As you rested on your bed with the lamp on by your desk, you scrolled through your feed before looking at the stories at the top. You watched Juyeon’s story and saw how he proposed with sunflowers for his girlfriend like how you saw at the game. You smiled at how sweet it was before Eric appeared on Juyeon’s next story. Eric was seen practicing his lines to ask someone out for the dance while his team were taking a break from the game. You chuckled and turned to your side. You thought it was kinda cute as you sent the story to Eric.

You set your phone down and went to sleep.

The next morning, you drove a little late to school because you didn’t hear your alarm. You were rushing to school, trying to drive fast and luckily, you made it in time but you still ran as if you were late.

You caught Eric by your locker but when you tried to come through the crowd, he stopped you by the wrist. He was gentle as he came close to your face to whisper. “Sorry you can’t use your locker yet.”

Eric smirked then he pulled you into the crowd to see the whole scene.

Younghoon, someone you knew from all of your math classes, asked someone from your homeroom out to the dance so you had to wait. He was your math study buddy after you both unexpectedly took the same classes during your first year together. He was always talking smart so it was funny to see him standing by the lockers next to the formula letters of + U = <3, in which he was the letter I at the left.

You didn’t know he would have such a big crush on one of your classmates.

Your classmate came by and the two were obviously in love. They didn’t hesitate with their answer and hugged him right away.

You cheered with the crowd, not realizing how Eric’s been holding your hand ever since he pulled you into it. Once the crowd scattered and Younghoon and his date walked away, you made your way to your locker quickly. You opened it, letting the + sign stay stuck on the door of your locker as you set some things away.

Eric was watching your every move after leaning onto the locker on his back beside you. He tried not to laugh when he asked. “Why are you in such a rush?”

“I woke up late so I feel like I’m gonna be late to everything.” You confessed, still scrambling your things back and forth.

“Well, you look fine, except this.” He fixed your hair to the side and smiled. It must have been from running too much. “There.”

Your eyes met and you found yourself blushing a little.

Eric’s eyes bloomed before he grabbed something from his pockets and handed it to you. “And here.”

You gave him a laugh and took the snack from his hand. “So you’re the one who’s been giving me all of these snacks?”

“Uhh did I get caught?” He tilted his head then you nodded at him. He quickly changed the subject, talking too fast that you couldn’t stop grinning. Eric started to walk backwards as he suggested. “Do you perhaps want some hot cocoa? I heard Younghoon’s homeroom teacher is making it for his class. They have marshmallows too. The big ones. Yes? Okay, I got you. I’ll be right back.”

You could see his rosy cheeks before he turned and ran through the crowd. You shook your head and focused back onto your locker. You set his snack down on the top shelf and smiled as you shut it.

During lunch, your friends asked if you were planning to go to the dance. It was already tomorrow and they were shocked that you didn’t have a date yet because it’s your last year already.

“You should make it the best.” One of them said.

Then another added, “I thought you were the one who’s always asking first.”

You didn’t feel like joining in the conversation but if you had to explain, it was because you had one potential date last year. It’s funny because this year, you have two people in mind. You weren’t sure who you wanted to go with since you are pretty close to the two. For a second, you thought this was harder than doing your applications.

“Well, at least you’ll get a card tomorrow, from I know who.” One of them teased.

Ah yes, tomorrow was the day where a card and a chocolate rose get sent to people from their secret admirer by the student council. It was going to happen during your class before lunch. That was when you knew how loud the cafeteria was going to get with the guessing game tomorrow.

You shrugged after getting playful eyes from your friends.

You were walking alone in the hall after your teacher asked you to do an errand for them since you were done with your in-class assignment. Kevin was there but you didn’t see him because you were lost in your head while the printer was going.

“(Y/N)?” You heard Kevin by the front desk.

You looked to your side and almost jumped. “Did you have your head down or something? I forgot you have library duties.”

You both chuckled softly in the silent room. Kevin stood up as you picked up the papers and walked to him. You set the papers down on the table between you both when you continued.

“Must be nice to be in here where there’s no chaos.” You joked. Then you looked at the space in front of the computer screen he was sitting in front of. “What are you working on?”

“Nothing.” Kevin’s lips twisted to the side with his eyes panicking where you were looking at. He shuffled the papers and tried to explain. “Uhh, it’s more like... I’m just making cards for some of the teachers before the break.”

“I should do that too.” You nodded as you didn’t see the beads and strings under the cards. Your lips bloomed when you continued, “Anyway, aren’t you excited for tomorrow?”

“I am.” He mused. “I can’t believe it’s going to be our last dance before we go to college.”

“Same.” You sighed, “Time goes by too fast.”

Kevin shrugged with a cheeky smile. “Next thing you know, we’re gonna be walking down with our gowns.”

“Noooo~” You groaned with your head down then you quickly got up. “Wait, I mean yes because you owe me a homemade cake.”

“You still remember that?” Kevin was surprised because he made one for your older brother, who was also his friend. He graduated last year and Kevin dropped by your place to congratulate him with it.

“Duh,” you pretended to be annoyed but you smiled after. You remember fighting with your brother just to get a taste of it. “I can still remember the taste. It was that good.”

“Then I won’t forget to do that for you when we graduate.”

“Thanks. I’ll let my brother know you're still a baker and you’re doing great.” You let him know then it got quiet with just your smiles. A few seconds went by before you picked up the papers and chuckled awkwardly. “I better get going.”

Kevin grabbed some things on the table and handed them to you before you could make it to the door. “Here take some chocolate, just in case we don’t get any tomorrow.”

Your eyebrow heightened as you assured him. “I’m sure you’ll have at least one secret admirer.”

Yeah, you too.” You both exchanged smiles and before you walked out of the door, you turned back just in case. “Good luck tomorrow.” Kevin whispered, “With the test.”

You could almost see him winking before you walked out.

Right then, you saw Eric in the hallway quietly, as if he didn’t want to get caught skipping class.

He didn’t even see you until the door of the library opened. His eyes widened. Good thing you didn’t open two seconds later because he would have hit the door. You shut it as he slowed down.

“Where are you going, Eric?” You asked. You joined his walk while he tried to avoid your eyes.

“I-I’m just helping Haknyeon with his date. You know, for the dance.” He chuckled awkwardly.

“You’re always the wingman.” You laughed along and turned to him. “Will you ever do an event for your own date?”

Eric blushed nervously and he hummed a weird sound. “O-of course. It just hadn’t happened yet.”

“Well then, good luck with it.” You smiled at him when you stopped by the door of your class. It was just down the hall from the library. “Have fun being a wingman again.”

“Thanks.” Eric smiled as you walked into your class.

When you got home, you were conflicted over who to ask to the dance that you had decided it would be fun to go to the dance with your friends instead.

You set some things back into your bag when the night got deep. You check one of the side pockets after remembering about the chocolate Kevin gave you, then you realized he gave you a bracelet too, as promised from a while back when he got into making bead bracelets. You remembered him making some for his friends and since your older brother got one, you wanted one too. You quickly sent a text of it after getting ready to sleep and thanked him for remembering.

When you went back to your feed, you saw that both Eric and Kevin made a post.

You liked both posts then you set your phone down and closed your eyes to sleep. Your heart was beating so fast that you didn’t know what tomorrow would be like. For sure, it was going to be a busy day.

It was the day of the dance and the school was festive with all of the cheers and sweet giving and exchanges throughout the hall and classrooms as your heart was still rushed in excitement.

You briefly saw Eric in homeroom but he left early to be another wingman for a friend’s proposal. He made sure to meet eyes with you with a smile before he left the room.

As for Kevin, he seemed super nervous during your piano test. You gave him a big pat on the back when you both walked out of the class and complimented how great he did.

“You still look nervous.” You commented, you peeked at him.

“I do?” He moved his head back and scoffed with a confident smile. “Well, I’m not.”

“I believe you.” You smiled, trying not to laugh at how funny he looked. “See you later. Hope you get something.”

The secret admirer cards. Kevin just remembered. Actually, it’s been on his mind all morning. It’s just that he was one of your secret admirers and you were standing right in front of him where you both needed to part ways in the hall. He nervously smiled. “Right. You too.”

You both parted, smiling away and when you got to your locker with only a minute left to get to your next class before lunch, Eric came by, shouting your name. A few students looked and some shook their head from being used to him shouting with his friends.

“What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be in class already?” Your eyes were wide and your lips were opened in surprise. You couldn’t help to chuckle at how nervous he looked.

“I know. I just forgot to um…” He tried to think of something and blurted out, “Say hi to you.”

“Hi~” You played along then you rushed your locker exchanges and closed it quickly. “Better get going. I’m gonna be late to my class too.”

“Take a run! You’ll get there in no time!”

You didn’t know why he was encouraging you to run in school because it wasn’t allowed but you played along with a laugh. You took off and waved your hand at him. “You too! Bye!”

You finally got to class right when the bell rang. Once you sat down, the announcement came on about the secret admirer cards. It was taking a while since the deliverers had to stop by each classroom. You tried to stay focused in class but it was really hard to, and when there was a knock on the door, your teacher walked to it and started to pass the cards to the correct receivers.

For you, you got two.

card 1 i adore how your mind speaks how your eyes shine, and especially how passionate your dream beats against your heart. if there’s room for more, will you be my christmassy?

card 2 roses are red violets are blue how about christmassy? at your side i shall be. (meet me at the parking lot at lunch?)

who stole your heart?

card 1 / card 2

#the boyz #the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #tbznetwork #deobiwritersnet #kevin #eric #tbz #tbz scenarios #tbz imagines #high school au #fluff #christmassy

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mylittlerambledmusings · 4 years ago

Text

The Road-Trip Part Five

Part Four | Masterlist | Part Six

Rating: T +

Pairing: Frankie Catfish Morales x Reader

Notes: First off, Merry Christmas if you celebrate it, Happy Holidays if you celebrate something else, or just Happy Friday if you don’t! I never really expected this to go on for this long, if I’m being honest. I’m thinking maybe one more part and an epilogue if all goes as planned. Thank you again for all of your support, comments, and reblogs. They’re better than presents under the tree! ❤

Warnings: Mentions of death (briefly), cursing, and a bit (okay, still a quite a bit) of fluff, excessive drinking, throwing up, and a very comforting Frankie.

Summary: This was an idea from another prompt. The list is “Whump Prompts which are close to my heart. (If this is from your list, please let me know, it didn’t have a username to go with it.)

Prompt: Hey, hey, hey. I’ve got you, I’ve got you

The following morning you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as you sat on the counter watching Frankie make breakfast as you drank your coffee. Marvin was leaning against his leg whenever he stopped moving for more than thirty seconds and Flex was letting you use him as footstool. You chuckled into your cup when Marvin tripped up Frankie for the tenth time this morning. He never got mad about it, just huffed a little and stepped around the big dog and then narrowed his eyes at you. “Something funny, hermosa?”

You bit your lip in an attempt to hold back your smile and shook your head. “Nope,” you responded, stealing a piece of bacon and taking a bite all while holding his eyes.

He grabbed up a piece and broke it in two, then threw them to the floor, using the distraction to slip between your legs. He pressed a kiss to your lips and then turned his head to steal a bite of your bacon with a smirk. You held out your cup to him and he took a sip and then narrowed his eyes again. “Are you trying to distract me from the fact you were laughing at me?” he asked, placing the cup he’d taken from you off to the side on the counter.

“I would nev-” you cut yourself off with a laugh as Frankie pressed his face into the crook of your neck nipping at the bare skin, his mustache tickling you as his fingers did the same to your sides. “Okay. Okay! Yes.”

“Yes what?” Frankie asked, nipping once more, chuckling against your neck when you jumped.

“I was laughing at you!”

“Was that so hard, hermosa?” He lifted his head and before you could react, he stole the rest of your bacon with his teeth, winked and backed away. You made a face at him and threw your leg out trying to kick him, which he dodged expertly, laughing as he went back to the stove. "Is this what I have to look forward to every morning?” You asked, grabbing another piece of bacon.

“You telling me you’re only moving in for the food?”

You laughed and reached out, grabbed his arm and pulled him back to you. You pressed your lips to his, gently running your nose along his when you broke off the kiss. “The food is just a bonus.” Your voice was quiet and more serious than either of you had expected. He leaned back a bit so he could see your face, the worry in his eyes fading away when he took in the look on your face. You licked your lips as your eyes dropped to his chest, a sudden shyness you hadn’t felt since the beginning of your relationship coming over you.

Frankie tilted your chin up with two fingers and smiled softly at you. He slipped that hand from under your chin, to cup the back of your neck, his eyes bouncing back and forth between yours. “Whatever you want, hermosa, it’s yours. You know that, right?”

You dropped the uneaten piece of bacon onto the counter and cupped Frankie’s cheeks, pulling him back to you. Your lips pressing together in a kiss that deepened the moment he opened his mouth. His grip on you tightened and he pulled you to the edge of the counter as your kiss got more and more heated. That was until there was a knock at the door, and then another, and another.

You broke apart like you were high schoolers that had just been caught by your parents, you stared at each other for a moment before you both started laughing. The serious moment broken by Benny who was now yelling and banging on the door.

Frankie moved back in for another kiss, this one sweeter, less frantic than before, only breaking it when his smile got too big. When he met your eyes he winked, straightened, and yelled something out in Spanish as he went to answer the door.

You took that moment to compose yourself and quiet down the dogs who had started barking while Frankie let in the guys. You slid down off the counter, meeting Pope for a hug as you took in the four of them. They all looked a little bruised but seemed to be moving as smoothly as Frankie had been, considering what had happened the night before.

You made everyone coffee and the five of you moved to the back porch with Benny sitting on the floor, forgoing a chair so he could play with Flex. Frankie pulled you down to sit on his lap as the others sat in the deck chairs, Marvin sitting beside him and leaned against his leg. The conversation flowed just as easily as the day before, this time the questions were directed at you and Frankie. How the two of you met -which only Pope had heard- how long you’d been together, and of course when were you two tying the knot, as Benny put it.

Frankie had huffed, tossing the tennis ball at the other man as he said. “Damn, Benjamin, don’t scare her away, I just got her to agree to move in with me.”

You’d smiled down at him and him at you, which, of course, had started the mixture of jabs and obligatory congratulations. Pope had gotten up, pulling you and then Frankie into a hug, telling the man it was ‘about damn time’.

The morning continued on this way until Pope spoke up and said that he and the guys had talked about it and they’d decided they’d rather spend the evening here. They’d go to town and buy up everything they’d need for a cookout and then they’d bring it back and set up the fire pit and grill. His reasoning was that it was easier and less of a chance of someone getting arrested tonight.

You’d all gotten a good laugh at that, but you knew that none of them regretted one moment of last night. They’d done it to protect someone and honestly, you were glad they had. It just proved that they were the men that Frankie had told you they were.

~*~

Frankie had taken the dogs and went with everyone else to town to get ready for the night ahead, which had left you blissfully and completely alone. You’d taken your time in the shower, gotten dressed in your most comfortable jeans, and had even let your hair in the messy bun you’d been sporting that morning.

By the time you’d come out of the bathroom the guys were back and setting everything up outside. You went out and asked if there was anything you could do to help, which resulted with you and Frankie in the kitchen, while the other three tried to figure out how the grill worked.

The two of you worked side by side, seasoning the steaks and burgers that the men had picked up and placed them on trays to make it easier to carry outside. You could feel his eyes on you and instead of asking what he was staring at, you just hip checked him as you took one of the finished trays to the fridge. The moment you’d set the tray down he reached out, caught you around the waist, and pulled you back to him. You gave a surprised yelp but went willingly. He pulled your hair back so he could press a kiss to your neck and then your cheek. “Thanks for being alright with us staying here tonight,” he said softly.

“Hey,” you whispered and turned in his arms. “You know I don’t mind… Plus, I like them. And you’re not going to hear me complain when I get to spend more time with you.”

“Let’s see if you’re still saying that three months from now once you’re stuck with me all the time.”

You shook your head as you pinched his side. “It’s not going to be all the time,” you pointed out. “We’ve still got our jobs. We’ll just be able to come home to each other and I really like the sound of that.” He smiled down at you and pressed your lips together. You broke off the kiss almost as soon as it started and frowned up at him. “But who’s to say you won’t get tired of me after three months?”

He scoffed and shook his head and instead of verbally answering he just kissed you again.

You’d just started to melt into his arms when you thought you heard the door open, but you weren’t really paying any attention to it until you heard Benny say, “If you two lovebirds are done in here, we might need some help with that grill.”

~*~

With the four of them, they’d finally got the grill to work and Will had started cooking, filling the grill up with more food than you thought they could possibly eat. Frankie and Pope had gone to collect some wood for the fire pit while you watched Benny throw the tennis ball for Flex. Marvin on the other hand, was leaning into your legs as you rubbed his head. You figured he still wasn’t sure about the younger Miller brother, and that was why he was sticking to you and Frankie like glue until he was.

Frankie and Pope got back just in time to get the firepit started before it started getting dark and after they’d got that going, the five of you sat around it just eating and sharing stories. You’d gotten to hear about Tom, their old captain and friend that they’d lost on the last trip that they’d taken together. When the mood got to be more than a little melancholy, you changed the subject to lighter things and in no time the men were back to themselves and laughing and joking with each other. Frankie had held you a little tighter, whispering a thank you in your ear as he pressed a kiss to your temple while the other men were distracted.

It went on like that for a little while longer until Benny pulled a deck of cards out of his back pocket. You couldn’t have known that that meant trouble, but when he’d suggested you all play the game Kings none of you all had any better ideas and it had seemed innocent enough, so you all had agreed. He had laid out his phone with the rules and placed the deck face down on the middle of the table set up outside. It had started off simple, Pope drew a six, which meant all the girls -you- drank. You drew a five, which meant all the guys drank. Each card stood for something like questions or tasks and it felt like every time a card was flipped you were having to drink for some reason or another. Before long the majority of the bottle Pope had brought was over halfway gone and you were more than a little tipsy.

While you didn’t want to be the first to drop out of the game, even your normally competitive side was waving a white flag of defeat. You were sitting on Frankie’s lap when you announced you were done, which was quickly followed by Will, Frankie, and Pope. It was more than you’d drank in a long time and you were definitely feeling it. That wasn’t exactly a good thing either.

Frankie rubbed your back as he leaned forward to look at you. “You good, hermosa?” he asked and you could almost swear you heard concern in his tone.

You nodded, which was a mistake because all that did was make the space around you start to spin. You closed your eyes, fighting off the nausea, your hand going to Frankie’s shoulder for balance. When you’d finally got yourself under what you considered control, you slid your hand up from his shoulder to pat his cheek. “Yeah, baby, I j-just need some water.” After taking a deep breath, you opened your eyes and gave him a lazy smile.

It took you a few tries but you finally stood, swaying slightly until Frankie’s hands gripped your sides. “Yeah, I don’t think so,” he said, standing up behind you, his firm grip keeping you vertical. “I think it might be time for bed. You guys are more than welcome to crash here.” You heard some sounds of agreement but before you could chime in, letting them know you were good with it too, Frankie was steering you towards the house.

About five steps away from the door was where your stomach revolted with the amount of alcohol you’d consumed and you doubled over, emptying the contents of your stomach on the ground. Your knees had almost given out but a pair of strong arms wrapped around you and held you up.

“Hey, hey, hey. I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Frankie said, comforting you as you threw up everything you’d eaten for the past twenty-four hours. You hadn’t gotten this drunk since college and now you were kind of remembering why.

The rest of the night was pretty much a blur, only a few things sticking out that you actually remembered. Frankie holding your hair back as you threw up again in the bathroom -at least making it to the toilet this time-, Frankie carrying you back to bed and helping you change into one of his t-shirts, and then Frankie telling you if you felt sick all you had to do was lean over the side of the bed because the trashcan was right there. You vaguely remembered apologizing for ruining the night but couldn’t remember what he’d said in return, only that he’d gotten you to drink a little bit of water before you passed out completely.

~*~

You woke with a groan, on your stomach facing away from the warm body behind you. The bed shifted slightly as Frankie tucked your hair behind your ear then ran the backs of his fingers down your cheek. You didn’t dare try to move yet, you already felt like death and you’d barely opened your eyes. “Oh, God…”

“Are you alright, love?” Frankie asked, gently rubbing your back.

Instead of using your words, you just groaned again and risked turning your face toward him, then pressed your face into his hip effectively blocking out the sun that had started coming through the windows. He huffed a short laugh as he ran his fingers through your hair. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“Did you sleep?” you rasped after a blissful ten minutes of silence. He didn’t answer you but you knew he was awake because he was still rubbing your back. You chanced leaning back just enough to crack an eye open to look at him.

When he just gave you a sheepish look, you made a noise of and pressed your face back against his warm hip. “Frankie…”

“I’d apologize, but we’d both know I was lying.” Your eyes weren’t even open but you could hear the shrug in his voice. You lifted your hand to pat his chest and smiled against his hip when he threaded your fingers together. “I didn’t want to risk you rolling on to your back or me getting trapped in a…”

He trailed off when you squeezed his fingers and nodded against him. “I know, baby.”

“I’ll sleep tonight, hell, maybe I’ll even take a nap today.”

“Nap sounds good,” you agreed, smiling when he chuckled, until it started shaking the bed and you groaned.

“Shit! Sorry, sorry,” he said, quickly getting himself under control.

~*~

When you woke again, the bed was empty and you were feeling marginally better than roadkill. You cracked an eye open just in time to see a shirtless Frankie walk through the bedroom door.

“Alright, hermosa, time to get up,” he said, carefully sitting on the bed. You blinked up at him and frowned, but he was there and helping you up before you could even object.

With his help he led you to the bathroom where you saw the clawfoot tub over halfway full of steaming water. You turned your head to raise a questioning eyebrow at him and he smiled...No, smirked at you.

“The guys are gone.” His hands turned you again towards the sink where your toothbrush and toothpaste were waiting for you. The man was an absolute godsend, because your mouth? Yeah, you weren’t going to think about that. “And I just want to take care of you. So a bath, then maybe some toast, water, ibuprofen, and then you’re going to relax until you feel better.” He gathered your hair so he could place a gentle kiss right where your jaw met your neck. You shuddered as you watched him in the mirror and smiled when all he did was meet your eyes in the mirror and winked.

Once your teeth were brushed and you’d stripped down, you tested the water with your fingers and then climbed inside the tub. You couldn’t help the moan as you lowered yourself to sit. The water was hot and relaxing as hell. How had you managed to get so lucky finding the man in front of you? You couldn’t answer that, but you sure as hell weren’t going to take it for granted either.

You reached out to run your wet fingers down Frankie’s stubbled cheek as he kneeled beside the tub and smiled when he pressed a kiss to your palm. He took your hand in his and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “Thank you, Frankie,” you said softly.

“I told you, mi sol, anything for you.”

Tag List: @cxnnxrmar

#Triple Frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #The Road-Trip #Frankie Morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie catfish morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x you #pope garcia #santiago pope garcia #benny miller #ben miller #will miller #william miller #drinking #fluff

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badmcuposts · 5 years ago

Text

Mini-Tony

For: @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Gifted to: @floweryfran

Warnings: none?

“Tones, drop the act.” Rhodey ordered vaguely, storming into the lab as if he owned the place.

“What act?” Tony asked, less confused and more dismissive about the assertion that he would dare put up an act. That would take a lot of work he didn’t want to put in. The man kind of had a planet to constantly defend, you know.

Rhodey sighed, sitting down and putting on his serious face. “We all know you cloned yourself.” He spoke.

At the moment, Tony thought it had been a joke, since it so obviously had to be. But, his friend only continued until it all became far too alarming for Tony to ignore.

“I mean, really, Tony? This is a major federal crime! You know you could get the FBI called on you for this? Why would you be so reckless? How could you? It’s... it’s mad! You’ve really lost it, man. Come on, just let it go!”

Tony stared at his former MIT roommate, dazed and confused as he contemplated the sanity of the man before him. What was Rhodey on?

“Okay,” he began, “not entirely sure how I’m supposed to break this to you, but I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

In a shock, Rhodey’s body twitched, a visceral reaction to what Tony saw as a completely normal response to being accused of human cloning. “You... you didn’t clone yourself?” He questioned idiotically.

“No, I didn’t fucking clone myself!” Tony relented as he began to sardonically laugh, “What would make you honestly believe that I would do such a thing?”

At that, his friend went quiet. Tony watched the shy blush creep onto Rhodey’s cheeks, a deep and red tint running down his neck like a historically accurate thanksgiving. The colonel’s brown eyes looked up into the sky, as if searching for a way out of the situation on the celling.

Abruptly, he mumbled something incoherent under his breath.

“What?” The billionaire in the room tentatively asked, still laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Was he okay?

“Peter...” Rhodey murmured again, now audible, whether he wanted to be or not. That’s it, Tony thought, he’s lost it.

“Did... did you say Peter?” He asked again, more to himself than the other man. There was no way, absolutions no way, that Rhodey had actually just said the kid’s name.

“Yes! Peter, okay?”

Tony stood, shell shocked. “What... what does m-the kid have to do with you accusing me of breaking federal law and cloning myself in my private lab without shame?”

“It’s just- god it sounds so stupid now- he’s like... a mini-Tony.” Rhodey relented, his blush deepening quickly under the scrutinizing gaze of his best friend.

“A mini-Tony?” The man repeated, monotonic and blank in the face.

“Yes!” Rhodey shouted, “Stop tormenting me, you doofus. It’s a perfectly reasonable concern.” At the zenith of his mockery, Tony dies down, suddenly more interested in the how.

“You... you noticed that the kid and I have a few vague similarities and decided it meant I had cloned myself? Are you okay?” He asked.

Rhodey gasped, and initiated a debate nor mortal could ever be prepared to wage.

“It is not a few vague similarities and you know it! He’s exactly like you. The curly brown hair, the deep eyes, the general figure, the-”

“You’re describing every American male of Italian descent within a five-hundred mile radius.”

“It’s not just the looks, though. He acts just like you! I mean, his IQ has to be-”

“If you dare accuse my intellect of being equal to that of a sixteen year old child I am going to lose it.”

“Oh, stop being so grumpy about it! You know I’m right.”

“Boss,” FRIDAY finally interrupted, saving them from their fall from grace over such a trivial disagreement, “It appears that Captain Rogers is attempting to enter the lab. Should I approve him access or would you prefer some mid-afternoon entertainment by allowing him to attempt to break the cap-proof glass?”

“Eh, let him in.” Tony motioned, watching as the sleek, modern doors of the lab slid open to reveal a red-faced Captain America.

The man almost seemed... livid? Loathsome? Whatever emotion it was, it wasn’t good. “Old man probably broke his hip or something if he’s this interested in getting into my one room of peace and quiet.”

Steve entered, snarling in his elderly fashion. “Tony, I’m going to ask this once and pray to mother Mary that your answer is a resounding no.” “Ooooo, threatening. What’s up, buttercup?” Tony jested, a resoundingly low-effort reaction as the genius felt as though he no longer could be phased by his teammates’ quarrels.

“Did you give Sam my shield?” Steve asked, his eyebrows quirking subjectively.

Tony was confused. “What? No. Why would I give Sam your... oh god.” Suddenly, all at once, pieces in Tony’s mind began to place themselves together in one all too real puzzle of comprehension.

Steve grew worried at his own lack of context, as Rhodey followed suit in the paranoia. “What? What did you do, Tony?”

The man squeaked. “I- I think the kid might have done it.”

And that was it, he’d sealed his fate in Rhodey’s eyes. The other man began to seethe, smoke nearly bellowing out of his ears as his chance at glory was redeemed.

“DO YOU SEE WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT, TONY? DO YOU?”

“He said he wanted to play a prank, he didn’t say anything about giving Capsicle over there’s shield to the one person that would almost definitely try to destroy it for fun.” Tony shrugged, hoping to move the attention away from himself for the moment being.

Steve looked estranged. “Wait- what were you talking about?” “The kid!” Rhodey earned him in, “Isn’t he just like Tony? It’s like he cloned himself!” “I didn’t fucking clone myself, platypus.” Tony interrupted, only to be cut off by an extra presence in the room.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?” Peter asked, jovial as ever in his youthful stride. Of course, that didn’t last too long, as the boy was quickly stopped dead in his tracks by an onslaught of demands.

“Did you give my shield to Sam?”

“What’s your IQ, kid?”

“Pete, run!”

Peter stood still, confused and dazed by the screaming in his face. “Oooookkkaaayyyyyy. I’m gonna take this as my sign to kindly remove myself from the situ-”

“No! No you don’t, Parker.” Rhodey interjected, “You’re gonna entertain us for a little while, alright?”

Peter’s eyes grew wide. “Mr. Colonel Rhodes Sir, I have no idea why I’m being interrogated but if this is about the shield thing I can-”

“No, no, Peter. We just want to talk.” Rhodey said, unconvincingly, “Come on, sit down. It’ll be fun, some nice little bonding time with the newest addition to the team.”

Peter looked back to his mentor for support, only to find a blank face of fear and desperation. He knew there was no escape. “Okay.” The teen agreed.

“Great, now, where are you thinking about attending college?”

“What?” Peter asked.

Tony shrugged his shoulders at it all. “Just answer their questions, Pete. He won’t give up.”

Peter quickly accepted that as as much of an explanation as he was going to get any time soon, and lamented. “Uhhh MIT?”

“Good, good. And how’s your sleep schedule?” Rhodey continued.

Peter scoffed. “It’s there, I guess.”

Steve’s eyes began to grow. Oh god, Tony thought, he’s being indoctrinated. Rhodey kept it up. “Vague. I like it. Do you have any friends at school?

Peter made an off kilter face at that. “Just my best friend, Ned, and my girlfriend. I’m not much of a people person.”

“And you’re an orphan, right?”

Suddenly, Peter grew completely tense, obviously uncomfortable with the question. “Woah, dude. Not cool.”

“It’s not personal, I’m just curious.” Rhodey quelled, “You can not answer if that’s more comfortable.”

Peter calmed a bit at that. “No, no, no, no, no. I’m fine, it’s just- yeah. Yeah. I’m an orphan. Whatever. Keep going.”

Rhodey leaned in on the new path of questioning. “And what all do you know about that- the murder, that is?”

Peter laughed a little, switching into a jokind manner. “Is this a police thing? Do you think I killed my parents?” “If I give you context, it will sway your answers.” Rhodey joked back, but he wasn’t joking.

“Plane crash.” Peter said. “Some kind of set up. The- uh- SHIELD people said it was HYDRA but that’s still sort of up in the air. Cold case and all.”

“Okay, thank you. And what about-”

“Nope, stop torturing him.” Tony interrupted, “Kid, run for it.”

Peter laughed as he got up and began to walk away from the colonel. “I’m still so confused.” He expressed.

Tony felt like it was necessary to key the boy into the situation. “Rhodey over there that thinks I cloned myself and that you’re secretly an illegal recreation of my DNA sequences.” He explained.

At that, Peter looked the other man over, before leaning in towards his mentor to quietly whisper “Is... is he okay?”

Tony breathed out in relief at the boy’s nonchalance. “I have no idea.”

Steve caught into the conversation, adding his own two cents. “For the record, I’m on Rhodes’ side now. You too are the same person.”

“He’s sixteen!” Tony complained:

“Yeah!” The boy agreed, quick as lighting, almost as if by reflex. “And he’s, like, thirty.” “Oh, god, I am so happy you just called me thirty.” Tony gasped.

Rhodey mused in his small sextor of the complete bliss one should find when faced witn a minor victory. “Point is, same person.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “You two are exhausting. I had one night stands back in my partying days that had more sense than you guys do. Come on, Peter, let’s go get ice cream.”

“Can we get Burger King, instead?” The teenager chirped.

The man perked up at the notion. “I love Burger King!” “Yes! Let’s go, Mr. Stark, I have no idea what they’re talking about.”

“Polar opposites, you and me.”

“Yep! Polar opposites!”

#marvel #mcu #avengers #marvel cinematic universe #tony stark #robert downey jr #irondad #my fics #peter parker #rhodey #colonel james rhodes #james rhodes #steve rogers #avengers endgame #chris evans

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primasveraas-writing · 4 years ago

Text

Finnpoe Modern AU- Single Dad!Poe- PART 3

AHH here it is!! I’m really happy with how it turned out; thank you again to the darling Eliane who sparked the orginal idea. The brunt of the story is done, but I hope (and suspect) that I will be returning to this AU soon, in the form of more headcanons or one shots.

I hope you enjoy! All requests are currently open.

Part One l Part Two l Part Three

XXX

Poe buys Finn a drink

...then Finn buys Poe a drink, then Poe buys them both drinks because Finn is on a teacher’s salary and the only gay bar within a reasonable distance gets away with overpriced beer

Poe learns rather quickly that Finn is more than just an incredibly attractive teacher who’s good with his son- Finn is also shy, and humble. Kind and honest. Slightly giggly when tipsy and rather close in proximity after 3 beers

There comes a point when Poe’s chest aches from laughing and he almost puts his hand on Finn’s knee- he almost leans in- then he remembers himself

Buying his son’s teacher a beer is fine- he likes Finn and so does BB

Kissing his son’s teacher is an entirely separate matter

Poe clears his throat abruptly, and he can feel the heat rushing to his already-warm cheeks as he straightens, pulling away from the other man

Finn pulls back too, a split second of hurt flashing across his face

“I’m sorry,” Poe says thickly, wondering how quickly he can flee the scene without seeming like a total ass, and Finn shakes his head

“Don’t worry about it,” Finn says, unable to fully meet Poe’s eyes. “I should probably get back to Rey, anyways”

Finn stands, and Poe blurts out “it was good to talk with you-” before he can think any of it through

Finn stops, turning back to look at him. He smiles, briefly, then says: “it was”

Poe is still sitting at the bar when Rey and Finn leave

Poe pretends he’s not watching them go

The upside to the next day is that his hangover is very mild, and that BB waits until 7am to wake him up instead of jumping into Poe’s bed at his usual 6am

Small blessings, even on a Saturday

They have a good day, and Poe is able to bury all his worries and regrets about Finn until BB does his homework

(he has to color in a hand turkey and he and Poe are both covered in glitter and ink by the end of it)

But the craft is enough for BB to start talking about school, which he does, pieces of glitter falling to the floor one by one as he signs

We do lots of art in Luke’s class and Finn helps me. He is nice and he brings in candy sometimes. He never rushes me or worries like Mr. C does and he is learning ASL very fast and sometimes he lets us stay out for recess for an extra three minutes and he will push us on the tire swing-

So Poe adds to his list of the way he can describe Finn- adored by his son. Generous. A total sucker for cute kids. Endlessly patient, a quick learner, a sweet tooth… off-limits.

What does he know about Finn, from a few hours of talking and stories from his son? Is it enough to justify his pining?

It doesn’t matter, in the end. At best, he and Finn are friends, and Poe has only BB’s best interests in mind- everything else is secondary to his son

The guilt and ache fade, for the most part. He sees Finn here and there, and the two men keep it friendly and brief

At parent-teacher conferences, Finn barely looks at Poe

It stings in the fall, but even that wound has healed when spring comes. Finn is still removed, a little less open, but he manages a small smile when Poe catches his gaze during the last conference that year

Summer arrives, and Poe has almost stopped dreaming of kissing Finn entirely

There’s a small celebration to celebrate the end of the school year, hosted by one of the PTA moms

BB takes off with some of the kids immediately, leaving Poe to his own devices

He’s half-heartedly participating in a discussion about gluten-free sugar cookies with some of the parents while watching BB chase his friends around the yard

He feels a light touch on his arm and turns to see Finn standing there, smiling

“I wanted to tell you what a delight it was to teach BB this year,” Finn says, “and that I’m sorry I won’t have longer with him.”

Poe starts, brow furrowing in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“I’m teaching preschool next year,” Finn says, looking down at his feet before glancing up at Poe again. “I originally applied to work with younger kids, but they didn’t have an opening until next fall.”

“So you’re not teaching BB anymore?” Finn shakes his head. “He’ll be devastated.”

Finn frowns, sadness filling his eyes, but Poe nudges him with his elbow, grinning softly

“I’m happy for you Finn, really. BB loved working with you.”

“I loved it too.” Finn is quiet, serious, and his voice falters before Finn goes silent. He blinks rapidly, and Poe realizes just how much Finn cares about his students

“We’ll have to have you over for dinner. To thank you.”

Finn’s eyes widen, wetness replaced with a brilliant spark. His mouth opens, then there’s the unmistakable sound of children colliding, a solid thud followed by squeals, giggles, and shouts

Poe sighs, looking around for BB, despite knowing in his heart of hearts that BB is almost always involved in whatever shenanigans are happening

“I should go.” Poe rests his hand on Finn’s arm. “We’ll work out a date later,” he says, winking before he turns around to chase after his son

When the time comes, BB is excited as Poe is nervous- he insists on helping with the cooking, which slows things significantly, if only because Poe has to sign each recipe and he runs circles around the small kitchen hovering over his son

BB has little regard for things like measurements or cation around a hot stove- about halfway through cooking the pasta needed for an old family recipe, BB tries to grab a noodle out of the boiling pot

Poe pulls his hand back just in time, rambling warnings and curses in Spanish and signing his worries and reliefs rapidly in ASL

BB stares up at him innocently, and Poe melts

He also puts his son on his back, so Poe finishes the cooking with a seven-year-old pointing where to go and what to do

They both have to squeeze in a shower before Finn arrives, as they’re each covered in sweat and sauce and flour

(Poe finds a bit of salsa behind BB’s ear as he towels his son off, and he sighs)

Poe is dressing when the door rings. First, he hears BB tearing down the hall, his feet thundering, then the door opening- Poe follows his son, finishing the last buttons on his shirt, then Finn is in his living room, BB tugging on his hand to bring Finn into the apartment

“Hi,” Finn says, kneeling down to hug BB

“Hi,” Poe says, and his heart flutters like it did a year ago, when he saw Finn for the very first time

It progresses from there because BB loves Finn, and Poe believes in love at first sight, even if he can’t admit it yet

(He loves Finn too)

Dinners with Luke, Leia, and Finn resume, in addition to meals whenever BB demands that Finn eat with them

(It’s been too long, Dad, BB will say. You and Finn are lonely without each other)

Poe doesn’t know how much he can disagree with his son, partly because BB is largely right, and partly because BB has Poe wrapped around his finger

Even so, it’s nearly a month before Poe asks Finn out properly, with no children or bosses to accompany them

Finn accepts in an instant

Dating Finn is nice- for one, he fits into Poe’s life easily- but he also validates the months Poe spent dreaming of the impossible scenario where he and Finn could finally be together, because dating Finn is better than Poe ever imagined

Finn is funny, more sarcastic than Poe had realized, direct and curious and teasing. Deeply loving and loyal and defensive and stubborn, and also a good kisser, with perpetually warm hands that always find their way into Poe’s grip

That summer is glorious, and none of them- Poe, nor BB, nor Finn- want it to end. It is the beginning of all wonderful things

Poe accepts quickly but with relative uncertainty, that Finn will be Poe’s boyfriend long before he will become one of BB’s caretakers

Finn is good with BB- he speaks ASL and understands his son better than most, and Poe is forever grateful he never had to navigate a wide dating pool as a single father, mostly because he’s certain there’s very, very few people worth bringing home to BB

Even with adjustment periods and the time it takes to figure out how exactly Finn fits into their lives, BB is wildly fond of Finn, who spoils him and makes him laugh

You smile lots when Finn is around BB says one day

Is that good? Poe signs back. Do you like when Finn is around?

Finn makes me happy BB says, and Poe knows that’s all that ever matters

November comes with an with the first snow; BB complains that he misses seeing Finn at school, but he sees Finn every weekend and most weekdays, so he’s satisfied, even if Mr. C is stuffy and old, but nice I guess

They are comfortable together- things are calm, settled into the new school year- and Poe figures he knows what to expect from life with a hyperactive seven year old and a boyfriend he’s hopelessly in love with

What’s unexpected, however, is the call he gets at 3am on a Friday night- or rather, the 6 missed calls, and the one that Poe finally picks up, his heart pounding wildly when he sees Finn’s name on the screen

He hit a pole, Finn explains, because he swerved to avoid hitting a cat

“I’m fine, honestly, Poe, the airbags went off and I was wearing my seatbelt and most of the damage is on the passenger side-”

Finn is fine, he promises, but his car is damaged fairly badly and also Finn rescued the cat, who is also fine, and they have no way to get home

So, Poe wraps BB in a blanket and carries him out to the car, and together they pick up Finn off the street in the dead of night

In five months of dating, it’s the first time Finn spends the night at Poe’s apartment with BB there

Finn sleeps on the couch, next to the makeshift nest of blankets where the kitten finally falls asleep

BB spends his Saturday writing a list of names for the kitten, who is entrusted to his care (and Poe’s) while Finn makes endless calls to a towing company and his insurance, and the bank and the local vet

Finn spends the next night, too, because he doesn’t want to move the cat, who is young and probably scared, and very attached to Poe and BB already

On Sunday, Finn goes to the vet to see if the cat is missing or chipped, and Finn leaves with a purring kitten that belongs only to him

BB is then allowed to name the cat officially; he becomes D-O, much to Finn’s amusment and Poe’s exasperation

(BB doesn’t deign to explain this decision, and Poe cannot bring himself to ask BB why this name was chosen more than ten times)

By then, they’ve also agreed that Finn will stay with BB and Poe until Finn’s car is fixed, so Poe can drive Finn to work, and so that D-O can stay with BB a little longer

Finn sleeps on the couch Sunday night, but BB sneaks out of bed to cuddle with the cat, and Poe finds them Monday morning, BB curled in Finn’s arms, D-O snuggled at their feet

Poe takes a picture before rousing them for school, and the picture is first the background on his phone, then printed and framed on the wall of their first home together

A smaller copy is slipped into his wallet, too, so that the three of them are with him, always

BB cries at the end of the week, when Finn has his car again, and he and D-O are ready to go home

(By Christmas, Poe has given Finn a key to the apartment, and by Feburary, they’re looking for a place to share together)

When BB turns eight, the three (four) of them move into the apartment that becomes their first home as a family, and it marks another beginning for them all

When BB turns ten, his father gets married, and he with his grandfather walk Poe down the aisle

Poe and BB are a family. This fact was slow and learned, but absolute all the same and Finn, still gradually, but just as certainly, becomes their family too

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alwaysahiccupandastrid · 4 years ago

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Happy 40th Birthday Harry James Potter!

On this day in 1980, the Boy-Who-Lived was born. He has to celebrate his birthday this year in a low-key way, due to the pandemic, but he doesn’t particularly mind - the less fuss the better. He wakes up and is immediately showered in birthday wishes by his wife and their three children, which is honestly the best way to be woken up in his opinion. He opens the presents they’ve gotten him, despite his protests not to get him anything, and he loves every single one. Harry spends the day receiving owls bringing more birthday wishes and presents from his friends, including Neville, Luna, his Weasley in-laws and of course Hagrid, who sends him a misspelled card that he cherishes. Other than this, he spends a quiet day with his family; the boys have to be separated at one point before one of their arguments blows the house up, but other than that it’s fairly incident free.

In the evening, Ron and Hermione come over for dinner with their two children, and Harry’s so thrilled to see them that he ignores the whole social distancing thing and hugs his best friends (it’ll be fine, his friends haven’t been anywhere and neither has he, plus they’re technically family). Rose and Hugo give him a present that they’ve both chipped in to give him, and then they (mercifully) provide his own children with a distraction so that he and Ginny can catch up with Ron and Hermione before the food is ready. Dinner is simple but nice, and the conversation is filled with cheerful and affectionate banter, laughter, and Harry is so happy even when Ron jokes that he’s “officially old” now that he’s forty and the kids all laugh at him.

Ron, Hermione and their kids stay a little while longer - it’s Friday night, no one needs to be anywhere tomorrow morning - and while the Potter and Weasley kids go out on the grass in the large garden to play miniature-Quidditch (Albus commentates since he refuses to play), the adults have drinks and watch as they talk a little more. Sometimes none of them can believe that they’re all still here, let alone that they’re all living such happy lives, but no one feels this way more so than Harry himself.

Eventually the four Weasleys head home, giving him final birthday wishes and deciding to meet up again soon - Molly is hoping to start doing Sunday family dinners again soon, which is exciting. Once they’ve gone, Albus retreats to his room and claims he wants to get some sleep; he’s fourteen and seems to be slipping further and further away from his family with each year he’s at school. James, now nearly taller than his father at sixteen, goes to his room shortly after, claiming he wants to write some letters to his friends before going to bed. Lily, twelve and still very much a daddy’s girl, is more than happy to sit with both her parents for an hour and chatter about everything from Quidditch to books to her excitement to go back to Hogwarts for her second year in September. Eventually she starts to yawn and rub at her eyes, and despite her weak protests that she’s not tired, she heads up to bed - before she goes, she gives her parents kisses, and a special extra hug for Harry, as she murmurs “g’night, dad, hope you had a good birthday”.

In what is truly a smashing finish to his birthday, Harry and Ginny spend some alone time in their room, making sure that the door has a locking charm as well as being locked in the muggle way, and of course an extremely strong Silencing charm just to be on the safe side - they’re not stupid, they know that it’s likely their sons are both still awake, and it’s better than risking the chance anyway. After nearly two decades of being married, you’d think that they’d be pretty bored of sex but, honestly, they’re really not - in truth, it just means that they know each other better, what’s okay and what’s not, and it’s arguably even more intimate because they have so many years of marriage behind them. Afterwards, lying in bed with his wife, Harry Potter thinks to himself that yeah, he’s happy - he’s ridiculously happy and sometimes he feels like he doesn’t even deserve this life he has, but he’s not about to question it or complain.

So today I’m wishing Harry James Potter a happy birthday - unlike the person who created him, who shall not be named, I’m 100% certain that Harry Potter is a trans ally and not a bigoted piece of shit. Harry Potter absolutely supports trans people and always will - because that’s the kind of person that he is.

Happy Birthday, Harry - thank you for being such an important figure to so many of us.

#harry potter #happy birthday harry #hinny #james sirius potter #albus severus potter #lily luna potter #ron weasley #hermione granger #rose weasley #hugo weasley #romione

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ificanthaveu · 5 years ago

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Crazy About You || Shawn Mendes

Description: A year after he broke your heart, your old friend is back to visit. You’re more than fine with it. Shawn is not.

A/N: I’ve had this idea sitting on my list for a while and then the first part just came to me the other night so yeet. but i also rewrote this ending like 4 times because I wasn’t happy with literally anything, but I think I like this one. hope you love it!!

Word Count: 5.2k

The laptop on your lap kept feeling heavier and heavier as you tried to finish going through emails before 7:00pm hit. You were perched up in the corner of the couch outside of Shawn’s fitting, trying to catch up on the emails you accidentally didn’t look through yesterday. Your legs were going numb, and you kept glancing at the time, praying Shawn would be done soon and maybe you could get out of here early.

Your vision blurred the screen as you downed the rest of your coffee, knowing it was going to be a late night. You blinked a few times and widened your eyes before forwarding another email to Andrew with your thoughts about it. You were snapped out of your rhythm when you heard the door creak open next to you.

Shawn’s head popped out and scanned the room until his eyes landed on you.

“I need your opinion,” he said with a smile. You sighed as you closed your laptop and followed him into the room.

Tiff was glancing back and forth between two suits hung up on a rack in the front of the room. She glanced back at you and rolled her eyes.

“He won’t pick one, [Y/N]. Please hit some sense into him. I’m tired. It’s Friday night. I do not want to be here any longer,” Tiff complained as she threw her hands up in the air in defeat. You laughed quietly at her as you walked closer to look at the outfits hung up.

“You do look good in blue, but I feel like you wore something similar to this before,” you said as you ran your hand down the collar of the royal blue suit with a polka dot shirt under it. You glanced over at the other one and looked it up and down before nodding your head.

“Definitely go with this one,” you said as you felt the material in your hand. It was a very dark green suit with a white semi-sheer button up underneath it. “It’s classic but just borderline different. It suits you,” you said before looking back over at him as he studied the suits.

“Yeah, you’re right. You’re definitely right,” he said as he nodded and grabbed the suit to put it on again to finish the measurements. Tiff groaned and leaned against the wall behind her.

“I said that multiple times, Shawn!” She yelled as he made his way to the next room.

“Sorry!” He yelled before shutting the door. You sighed as you sat down in the chair next to Tiff.

“I don’t know how you deal with his ass every day,” she said to you as you opened up your laptop and sent out the last of your emails.

“It’s definitely an adventure,” you said with that tone of voice Shawn hated.

“You’re coming this weekend, right?” She asked you as she leaned against your chair.

“Nope,” you said as you shut your laptop for the final time. She gave you a look and brought her hand to her chest.

“You mean you aren’t accompanying him to the People’s Choice Awards? You’re the only one I trust to actually keep him alive. Dressing him is going to be a nightmare if you aren’t there,” Tiff exaggerated as she started to pace.

“Andrew will be there. Brian will probably tag along,” you rationalized.

“That’s even worse,” she groaned as she rested her head in her hands. “Why do you get this weekend off and I don’t?”

“My friends from back home are visiting,” you paused and glanced down at your watch. “Actually their flight just left four minutes ago.”

“Why couldn’t they do next week?”

“Because they’re in school, and this is the last week that all three of them could do.”

“Who’s coming?” She asked as she started calming down.

“Meg, Charlie and Wells. They were two years younger than me in high school, and I honestly can’t even remember how we met. I usually call them my kids because I honestly feel like I’m their mother sometimes,” you mumbled.

“So that’s why you do so well with Shawn,” she whispered. You stifled your laugh as Shawn walked out in the suit. You and Tiff both nodded your head as he stuffed his hands in the pockets.

“That’s definitely the one,” Tiff said as she crossed over to him and began making sure everything fit correctly. Shawn kept flinching and moving as she played with the fabric. “Cut it out,” she said as she pinched his arm. He groaned and looked over at you as you gave him the look he always dreaded. He immediately stopped moving.

“Remind me again how I’m going to do this without you this weekend?” Tiff asked as she straightened Shawn’s collar. Shawn looked over at you with a confused look.

“What do you mean without you?” He said with some panic in his voice.

“My kids are visiting this weekend. Remember?”

“I thought that was next weekend,” he said as he glanced down at the ground.

“Nope, and if you actually checked the Google calendar every once in a while, you would’ve known this months ago. Or if you would listen to me when I tell you you’re on your own this weekend…” you trailed off as he groaned.

“Ok, ok, I get it. You can stop,” he cut you off. Tiff wrote down a few side notes on her notebook and glanced between the two of you.

“But if you misbehave, I’ll still be there in five minutes flat, and I won’t be happy about it,” you said with that voice as Shawn stayed quiet. Tiff smiled and winked at you as she closed her notebook and patted Shawn on the shoulder.

“Go change,” she said to him as he nodded his head and began to walk away. Tiff crossed the room and sat on the edge of the chair you were sitting in.

“I don’t know how you do it,” she said as she leaned her head back. You just laughed at her as you leaned back as well.

“He’s really not difficult,” you said as she gave you a look and you rolled your eyes. “He isn’t. Yeah, he definitely gets annoying sometimes and acts like a five-year-old, but when it gets down to it, he’s the best I’ve ever worked with.”

“So why did Shawn look so uncomfortable when you brought up your friends?” She questioned as she raised her eyebrows at you. You sighed and glanced down at your hands.

“Meg and Charlie are dating. Have been almost three years now. But Wells…” you trailed off as you finally looked back up at Tiff. “We used to have feelings for each other. At different times. Once I caught feelings, he was over me already. Like, yeah, we’re friends now, but it’s still weird sometimes. Shawn met him when we were in my hometown for a show, and he hasn’t liked him ever since,” you said.

“He obviously isn’t a shitty guy, right? I mean if you’re still friends with him, and he’s coming to visit you.”

“No, he’s great. Why’d you think I had a crush on him?” You asked. She just shrugged her shoulders before you continued. “I guess Shawn just gets protective sometimes since that whole thing was the reason Shawn and I get along so well now. I’d just started the job when I found out Wells didn’t feel the same way about me anymore, so he had to pick up the pieces.”

“Damn, what a way to bond with your boss,” she joked. You rolled your eyes at her as Shawn walked back into the room and handed Tiff the outfit.

“Ready?” He asked as he looked down at you. You nodded your head as you stood up, and you both thanked Tiff. She pulled you in for a hug.

“Ever think he’s not just being protective?” She whispered. She pulled away from you and gave you a look. You gave her a confused look as a response before turning to catch up with Shawn who was already out the door.

“Call me if you need anything, ok?” You said as you half leaned out the door.

She nodded her head before motioning for you to leave, “yeah, yeah, go enjoy your weekend.”

You waved one last time before meeting Shawn by the elevator as he leaned against the wall and looked down at his phone. The two of you stayed silent as the elevator opened and you both walked in. You couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Alright, what’s up?” You said finally facing him as you crossed your arms. He sighed and shoved his phone in his pocket and glanced over at you.

“Wells?” He said in that tone of voice you hated with that damn look on his face you rarely saw.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” you responded as you reciprocated the voice and the look. He rolled his eyes at you.

“Oh, of course not, just that you literally have only seen him once since he broke your heart, but go ahead and spend the weekend with him,” he said in a smart-ass tone.

“Listen, Charlie and Wells go everywhere together, and they, along with Meg, are the reason I ever even stayed connected to people in my hometown. They helped me through a lot of shit when I was deciding whether or not to take this job. They’re the reason I’m here. I don’t give a shit if you don’t like Wells because you’re not the one who’s friends with him,” you snapped back at him. You’d fought about this a few times before, and you definitely didn’t want to get into it again.

Shawn just stared at you. He had a blank look on his face that you’d never really seen before. You tried to calm down your breathing before you said something you’d regret.

“I just don’t want you getting hurt again,” he finally said.

“And I won’t.”

“You can’t promise me that,” he said with a smirk. Your jaw nearly dropped as you looked at him. His face was tight and his jaw was locked. He wouldn’t look at you.

“You’re unbelievable,” you mumbled as the elevator door opened and you stormed towards your car with Shawn right on your heels.

You unlocked just the driver door and climbed in, leaving Shawn to be pulling at the door handle that wouldn’t open.

“[Y/N],” he said sternly as he knocked on your window. You cracked it open and looked over at him with a smile on your face that was faker than you’d ever pulled off.

“You can Uber home,” you said with a sickly sweet voice. It was his turn to have his jaw drop as you locked your door and started to roll up your window.

“Your suitcase is still at my condo. And I know you need it for this weekend,” he said before you could get the window all the way up.

“Then I guess maybe I’ll see you there,” you said as you started your car and drove off, leaving Shawn to stand there, utterly shocked.

You were never someone to speed, but you were determined to get to Shawn’s and back into your car before he could get there. Sure, Wells broke your heart, but that didn’t mean he was a horrible person. He couldn’t help that he didn’t have feelings for you just like you couldn’t help your feelings for him. You understood why Shawn was upset, but he didn’t need to take it out on you like this.

You sped into the parking lot and quickly parked your car. You dug in your glove compartment and tried to find Shawn’s spare key you kept in there. You finally found it and jogged inside. You waved to the doorman and said a quick hello before taking the elevator to the top floor. You sped walked down the hall and opened the door at the end.

You looked around the living room before you found your suitcase next to his in the corner. You grabbed your coat that was next to it and slipped it on before yanking the suitcase towards the door. You closed the door behind you and locked it before walking back down the hallway.

You waited for the elevator to come up, and when it opened, Shawn walked out.

“Leaving so soon,” he said sickeningly sweet with a smile as fake as plastic.

“I have friends to pick up at the airport. Enjoy your weekend, asshole,” you said as you tried to walk past him. He grabbed your arm before you could move any further.

“Their flight doesn’t get in for two more hours,” he said without looking at you. You looked up at him as he looked over at you. “I checked the damn Google calendar.”

“Well, then I can stop home and change,” you said as you attempted to yank your arm out of his grasp.

“Nope, we’re talking about this,” he said as he began to walk towards his apartment. He turned around and looked at you, waiting for you to follow him. You didn’t say a word as you stood there with your arms folded and a scowl on your face.

“Come on, [Y/N]. I’m not letting us fighting get in the way of both of our weekends. I know you, and I know you’ll take this out on your friends. Even though I wouldn’t care if it was on Wells, but I like Charlie and Meg. So let’s go,” he said as he motioned towards his apartment.

You hated that he was right.

You yanked your suitcase towards you as you stomped past him and back to his apartment. You leaned against the wall as he unlocked the door and motioned for you to go inside. You parked your suitcase next to the door and took a seat on a stool by his island in the kitchen as he leaned against the counter across from you.

“Why do you hate Wells so much when I’m clearly over it? I would get it if you still hated him because he cheated on me or was a shitty guy or because I was still mad at him, but none of those are true. I just don’t understand your hatred for one of my closest friends,” you said without trying to let your voice raise.

Shawn hung his head as he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to think of how he could phrase this without making you angry again.

“You barely knew me. You’d been working for me for less than a month. Yet, you still cried in my arms when Wells told you he didn’t have any feelings for you. Up until that point, you were completely professional with me. I hated that that was the moment that broke it in. I wanted to become friends with you normally, not because you needed someone to cry to, and I happened to be the person that was there,” he explained.

“Shawn, we would’ve become friends anyway. We didn’t just become friends because I needed someone to cry to,” you said softly as you tried to meet his eyes, but he kept avoiding your gaze.

“I just don’t trust him. What kind of person just texts you that they don’t have feelings for you?” Shawn said as he still tried to keep his cool.

“He was a kid. He’s grown up since then.”

“It’s been a year.”

“A year is a long time in college.”

You both stayed quiet as you picked at your nails and Shawn stared at the counter.

“You can just go,” he finally said without looking up at you. You hit your hands against the counter as you prayed he’d finally look at you.

“Are you serious?” You said with the anger coming back.

“This isn’t getting anywhere. I still don’t like Wells. You still do. No amount of conversation is going to change either of our opinions,” he said. You could hear the frustration in his voice. “Be honest with me, do you still have feelings for Wells?” He said as he finally looked you in the eyes.

You couldn’t look at him anymore as you looked next to his head instead.

“Look at me, [Y/N].”

You finally looked at him in the eyes. You could see the hurt from a mile away.

“Do you still have feelings for him?” He asked again.

“No,” you choked out.

Shawn shook his head as he moved past you and into the living room.

“I don’t have feelings for him,” you reiterated as he sat on the couch.

“Really? Because I’m having a hard time believing it,” he said as he looked over at you.

The two of you stayed silent again. Every moment with Wells and Shawn turned through your head. You didn’t have feelings for Wells. You could promise that. But if Shawn asked you any more questions about who you had feelings for, you were going to say something you might regret.

“He was the first guy who ever paid attention to me. Yes, I will always love him, and there will always be a place for him in my life, but I will never see him as more than a friend,” you said as you stood up and walked towards Shawn.

“Just go, [Y/N],” he said without looking at you, instead focusing on the wall across from him. He sounded exhausted. You turned around and walked towards the door, grabbing your suitcase and opening the door.

“Hey, Shawn,” you said softly. He finally looked up at you with a sigh.

“Good luck this weekend. Don’t trip. Call me if you need anything,” you said as you rested your hand on the doorknob. He nodded his head and attempted a smile.

“Tell the kids I said ‘hi,’” he responded.

“I’m sure they’d love to see you.”

“I think we both know that’s not a good idea,” he said before standing up, walking into his room and shutting the door.

You took a deep breath before closing the door behind you and storming down the hallway.

He was unbelievable. How did he think this conversation was going to turn out? Did he really think you were going to just accept that he hated one of your closest friends?

You continued to grumble to yourself as you drove home, as you changed and on your ride to the airport.

You leaned against a pole near the back of the terminal as you waited for your friends to walk out. Meg was first as she scanned the room for you. Before you could even stop yourself, you were sprinting towards her and into a hug. She held you close as you felt four more arms come around you as well. You buried your head in Meg’s shoulder as you tried to hold your tears in. Everyone finally let go and looked at you.

“What’s wrong?” Charlie asked as he could read your expression like a book. You released a breath and pulled your sweatshirt sleeves over your hands.

“It’s been a long day,” you managed to croak out. No one said anything.

“Let’s get going, yeah?” Wells finally said. He rested his hand on the bottom of your back as you started to walk towards the parking lot.

No one said anything else as you all got into the car and sat in silence.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Meg finally said from next to you.

“Am I an idiot?” You finally said. All three of them thought about how they were supposed to answer that. Before anyone could make up their minds, you continued. “No, seriously. Like, am I the stupidest person alive? That I’m still friends with you,” you said as you looked at Wells. His eyebrows raised and his face turned red.

“[Y/N],” Meg warned as you continued getting angry.

“Why am I like this? You broke my heart, and we’re still friends and I’m ok with it! I don’t even like you like that anymore! So why doesn’t Shawn believe me when I tell him that,” you ranted as you started your car and started driving - no - speeding. “I’m trying so hard to understand why he hates Wells so much. I’ve thought about it way too damn much, and there’s no rational answer. He’s explained it multiple different ways, and I’ll never get it.”

The whole car stayed silent as you kept speeding down the freeway. You dodged in and out of lanes, and you could see Meg grip onto her armrest from the corner of your eye. You made it back to your apartment in record time and parked your car in your usual spot. Meg gave the boys a look as she removed your keys from the ignition and handed your apartment key to the boys. They silently got out and walked into your building.

“Well, hello to you, too,” she finally said. You groaned as you hit your head against the steering wheel.

“I’m an asshole,” you mumbled. She rested her hand on your back as you looked over at her.

“What happened?” She asked softly.

“Shawn doesn’t like Wells. We fought about it. It wasn’t good,” you replied. She nodded her head.

“Why are you mad about it?” She asked. You gave her a confused look.

“Because I care about his opinion, I guess.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s my boss.”

“So what? No one else’s bosses care about their personal life.”

“But Shawn’s different.”

“Why?”

“Because…he just is,” you said carefully. Meg narrowed her eyes at you as you avoided her gaze.

“There’s a reason, and we both know that reason,” she whispered.

“If I don’t say it out loud, it’s not true,” you mumbled.

“My love, that’s not how it works,” she said in as soft of a tone as she could muster up. She rubbed her hand up and down your back a few more times before unbuckling her seat belt.

“You know what you have to do?” She asked as she opened her door. You nodded as you put your keys back in the ignition. She leaned down and looked into the car at you.

“I love you,” she said with a smile.

“I’d be dead without you,” you said as you smiled sadly at her. She shrugged her shoulders and smirked.

“Yeah, I know.” She slammed the door and waved you off. You backed out and made your way back onto the freeway.

You didn’t speed this time. Instead, you took your time as you took the all too familiar route. You pulled up in front and parked your car as you slowly made the walk back up.

You knocked a few times. The door was opened, and Shawn looked at you like he knew this was coming. He motioned with his head for you to come in.

“Where’s the gang?” He asked.

“Back at my place,” you said quietly, not trusting your voice to go any louder. “You were right. I took it out on them,” you said through a laugh you tried to make sound real. It didn’t come out that way. “I don’t think Wells is happy with me right now.”

He didn’t say anything like you expected him to. There was no smart response. He just stood there.

“Nothing?” You asked. He shook his head slowly.

“It’s not worth it,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” you finally said. “I’m sorry I snapped at you and that I didn’t drive you home and that I was an asshole.”

“You were only an asshole because I was an asshole. You were justified. I was not, and I’m sorry,” he said as he looked you in the eyes. He was leaned against the wall in the kitchen as you stood against the counter, a comfortable distance between the two of you.

“I hate that I’m making you mad over this, but I just can’t look at this situation and be ok with it,” he explained for what felt like the millionth time.

“You don’t have to understand. You’re not friends with him,” you said back to him. He sighed as he leaned his head back against the wall and looked at the ceiling.

“But I’m your friend, too, right?” He asked as he looked at you. You nodded your head. “And I can’t watch you be how you are around him. You’re uncomfortable, yet somehow you’re still always trying to impress him. Your hometown show was painful. It was a constant shift between being by his side and trying to avoid him. Make up your damn mind about it,” he said as you could feel him getting angry.

“It’s not your choice to make.”

“Then make yours,” he snapped. The room was silent again as you tightened your hands into fists, feeling your nails digging into the palms of your hands, trying not to snap like he just did.

“Why are you really mad about this?” You questioned cautiously. He stayed quiet as he avoided your eyes again. “None of my other friends have a problem with Wells and I still trying to be friends. Why do you have a problem with it?”

“Because I didn’t know you before. I didn’t know you and Wells when you guys were just friends the first time,” he answered.

“That explains nothing,” you tested. You could feel your heart beating faster at the stupidity of everything. You could see the muscles in Shawn’s forearms pop out as he clenched his hands into fists.

“I don’t know what else I can say, [Y/N]. That’s all I have,” he said as he folded his arms across his chest.

You shook your head as you leaned your elbows on the counter and rested your head in your hands, trying to think of how the two of you could get through this in a way where everyone won. There wasn’t.

“I don’t know what else you want me to say, Shawn. Nothing you say will justify your dislike for Wells. Nothing I say will make you like him. I’m at a dead-end here, and I can’t just pretend it’s not something that’s happening since you’re both extremely important to me. I honestly don’t know what’s going to fix this, so if you magically suddenly have an idea, go ahead and say it because I’m done,” you border-line yelled.

Shawn stayed quiet and still avoided looking at you. It felt like an eternity.

“I have guests who genuinely want to spend time with me, so I’m going to go,” you said softly. “I’ll see you Monday for the meeting.” You grabbed your keys off his counter and made your way to the door. Shawn stepped in front of you before you could make it to the door, the two of you standing just centimeters apart.

You tried to steady your breathing as you looked up at him, and he was already looking down at you.

“Don’t go,” he said barely above a whisper.

“I can’t do this shit anymore, Shawn. I can’t keep begging,” you said as you stepped back, not wanting to be too close, but Shawn stepped towards you again. You didn’t move.

“What are you doing?�� You whispered as you looked up at him, your back pressed against the counter.

“You know exactly what I’m doing,” he said.

“This is a horrible idea.”

“I know.” There was a silence as he stayed close to you. You could feel his breath against your lips. “Then stop me.”

You didn’t stop him.

Your breath stopped short as he stood pressed up against you, one hand gripping on to the counter, the other moving your hair behind your ear. You could feel his heart beating rapidly against yours. You could feel him shaking. He finally leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer as you kissed him back. Your hand ran up into his hair and tugged slightly as he groaned into your mouth. His arms hooked under your legs and lifted you onto the counter. Your hands came to his cheeks and ran your thumbs along his cheekbones. You both pulled away to catch your breath. His forehead rested against yours as you both breathed deeply. Your hands remained on his shoulders as he rubbed circles along your hips.

He looked up at you and met your gaze before he leaned in once more to peck your lips a few times. He pulled away again and pulled you into a hug. Your hands ran up and down his back as you buried your head into his chest. Your heart was beating a million miles a minute.

“That’s why I don’t like Wells around,” he mumbled into your hair. He could feel you smile against his chest before you pulled away and looked up at him, running your fingers carefully through his hair. “Because I’m fucking obsessed with you, and I hate that there’s someone else out there, that you’re friends with, that once felt the same way I do right now. It scares the shit out of me.”

You looked at him like you’d wanted to for the past year, with total love, admiration and every feeling you’d ever had for him.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, hun,” you said as you swiped away a loose curl on his forehead before moving your hand to his cheek. He leaned into your touch as the two of you sat there just holding each other.

“I know,” he mumbled. “I’m just crazy about you.”

You couldn’t help the smile that came across your face as you pressed a kiss to his forehead before resting yours against his.

“As much as I want to sit here and talk about how crazy I am about you all night, I have three people waiting at my apartment for me,” you whispered with a small smile.

He frowned and said, “just stay here.”

You shook your head, and he sighed as he rested his forehead on your shoulder.

“Can I come with then?” He asked. You nodded your head before he helped you off the counter, grabbing your hand as he grabbed his keys and followed you out the door.

You slowly walked towards the elevator, a comfortable silence between you. You walked into the elevator, and Shawn wrapped his arms around your shoulders as you leaned back into him, lacing your hands with his.

“I’m excited to see your friends,” he said into your hair.

“Two hours ago, you wanted nothing to do with them,” you whispered as you looked up at him. You felt him shrug and tighten his grip around you.

“I’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Took you long enough.”

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spaceorphan18 · 4 years ago

Text

99 Perspectives on a Single Love Story #8

A/N: The Story of Kurt and Blaine told through the eyes of everyone else but them. Each chapter is a different perspective in the ongoing tale of their love story.

I started something like this a while back - and now I’m taking the idea and really running with it. Each chapter is a ficlet of a different character at a different point in Kurt and Blaine’s life - documenting their love story. This starts in Audition, and each chapter will be paired with a different episode until reaching Dreams Come True.

I’m using this as a fun writing experiment for a) writing short things and b) writing things from a multitude of varying perspectives. Have fun! :)

This one’s a little longer since it was part of my original attempt at this project - they won’t usually be this length.

[Ao3]

***

Finn Hudson (Furt)

It’s Friday night, after the football game. It hadn’t gone well. Coach Beiste had spent a good twenty minutes lecturing them on teamwork and all that crap. They had known. It’s not like they hadn’t had a good streak before that night. He’s tired and hungry and desperately needs a shower.

He also knows Rachel is waiting for a phone call. Not that she hadn’t been at the game - she had - but Rachel demands more energy from him than the rest of his life put together. He’s not sure he has the energy tonight, but Rachel’s texts keep flying in.

Rachel : Make sure when you get home you talk to Kurt!! Rachel : I’m Worried that he didn’t come to the game today. Rachel : It’s probably because of Karofsky and those other jerks. Rachel : They’re being awful, Finn. You need to step in. Rachel : Finn, have you talked to Kurt yet??? Rachel : Have you??? Rachel : Are you ignoring me again??

He leaves his football equipment by the foot of the stairs, and throws his phone on the end table. Rachel’s texts still light up the screen, and she’ll probably be pissed that he isn’t responding, but he isn’t entirely sure what she wants him to do. Kurt’s fine - or at least he’s seemed fine since he’s been to Dalton. Besides, he’s too tired to think about other people’s problems. All he wants to do is grab a Mountain Dew and crash.

Kurt is at the table when Finn walks into the kitchen - the table full of designs, notes, and planners for their parents’ wedding. Finn’s not surprised, Kurt has taken his job as wedding planner pretty seriously. There are details Finn’s never even heard of that Kurt seems to have covered. Kurt had once tried to explain the Fung Schway or whatever to him, but it all sounds like a bunch of nonsense in his head.

Kurt, however, isn’t alone. His new friend from Dalton - Blaine - is with him, chatting with Kurt about the designs. It’s almost like listening to a foriegn language. Honestly, Finn’s gotten used to seeing Blaine around. He’s been over at least twice a week since Kurt met him. (And always wearing that blazer. Doesn’t he ever get sick -- or too hot -- wearing that thing?) Finn doesn’t know what Blaine’s home life is like, or if he’s just interested in Kurt (are they dating? Finn can’t keep it all straight) but Blaine stays until Burt literally has to kick him out - Kurt complaining about it the whole time.

Sometimes Finn wishes Rachel would stay that late, but Rachel has her beauty routine she has to do before bed, and therefore is always out the door promptly at 9:45pm, even if they’re in the middle of making out.

“Finn! How was the game?” Kurt asks, not bothering to look up. Finn doubts Kurt cares about the football game - he rarely ever asks.

“Azimio fumbled. They scored a touchdown and we never really got the lead back,” Finn says with a grumble as he opens the fridge. “Beiste bitched us out forever after the game.” Oohh, Burt had left the makings of a sandwich. A sandwich sounds good, too. He pulls out the plate along with a bottle of Mountain Dew that is stashed in the back.

“Azimio is a clueless Neanderthal, who probably has his lackeys tying his shoes for him because he doesn’t know how to do it himself,” Kurt snarks.

Finn holds back a groan. He doesn’t want to get into it tonight with Kurt.

“Well, from what Kurt’s told me, it sounds like the guy would be better used as a tackle and not a wide receiver,” Blaine says, unexpectedly.

“You know something about football?” Finn asks.

“Yeah, footballs great!” Blaine says, with a higher level of enthusiasm than Finn thought would have from someone who went to a prep school. “Actually, I’m excited for next weekend because my dad and I are going to an Ohio State game. We don’t do much together, but we do that every year.”

“That’s totally cool man.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty fun.”

“Oh, so I guess that means you’re not coming to the wedding then, huh?” Finn asks. “I would have figured Kurt would have nagged you to be his date by now.”

“Finn!” Kurt snaps, not able to hide the coloring in his cheeks.

So, Blaine isn’t his boyfriend? Finn’s so confused.

“Um, no,” Blaine shakes his head politely, avoiding eye contact. “I mean, yes, Kurt asked, and it’s a nice gesture, but I wouldn’t want to impose on a family thing even if I could come.”

“I told you, it’s not an imposition.,” Kurt says, rolling his eyes as he begins to draw on one of the blank pads in front of him.

“So what kind of seats did you get?” Finn asks as he puts the finishing touches on the sandwich.

“They’re box,” Blaine shrugs off as if it weren’t a big deal.

“No way, man!

“Well, my dad’s boss lets him have a season ticket every now and then.”

“I’m totally jealous,” Finn says. “Did you hear they’re bringing Meyer in as starting quarterback?”

Blaine is quick to reply. “Which is ridiculous, I know. Johnson has the better arm.”

“Yeah, but Meyer has better aim and…”

Kurt’s gone quiet, which always makes Finn a little uneasy. He’s stopped drawing on his pad to watch Finn and Blaine’s conversation carefully, a troubled look on his face. Finn isn’t the most observant person in the world, but he recognizes that look. It’s the same look Kurt used to give when Finn and Burt would talk about normal guy things together. Rachel’s voice echoes in his head -- reminding him of how left out Kurt usually feels, and how he should make an effort to make him feel included.

“So, what are you guys working on?” Finn asks as he pulls his chair up to the table, and sets his plate down, being careful enough not to set it on any of Kurt’s plans.

“Oh, Kurt’s a genius,” Blaine insists. A proud smile grows along Kurt’s lips. “He’s found a way to work in faux ostrich feathers into the centerpieces. Just take a look at these designs, they’re amazing.”

“Cool.” Finn says, trying to sound sincere.

If you had asked him for an honest answer, Finn wouldn’t have known the difference between what is sketched on the pad and anything else. But before he could even comment again, Kurt is off, talking a mile a minute as he excitedly gives details about the wedding. Finn nods along, trying to keep up. He takes a quick glance at Blaine, thinking that maybe Blaine would be as lost as he is, but Blaine’s busy staring at Kurt, watching him fondly and smiling as if he had stumbled upon something amazing.

How is he not Kurt’s boyfriend again?

Finn takes his sandwich and his soda and quickly slips out of the kitchen as Kurt and Blaine enter their own little world again. Finn might not be in tune with Kurt’s world but Blaine clearly is, and while Finn remains somewhat confused, he’s happy about that. At least he’ll have something positive to report back to Rachel.

#s.o. writes things #99 perspectives #i just feel like working on something

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rezdogsyonder · 4 years ago

Text

Similar circumstances

I’ve stolen a prompt from @mcudarklibrary, here is the list here. All credit goes to them, and this was in no way my idea, but I did want to write using these prompts. No one notices the reader missing from the party + Reader has to stay quiet in the library.

Also I put two dresses, so you can visualise the look I’m going for and length I have in mind, I don’t mention any colors or any specific size of woman. (Besides height) But I think a dark colored dress is best suited yenno?

Pairing: Loki x Tall!Reader

Summary: There is a new member in the Avengers, everyone seems to hate him but maybe you will like him as much as he likes you.

Warnings: Dark!Loki, non/dub-con(more dub than non but she did explicitly say no), unprotected sex, superserum!reader, Loki using his powers, choking, manipulation? (It feels like manipulation to me, like guilt tripping), double penetration, oral male and female receiving, mentions a cockwarming

**********

“Are you ready yet?” Nat asked from the your bed.

“Just another coat of mascara.” Holding your mouth open while you brush your eyelashes. A weird habit that everyone seemed to have. Taking a step back to look at yourself you’re pleased with what you see.

Your dress fitting you well, your make up being so close to perfect you wonder how you managed to do it. Bold lips, and some eyeshadow to make your eyes pop, tying your entire look together.

“Let’s go, we’re getting close to fashionably late.” She stood up after finishing strapping her heals. Even with her stilettos she wasn’t even up to your shoulder, she might have if you hadn’t worn heels as well. You like heels and you aren’t going to cater to any men to make them feel comfortable.

The only exception would be Tony or Bruce, but they are mature and secure with themselves so they would never ask anyways.

Tony’s party tonight is to celebrate the welcoming of a new Avenger. He’s not particularly fond of the new addition, but he is always looking for a reason to have a “small” gathering.

You don’t know about him yet, but you know you want to form your own opinion about him. It wasn’t his fault, he was being controlled by Thanos, manipulated by the fact that he felt unwelcome in his own family. Asgardian technology or magic or whatever showed evidence of mind control. But being raised to believe he’s a monster didn’t help anything either. Your heart went out to him. He didn’t even seem to feel comfortable in his true form.

Hoping you’ll get a chance to talk to him tonight, you pull yourself out of your thoughts. Time to focus on the party, you and Steve will most likely be the ones dragging everyone back to their rooms when they’re too drunk to walk.

Getting into the elevator, you ask Friday to take you to the top floor. It was a short ride and when the doors opened it revealed a green and gold color scheme.

“Well the party is for Loki, but don’t you think they went a little overboard?” She mumbled over to you.

“Huh, yeah maybe a little bit.” You smiled and held your finger and thumb mm’s apart. “Just a smidge.”

Natasha grabbed your arm and wrapped it in hers, “Lets get some drinks, come on, I’ll make you one that I know you’ll like.” Weaving through the large crowd.

**********

I saw you walk in, I’ve seen you many times before as well. Not allowed to talk to you or the other members of the team outside of Thor or Stark. I’ve seen you covered in blood, in sweatpants with sleep still in your eyes, but I haven’t seen you like this before. You were breath-taking.

I had hidden my fondness with you so far, but with everyone else’s unwillingness to talk to me, I’ve decided not to approach you first, hoping you would come to me. I don’t want to feel your rejection, which would most definitely happen if I just walk up to you.

Besides, the red head you were with would most definitely verbally rip my throat out if I got anywhere near. Thor brought Asgardian mead the last time he went through the bifrost, and plenty of it.

Sipping on my ale, I try to gain the courage I need to be able to just be here. Even if you only say my name in disgust it will be enough because I know that one day, you will be saying it with adoration.

Just as the way I have always said your name.

**********

“Nat I don’t know why you waste the alcohol on me, it’s not like I can get drunk.”

“This,” she held up a glass bottle that looks to be an antique, “is no regular alcohol. Now quit complaining and try... this.” She finished pouring a pink fruity smelling liquid and pushed the glass your way.

You bring the glass up to your lips and it tasted like a very sweet berry lemonade. You doubted this had any alcohol in it. It tasted just like juice, and you can’t smell anything bad about it.

“Are you trying to trick me or something,” you smiled, teasing her and held out your hand, “can I see the bottle?”

She handed it over with a smirk, and you smelt it, and god it is the worst thing you have ever smelt. Rotting honey and yeast, or maybe it’s more like apple cider vinegar. You quickly hand it back, coughing a little as if it’ll get that rancid smell out of your nose.

“What is that?” You’re about to gag, so you take a drink of the lemonade.

“Asgardian Mead. Who knew even literal gods like to party?” She laughed a little looking at the bottle with wonder before setting it back down underneath the counter. “So what do you think?” She gestured to your cup.

“You actually put that in there? You can’t even tell, how?” You’re drinking it again, genuinely wondering how she did it because she’s an absolute miracle worker.

“Strawberry banana purée, miracle whip, berry inclusions, vanilla extract, and a lemonade that had a lot of sugar. Like enough to make it into a syrup.”

“I can’t even taste banana! You’re magic I swear, can you show me?” You chugged the last of it and got behind the bar with her. You don’t want to bother her for more drinks later tonight because you know that you will want many more.

She shows you through the steps and still are in disbelief when you see the mead being poured in, she used more than you thought she would. Meaning that it is stronger than you gave credit for.

You start feeling a bit tipsy as she finishes it up, “Thank you so much, you are honestly the best.”

“No problem, but you should be thanking Thor, he brought it.” She pointed behind you with a flip of her hair she was walking towards Bruce who was talking to Clint at the other end of the bar.

You look in the direction she gave and through the large crowd you see him in the back corner, surrounded by Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Loki. The man of the hour. Might as well congratulate him while you’re over there.

Hopefully you won’t make a fool of yourself.

**********

“Heyy.” Drawing out the word way longer than it needs to, you go to sit in the space between Loki and Thor. Plopping down in an uncoordinated fashion, but careful not to spill your drink.

“Lady Y/N, how wonderful it is for you to join us. Tell us, are you enjoying tonight’s festivities?” He is his usual joyful self as he brings his arm around your shoulder pulling you close.

“Yes actually, thank you for bringing the drinks, I really appreciate it.”

“Ah, it is nothing. I have heard of your problems with the earthly ale, and I thought I could be of service. To the captain and soldier as well!” He raised his cup, to which you cheered.

“Actually what is mead? ‘Cause I smelt some of it and jesus it smells so bad.”

“It is honey, water, and sugar, fermented for hundreds of years, sometimes thousands. I believe it is a 100 percent alcohol by volume in Midgard terms. The magical properties however make it stronger.” Loki answered the question, after seeing Thor’s unknowing expression. You turn to him, not realizing how close you were sitting to the two of them. You shift in your seat to face him a little better.

“Whoa... what is the regular alcohol by volume percent?” You take another drink, his eyes trained on you.

“10-12 percent for the average wine.”

“How is it that you’re not even from here, but you know more about the alcohol here than me?” You teased, your feeling more comfortable with the liquid courage running through you.

He gave a small smile, “I just enjoy reading.”

“Well, mister bookworm, congratulations on becoming an avenger. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” You held your hand out for a handshake.

“Ah yes of course, I am Loki Laufeyson, son of Odin and Freya.” He grabbed your fingers, twisting your hand so he may kiss your knuckles. His hand and lips were cold, and you feel a burn in your cheeks. Was he making you blush?

“Y/N L/N,” You said breathlessly.

“Y/N. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” Your face felt on fire as you couldn’t suppress a small giggle. He smiled once more, rubbing his thumb over you fingers before letting it rest on your thigh.

“So what were you guys talking about?” You scooch into your seat a little more, the action bringing you closer to the man on your right. Which did not go unnoticed by Loki.

He couldn’t focus on anything but you, the conversation going on without him. Not that he minded. It was unbelievable that you’re were acting this way to him. Had you truly seen through his past transgressions?

**********

The rest of the night you spent talking to the group and sneaking glimpses of Loki. He has been awfully quiet, seeming to prefer listening over talking.

“Hey, are you not enjoying the party?” You half whispered over to him. Unable to fully be quiet.

“I am enjoying your company, and that is enough.”

“You said you like books right?” You reach past him to set your now empty glass on the table behind him, making you face to face, noses almost touching.

“I believe I have said that,” he nodded and licked his lips.

“Meet me at the elevator in 5 minutes?” You sat back, hand on his thigh ready to stand up.

“Of course, but the party?”

“It’s not like anybody will notice I’m gone, and I’ve got something to show you.” You stood up and made your way to the bar once more to make yourself a drink to take with you. Using a tall glass this time.

**********

You had your drink and you were walking to the elevator trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible. Probably failing at that since you were a little past tipsy but not quite drunk. It’s a wonder how you are still walking in heels.

Mission completed, you were at the elevator and nobody stopped you and nobody too close noticed you were leaving. With the guest of honor too.

“How punctual,” you tease once you’re in the elevator, you push the button for floor 84. 9 floors below the two of you.

“I would hate to keep a lady waiting. Now where are we going, might I ask?” You look at him and realize just how handsome he is, his black suit fitting him well, really well, and he is also a little bit taller than you with your heels.

“It’s a surprise, you’ll just have to wait and see.” You smiled, feeling butterflies in your stomach. You’re actually feeling excited for the first time in a while. While also hoping you made a new friend.

“Ok, close your eyes.” You stand in front of his and put your hand over both eyes. His hands brushed yours before putting his arms down.

“As you wish.” The elevator doors opened with a little ding.

“Ok walk forward and I’ll lead you.” You giggled, you took your hand from his face but you took his hand in yours, he followed your directions around the tables until he was in the middle of the room.

“Open.” You weren’t even trying to hide you smile anymore. You wondered what he thought of the library. “It’s a replica of the library in Amsterdam, ours is just bigger though.”

“It is indeed very impressive.” He looked around for a few seconds and let out a sigh, “why... why are you doing this?” He leans over grabbing the top of the chair next to him, he looked to you, but you’re speechless.

“...What do you mean?” You take a sip of your drink before setting it on the table beside you.

“I should have to earn your trust, you shouldn’t just give it blindly. Why aren’t you like the rest of your team?” He straightened his posture and rubbed his face; covering his mouth waiting for your answer.

“I..uh. I just thought that I could relate, being controlled, having no freewill. I just thought of what I wanted when everyone refused to talk to me, I just wanted someone to talk to. Someone who would be nice.” It makes your chest hurt hearing his voice sound so sad, broken. “And I am like the rest of my team, we know what it’s like to feel like you do right now. We just don’t know how to deal, you know?”

“You mean there was a point when you couldn’t control yourself?” He looked you in the eyes, and they were glazed over, as if they’ll start watering soon.

“Yeah, they didn’t have you go through everyone’s files when you got here?”

He shook his head, and looked away.

“Well maybe you should talk to them about their pasts, but I can tell you that I know exactly how you feel. 3 years ago I escaped from Hydra, I was their weapon along side Bucky. He escaped first, so I was left to pick up the slack on missions, some of which involved killing very important people.” You turn away. “Including good people. They took my free will away, even now if you were to say a string of words I would have no choice but to comply. I even thought I was a lost cause but the team helped me through it. I can’t even see that person as myself anymore, it was so long ago. The invasion was what? 8 years ago? That person isn’t you.”

“Y/N. I had no idea, I apologize for taking your kindness for granted. I’m sorry for upsetting you, it seems I just have a skewed image of how others perceive me.” He takes a few steps towards you, grabbing your arm. “Please don’t think any less of me than you already do.”

You hug him, burying your face in his neck, “I won’t ever think of you as less than. I mean, you are an actual god.” You chuckle trying to ease the tension.

It grows silent in the room, you stay in his embrace but lean back to look at him. His gaze growing darker. You look at his lips and it doesn’t go unnoticed as he leans closer. You can’t help but feel a pull and you begin to close your eyes. As your lips are just a sliver apart, you pull away.

“I’m sorry, it’s against the rules. We can’t.” You try to pull away but his hands are firm around your waist.

“Rules are meant to be broken,” one hand came up to cradle your cheek. “What is the meaning for such a rule if it keeps people apart.”

“The team lost a member for a couple years because of it. Fury made the rule so that we won’t lose any more..” you can’t help but look at his lips but you shake your head. “No I’m not doing this right now... but shouldn’t we at least talk to him about it?”

“No time,” and with that his lips were on yours, devouring you. You moan as he licks your lip asking for entrance, and you oblige. His other hand comes up and he’s holding both sides of your face. You pull his waist closer to you.

You want so badly to continue, but you both were drunk, and you two can get in a lot of trouble with Fury. Actually you don’t remember seeing him drink all that much. Your hands travel up his sides to his shoulders and you try to push him away, but he won’t budge. You stop responding, your lungs feel like they’re gonna burst and you push harder. He finally relented, and you’re left breathing heavily. You were able to push him away as soon as the kiss breaks

You don’t have a chance to say anything before the door opens, revealing Thor, Sif, and the Warrior Three. Loki waves a hand in their direction and it’s as if you two don’t exist.

“They can’t see us but they will hear us if we get too loud. Or I should say if you get too loud.” He whispered in your ear. Which will probably be hard seeing as they all are basically shouting at each other through their conversation.

“Loki we are not doing this, I’m going to talk Fury first thing in the morning when we’re sober, maybe you won’t even want me in the morning. This is probably the alchohol talking,” you try to reason with him and you feel yourself quickly sobering up as this conversation progresses.

You back away from him but each step you take is matched with a step of his own until you bump into the table behind you. The table made a small sound as it skidded less than 6 inches, and your glass spilling over the side.

All five of them look your way and Loki clamps his hand over your mouth. Thor’s eyes darting all over the place.

“Who goes there?”

Loki has you sat upon the table now and he’s still looking around, and you’re too busy staring at him, hoping that he won’t see you, you don’t feel Loki’s other hand slipping down to your clothed heat. Once you did realize you tried pushing his hand away. Squeezing your thighs together.

You feel another pair of hands and you jerk, trying to free your arms. You look back and see another Loki, with the same dark look as the first. He pulls you to lay you down on the table. Keeping your hands firmly in place, while also still covering your mouth. He spread your legs despite your efforts, and stepped between them.

This never happened, you were a super soldier, how is he overpowering you like this? You know Thor has this godlike strength that is almost a match for the Hulk, but does that extend to Loki? Are Jotunns just as strong as Asgardians?

“Do you wish to be caught by my brother, Y/N? What would Fury think? You don’t want to be caught breaking the rules now, do you?” He leaned down to kiss your neck, peppering little pecks everywhere. You shake your head.

“Good girl.” The Loki holding your arms said, he uncovered you mouth and released your hands before he pulled his hard cock out of his pants. “Open up my sweets.” You reluctantly opened your mouth to have his slide his cock between your lips. You close your eyes, focusing on breathing through your nose as he keeps going deeper with each thrust. He’s holding your hands down again.

Loki’s hand is under your dress, rubbing you through your underwear. A small moan escaped you, muffled by his dick, and you can tell he felt it by the way his breath hitches. He is rubbing small tight circles in such the perfect rhythm, you begin to feel yourself slowing tensing up and he stops. You almost growl as he denied you even the climb, not letting anything build.

He brought his fingers to his lips, wetting them with his spit before he begins to lower himself to your sex, pulling down your panties as well.

You’re not disgusted with his behavior, though you should be. You were more ashamed of yourself, for letting this happen, for leading him on, for every action you made tonight that led to this, even for the fact that you are breaking the number 1 rule that was instilled by Bruce and Nat. But most of all because you are enjoying this. A cock in your mouth and a face between your thighs.

It is getting easier, but he is fucking your face with no mind to if you can handle it. Thrusting slow enough that the table won’t rock, but fast enough that your choking every second. He pushes all the way in holding you there for a couple seconds before he pulls out to let you breath. The action causing your eyes to water up until the tears begin to fall, ruining your mascara.

The first Loki kisses up your thighs slowly, so slow that it is torture and you feel a small heartbeat in your pussy with each kiss that’s climbing higher and higher. You’re holding in every noise that you can, for fear that you will be discovered. You’re only about 10 feet away from Thor for god’s sake. But you thank god that he has gone back to talking with his friends instead of investigating in your spilt drink.

You feel his cool breath breath over your cunt and you’re writhing beneath him, absolutely soaked. He places an open mouthed kiss on your clit, swirling his tongue over it in such a delicious way. Sucking and licking in all the right places, he lets go of your left thigh to insert a single finger into your heat, curling it just enough to hit that spot no one else can seem to find. The difference in temperature making everything just a little more unbearable.

Your legs are over his shoulders and you use them to pull him closer. He receives the message and uses more pressure on your clit, sucking it into his mouth harshly, causing you to arch your back and bucking your hips.

You moan, and it is loud, even through the other Loki’s cock in your throat. You feel the clones hand tightening around your wrists, he thrust deeper causing you to gag silently. You freeze and he doubles his efforts, as if he’s trying to get you two caught. He lets go of your hands and you grab the edge of the table. Needing some sort of stability. The second Loki’s hands going around your throat. Feeling his dick enter your throat, making it bulge with each thrust.

Their speech slowed for a few moments as if they’ll hear it again if they quiet down. Your grip on the edge of the table making it groan, so they are now completely silent listening for anything else. Looking in your general direction.

Loki inserts another finger and he is rubbing that spot with such expertise that it has you seeing stars. He’s sucking on your clit, and you don’t even see the edge before your tumbling over. You can’t control your moan this time, your grip on the table edge tightening so much that you hear cracking until two pieces come off. You’re too blissed out to care about the other people in the room.

“Reveal yourself!” Thor bellows, now angry at the fact someone is toying with him. He is storming towards the table; you drop the splintered wood on the ground, Loki’s clone is gone and you are now able to breath. He picks you up princess style and is swiftly taking you out of the room before Thor reaches the table you have just defiled. Phasing through the door so that you won’t be followed.

Your vision had already returned and there was a slight ringing in your ears when he sets you down to stand. Outside your room it would seem, as you’re now able to take in your surroundings. You can’t get a word in before he is pushing you against the wall, grinding into you, ravishing your neck and chest. You are a mess and your muscles feel like jello.

“Wait... wait! Loki stop!” You were getting your bearings again. Knowing well enough how much trouble you are getting into right now. You normally wouldn’t be a stickler for rules but Fury scares the shit out of you, and you’re kind of angry that Loki didn’t listen to you in the first place.

“Darling, I know how much you want me,” he grabbed your pussy roughly. He lets out a low groan that goes straight to your pussy, the need evident. “Gods, you are soaking. I doubt you want me stopping now, especially when just seconds ago you were mewling and writhing in pleasure.” Each word he’s saying is making you more wet by the second, and it’s because you know he’s right.

He’s now grabbing both of your legs and supporting you on the wall. You can clearly feel the bulge in his pants twitch. He is still leaving you breathless.

“Beg for me, beg for my cock in that sweet little cunt.” You can feel the pressure rising once more as the fabric feels so good against your bare pussy.

“Please, Loki, I need you.” He raises an eyebrow at you, “I need— I need your cock in my pussy. P-please” you let out a groan as you are so close to cumming again.

“That’s my good girl,” he kisses you as he barges into your room. Locking the door behind him. He sits in the bed with you in his lap and his arms snake up to the collar in the back, ripping it off of you, not paying any mind to the zipper he just broke. Your left in nothing but your bra and he rips that off of you as well. You would be mad, but you simply can’t think.

You begin pushing his blazer over his shoulders, but with a snap he is fully nude, and painfully hard and prodding your ass. You would get down to your knees, but he flips you when you tried shifting your weight. He has you pinned beneath him and he is rubbing your entrance with his cock.

“We’re you a good girl? Do you deserve my cock?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m a good girl, please. I need your cock” you’re writhing in pleasure and all you can think of is him. He has completely taken you over.

“Good girl.” He thrusts into to the hilt, giving you no time to adjust as he’s already started a steady speed. The pain adding to the pleasure, making your eyes water. You’re sure you looked wrecked.

He fondled your breasts, bringing his mouth down to your nipple as he tweaks the other. You take your nails down his back and he arches, grabbing your wrists and pinning them down with one hand, the other going to your throat again, giving a light squeeze before going to run your clit. The stimulation has you cumming in seconds, tightening around his dick. To which he growls, thrusting harder and overstimulating you. “Oh gods you are tight, such a responsive little thing.”

The feeling has your toes curling, he’s rutting into you much faster now, and he’s still rubbing small circles into your little bundle of nerves and it has you crying out once more as you cum again. You’re sure you’re screaming now, and you’re glad for the soundproofing Tony put in.

He situated the two of you so that you were on top, and you’re trying to ride him, needing him to just move, when you feel something cold on your asshole.

“No, Loki, I can’t.” You exhaled in a breathy moan as he inserts one finger slowly. Another clone has appeared since the one in front of you is tweaking your nipples and sucking hickeys onto your chest.

“Yes you can darling.” He over the blissed our look on your face. “Ah, beautiful.”

One finger becomes two, scissoring inside you, stretching you out. It feels so good, but you need more. Your clawing your fingers down his back once more and you receive a spank in return as the Loki you’re holding arches his back.

“Are you going to be a good girl and cum for me once more? Do you want my seed? You want me to fill you up?” He inserted a third finger and is thrusting them into you faster, one hand going to rub your clit.

“Please... plea-“ you can’t get out a full sentence, just blubbering nonsense.

“What was that?” He smirked, slowing down and grabbing a handful of your hair to pull your head back a little bit.

His actions pulled a sob from you, “plea... please, cum in me.. fill me up please, I’ll be a good girl, please.”

“Such a good little slut, begging for her holes to be filled.” He removed his fingers and slapped your ass then spreading your cheeks apart, making you moan for him. He pushes his cock in inch by inch, and it is torture. You feel so deliciously full, he let you adjust this time before both slowly beginning to thrust in and out of you. Never leaving you empty, they build a rhythm.

You feel the tension inside you you getting tighter as they rut into you. You can’t hold back any moans, not even as the second Loki brings his hand around to choke you, pulling you back till your head is resting on his shoulder. Your breasts jiggling with each thrust. He’s placing open mouthed kisses over your shoulder and neck before turning your head and kissing your lips successfully silencing you. The steady slap of skin now being the only sound in the room.

His tongue expertly invading your mouth, your tongue not even put up a fight for domination. He bites your lip tugging on it before resuming the kiss. Your hands clawing at his forearms.

They start going faster, and you can’t take it anymore when you cum again. They both slow down giving you a chance to collect yourself.

“Do not cum again until I say so.” He reaches one arm around you to rub your clit again. By then you are so sensitive are so close to cumming, but you hold back. “I expect us to cum together.” The one in front of you says.

You moan loudly, “please... I can’t. I can’t hold it.”

“Yes you can love,” he pulled your hair again, “and you will.”

You feel a mouth at your nipple again, tongue swirling around the peak before a small graze of the teeth. Fingers expertly tweaking the other nipple. Then he switches sides after the process.

The second Loki slaps your ass once.. twice.. three times, before holding your hips to keep the rhythm steady. The pleasure becoming too much and you think you’re about to explode. You’re holding onto him as if he’s your lifeline. Your hands traveling up his arms, around his neck and into his hair. You give it a small tug and it is met with a growl. His hips are stuttering though, so you hold out just a little bit longer. Their grunts and moans sound like heaven. His grip on your hips are for sure going to make bruises.

“Cum for me darling, now.” He practically growled, but you could barely hear it, already falling over the edge once more. He bites your neck as the other sucks on your sweet spot just above your collarbone, the pain mingling with the pleasure, cumming so hard that your vision goes black in the corners, your eyes filling back so hard it’s about to give you a headache. Feeling his warmth spill into your ass and pussy, creating aftershocks that have you twitching.

You collapse onto the first Loki and you know that you will feel everything tomorrow. Loki slowly pulls himself out of your ass, causing you to whimper. He stands up and goes to your bathroom, coming back with a warm wet wash cloth to clean you up with.

He winces as he wipes between your legs, which has you writhing. He also had a makeup wipe, washing away the mascara from your cheeks and the remnants of your makeup from earlier. He kissed your nose when your face is clean. The clone disposed of the wipe and rag and evaporated into the air.

“I apologize my sweets, I should have been gentler with our first time.” He gathers you up in his arms bringing you to lay down properly in the bed, under the covers.

Loki climbs in with you cuddling you close to his chest. You are still on top of him. Your eyes are weak, you are exhausted. His heartbeat lulling you to sleep. You realize his cock is still in you, you lift your hips but he shoves you back down harshly. Sending a jolt through you as you moan again.

“I want to be in you,” he pushed your ass down, causing him to go deeper and drawing a whimper from you. “All night.”

You nodded, nuzzling your face into his neck. Leaving one small peck before letting your eyes drift close. His hands rubbing up and down your back in a soothing gesture before coming to rest at your ass.

“We are so fucked.” You managed. He chuckled.

“Don’t you worry about Fury, my love. All is taken care of.” He kisses your forehead.

You snuggled further into him, getting comfortable, before you’re out like a light.

“You’re mine, and I’m not letting you go. Fury won’t take away what is mine.” Kissing your forehead reassuringly.

#avengers #marvel #avengers fic #powered!reader #marvel fic #loki x reader #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #dark!loki #dark!loki x reader #smut #loki smut #loki fanfic #loki fic

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nat-20s · 4 years ago

Note

PROMPT! the first time the s1 archive gang hangs out outside of work (any variation of the group, doesn’t have to be All of them)

This is only the Archive Assistant sqaud, bc I’m sorry Jon, but no bosses allowed. Also it’s VERY silly and soft bc sometimes u just wanna write nice things u know

(also also fuck I lovecompletely missed that this said “first time” they hang out but uhh. I hope u like it anyway.)

Tim Stoker like to think that, sometimes, not to toot his own horn, but he can be something of a genius. When a cousin’s cousin had offered to let him use their cozy little cabin for a night or two in exchange for help with moving, he had been struck with what could only be humbly described as “inspiration of the most divine nature”. For, as nice as a Friday evening away from it all by himself sounds, it’s so much nicer for a Friday evening away from it all to serve as Archival Assistants Bonding Time™. Or well, more like Tim and Sasha, Who Are Already Best Friends Forever, Figure Out What Martin’s Deal Is, Because For A Guy So Chatty, He Sure Is Mysterious Time™, but that’s not nearly as catchy. Truly, his plan was brilliant, bringing two compatriots and an excessive amount of food and drink to a spot away from the prying eyes of the world and bosses, and feast in the openness and silliness that comes from having a great fucking time.

His plan, and his genius, were tragically derailed. While he knew on their drive up that the air was rapidly getting cooler, Tim couldn’t have even pretended to predict that an hour into their stay would bring a freak blizzard that means they’re snowed in for the next three days, which was 3 times longer than he had accounted on spending with his coworkers/friends. There was more than enough food to last them, and almost enough alcohol, but as Sasha so kindly put it:

“First you make us reenact the first scene of every bad teen slasher movie, now there’s a fucking white out. If we lose power, I’m telling you, there is absolutely going to be a murder.”

“Pfft, no way. The guy who owns this place is one of those weird ass prepper types, there’s a back up generator for the back up generator. And even if we did lose power, we’re all much more the “huddle for warmth under a shared blanket in front of the roaring fire” types than the “get panicked and stab someone in darkness” types, right? Back me up here, Marto.”

Martin, who at three shots in is both hilarious and mean, directs his response to Sasha. “in the event of a black-out I vote we kill Tim. I can take him down and you can finish the job.”

Sasha tips her cup at him, saying, “I like the way you think,” at the same time that Tim yells out, “Hey! Why am I the one dying?!”

Sasha tells him, “Duh. This whole thing was your idea, which makes you the Dr. Black* of this situation. Any good mansion murder mystery dictates the the host dies first. Then, in a moment of entirely unplanned synchronization, her and Martin start chanting, “Host dies first! Host dies first!”

“Okay, you know what? Fuck both of y’all, it’s not my fault that you’re both thoroughbred city slickers that can’t handle being in a cabin with plumbing and running water and electricity. Didn’t either of you go camping as kids?”

Sasha replies “No I’m far too pretty for that,” while Martin bursts out laughing. It takes about 20 seconds for him to settle down. Wiping away a tear, he elaborates, “Sorry, sorry, just. Can not imagine my mother on a camping trip. I mean, sure, she probably hoped at one point or another that I’d be lost in the woods as a child, or maybe even now, but I think that’s a bit different.”

Tim leans over the kitchen counter, placing his chin in his hands as he says, “Oh shit, Martin lore. Spill the deets.”

Sasha, who’s loyalties tend to sway towards whatever’s most interesting in the moment, piles on with, “You called her your mother, not your mum. That’s means she’s pretty much a right bastard, or a member of the aristocracy, which is just another term for right bastard but you got to grow up as a rich kid. Am I right?”

It’s clear the the two of them have made a grave mistake. All joviality flees Martin’s expression, and he shrinks down both his physical presence and his voice to something that could easily be overlooked if someone wasn’t paying attention. “Oh, um, well, I definitely didn’t grow up as a rich kid. And, it terms of the ‘right bastard’ thing, she’s not- er. That’s to say, she’s- she’s sick and. She’s doing the best she can, given, given everything.”

Martin pointedly looks at his hands while Tim and Sasha panickedly look at each other. They go to either side of him, and when he doesn’t flinch away, they each place a comforting hand on his shoulder. Tim immediately feels the itch to fill the heavy quiet, and he happens to know he has quite the talent for blazing on ahead after these kinds of moments. It’s how he’s survived basically party for the past decade. “Ooookay, I’m gonna go ahead and say that all depressing familial reveals shall be held off until at least the second night of being trapped. While Sasha may have irritatingly few skeletons in her closet in that regard-”

“I have Tory grandparents?”

“We all have Tory grandparents Sash, that’s absolutely nothing. As I was saying, while Sash’s family is boring and semi functional, you and me are gonna do some fuckin’ commiserating on our journey from work friends to friend friends. However, I’m going to have to be 40% drunker, go through a decently strong hangover, and then once again get hair of the dog drunk before I can even start to consider heading down that path. And in that spirit, I think it’s time to start up the drinking games. Truth or dare might end up a bit too heavy for our needs, but Never Have I Ever should suit us just fine. I know I’m gonna regret saying this considering Sasha is 100% going to target my ass, but I think we should establish that whoever puts all ten fingers down first has to chug the rest of the box wine.”

Sasha pipes up with, “Ugh, no, not drinking games, that’s such twenty-something bullshit. I expected better from you.”

“Hey, Martin is a twenty-something, so that still works fine actually-”

“Tim!”

“What?”

Martin’s directing wide, bordering on frantic, eyes at him, and Tim is almost certainly missing something, though he can’t for the life of him figure it out. Sasha’s head is bobbing slightly between the two of them, and shes apparently able to parse what Tim has not. “Oh! Martin, uh, I already know that you’re 2, and it’s cool.”

“Did..did Tim tell you or?”

Tim scoffs out an “I wouldn’t!” even though there’s a distinct possibility that, entirely on accident, he would, and Sasha makes a reassuring coo. “No, no, babe, nothing like that. It’s just that, uh, the Magnus Institute is kind of notorious for not doing any background checks pretty much ever, so when I get a new coworker, I..do it myself.”

Martin’s face blanches, and his eyes somehow get even wider. “Oh god, please don’t tell Jon or Elias, I know I don’t have the credentials, but I really need-”

“Woah, woah, I’m not gonna do that. First of all, archival assistant squad, we ride together we die together in a snowed in god forsaken log cabin, secondly, it’d be hypocritical as fuck if I got up your ass about qualifications. Not a single one of us is qualified for our jobs, not even Jon. Maybe especially not Jon. It’s like, raise your hand if you have a degree in library sciences. No one? Okay, cool, that’s not weird at all for an archive. Actually, maybe bring that up next time he gives you shit. He’ll be all like ‘bluh bluh, you didn’t document this spooky bullshit well enough, it’s not up to the High Standards here at Spooky Bullshit Emporium’ and you can be like ‘whatever buddy, you’re an English major, what do you fuckin’ know?’. It’ll be devastating. He’ll be devastated.”

Martin laughs in the manner of someone who knows that they shouldn’t be, and his shoulders relax into a lower position. “Why would you want me to devastate him? I thought you guys were friends?”

“We are, which is why we all collectively need to get back at Jon for acting like such a prick. He’s always been a bit temperamental, but I honestly don’t get what his deal is, especially with you. I mean, c’mon, you’re great, being mean to you is like kicking a puppy.”

“Thanks? I think?”

Tim pipes up with, “Oooo, since drinking games are apparently too childish for Sasha, what if instead we play ‘What’s Jon’s Deal Anyway, Featuring, Seriously, Why Target Martin, The Baby of The Archives’-”

“-That feels a bit reductive of who I am and I also I think I’m technically older than Jon?-”

“-Whoever comes up with the best explanation, and by best obviously I mean most entertaining, gets an all expense paid trip from the other two to one of the charity shops I know we all frequent.”

Sasha snorts, “Wow, a whole twenty quid, who could resist such temptation. But also, I’m in, I think I have a winner and I have a violent need to out-cardigan Jon.”

Martin’s relaxation is gone again, which Tim thinks need to be fixed through aggressively passing a glass of wine towards him. He takes it without protest, takes a long drink, and says, “This seems more like 3 am conversation than a 9 pm one.”

Sasha gives an encouraging nudge, prompting another drink, and replies, “Yeah, well, I am not gonna make it to 3 am. I’ve got about an hour until the Alcohol Sleepiness sets in, and I know Tim will be right behind me.”

“Sashaaaaaa, you’re ruining my reputation as a young-at-heart, party-all-night kind of guy.”

“Babe, you’ve complained about your bones aching often enough that you’ve never had that reputation.”

“Surrounded by mean drunks, that’s what I am. I should be pitied.”

Martin shoots a glance towards Sasha, then replies, “You’d be more pitiable if this entire thing wasn’t, you know, entirely your own fault.”

Sasha nods sagely, “It’s true. If you were pitiable then maybe you wouldn’t have to die first.”

“You know what? I am uncomfortable with the energy that’s been created in this room, how about we divert some of that towards complaining about our bosses, as coworkers who are hanging out and having a good time and not bullying me are supposed to do.”

Sasha giggles slightly as she leans down and presses a kiss to Tim’s cheek. “Aw, sorry, Tim. I promise to double cross Martin when if becomes killing time.”

Tim melts a little, even as he’s replying, “Wait, when?” Martin takes another sip and says, “Whatever. I could take you both.”

How the hell are you supposed to resist a set up like that? With an over the top wink and cheesy grin, Tim says, “I bet you could, big guy.”

He’s expecting a slightly flustered reaction, maybe a higher pitched voice and a blush, if he’s lucky. He gets all of those things, but it’s Sasha saying, “Oh my god.” Martin only gives him a raised eyebrow and level stare, and Tim makes a mental note to reevaluate his dedication to only considering Martin in a strictly platonic fashion. Sasha continues talking, cutting through the..tension? with, “Okay, now I am uncomfortable with the energy that’s been created in this room. Tim, tell the studio audience what you think is up with Jon.”

Tim blinks, hard, gives a shake of his head, and says, “Oh, obviously the Jon we know is dead. His ‘promotion’ to Head Archivist was actually Elias killing him off and replacing him with a robot that has the command If: see Martin Then: be dick. Don’t worry Marto, now that Sasha is aware of the issue, she’ll surely be able to reprogram him.”

Sasha hums a bit, then says, “I buy it. I think my explanation’s better, but Elias does seem the “kill a dude and replace him” type. Like if I was gonna suspect any particular person of murder he’s in the top five.”

“Seriously? Elias? Somehow has middle manager vibes even though he’s the head honcho Elias? Mr. ‘I probably wore boat shoes and khaki shorts for the entirety of university’ Bouchard? Voted most likely to put a thin layer of mayo in between two pieces of white bread and claim it’s a sandwich Elias? The area man that’s almost certainly gone on record as saying that golf and networking are his favorite hobbies Elias? He’s far too boring to have committed a murder.”

Tim’s looking at Martin with shock and delight, and he knows Sasha is wearing the exact same expression. “More of this. Please describe more of the things that Elias is.”

“I mean, sure? Uhh, guy that would pay $80 for a dime bag because you told him it’s a premium strain. Person that ironically says things like “kids these days” and “the youths” and you know he’s talking about people well into their 30s. Genuinely believes that if you can afford a cell phone then you shouldn’t be complaining about being poor, because apparently a one time purchase of around a hundred bucks is the same as trying to pay monthly rent. Tells people to haul themselves up by their bootstraps. Thinks he got to where he was ‘without anybody’s handouts’ even though he’s had a trust fund since he was 15. Writes weekly editorials to the local newspaper complaining about the liberalization of media, and they’re like ‘sir, please stop submitting to us, we’re just trying to talk about Lisa’s gardening club’ because they can’t professionally tell him to fuck off. Thinks salt and pepper are the only spices one could ever possibly need, everything else is simply excessive. Somehow gay and homophobic. Like, yes, he’s taken a male lover, but he’s also seconds away from calling you a slur at any one time. Actually, no, that’s too interesting, and I refuse to believe he’s had a lover. Legally, he cannot have a lover, I’ve decided, so just gay and homophobic, both in theory alone. Has said that Boris Johnson is “a bit much, but really not so bad, and much better than any of the alternatives, really.” All of the cousins in his family banded together and officially got him banned from any sort of major holiday dinners. Basically every shitty boss you’ve ever had, especially if you’ve worked retail, rolled into one.”

Tim lets out a low whistle. “Damn, all right. Get fucked Elias.”

Sasha emphatically agrees, “Get fucked Elias.”

They all clink their glasses together, and then there’s a beat of silence before Martin says, “I’m pretty sure robots can’t get eye bags.”

Tim and Sasha let out a “huh” and “hmm?” respectively, so Martin elaborates. “You posited that Jon had been replaced with a robot. Pretty sure robots aren’t able to look that tired.”

Tim snaps. “Drat, you’ve pointed out the one flaw in my impeccable logic. So what d’you think is up with him? I know you don’t have the Before The Archives comparison, but I think you could provide a fresh perspective.”

“Oh, fuck, I don’t know. Two months ago, I might have had some choice words, but first off, you all genuinely got on, so it didn’t really make sense for him to be awful all the time, and secondly ever since the, um, worm thing, he’s actually been pretty nice? I haven’t heard any snide comments, and whenever I mess something up he’s a lot more, um, gentle about explaining what wrong. He actually complimented my work the other day so. I guess I think Jon’s deal was that he was stressed out and I was very nervous and not very good at my job and he picked up on that?”

“So you think he’s like a horse.”

“Explain.”

“He sensed your fear and he became skittish and irritable in kind.”

“Horses can sense fear?”

“Horses can sense everything.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“Right?”

“Guys, we’ve gone on like four different tangents in one conversation. Martin, I’m very glad to hear that Jon’s changed his behavior towards, because it means I don’t have to yell at him on your behalf, you’re getting to see the person that me and Tim both know who is actually pretty cool, and also mostly because it feeds perfectly into my winning theory.”

“What, you’ve got something better than Martin’s ‘accurate but boring’ reasoning or my ‘super cool but now that I think about it for .5 seconds actually kind of a bummer robot’ knowledge?”

Sasha’s incredibly self-assured when she says, “I sure fuckin’ do. Jon’s secretly been in love with Martin the whole time, and he’s been previously overcompensating by acting like he hates him.” which makes Tim choke on air and Martin emphatically reply, “Fuck off, he is not.”

“No, no, hear me out, I have, I have receipts, as the kids say. First point of evidence: Martin’s stupid hot, and there’s no way that Jon is straight, so obviously he’s not gonna be impervious to that.”

“What?”

“Oh come off it Martin, it’s just a fact. Like, me personally? I don’t even do the whole romance thing, but the first time I ever saw you I blacked out slightly and thought ‘Now there’s a man I could raise some ferrets with.’.”

“I, um, I, well. Is that...supposed to be a euphemism for something?”

“What? No, I’ve just always wanted ferrets, and asking someone to raise pets with you is like the height of romance, I’m pretty sure. Back me up here Tim.”

“On the ferret thing or the Martin hot thing?”

“Either? Both.”

“Aight. Yes, asking someone to raise ferrets with you is basically a marriage proposal if that someone is Sasha, and I hate to break it to you Martin, but you’re incredibly good-looking. We’re all incredibly good-looking, to the point where I think the only qualification for the archives staff is being a straight up hottie. OH! We should name the group chat “straight up hottie squad”. Anyway, yep, point for Sasha.”

“Not a point for Sasha, even if I believe you about about my, em, physical attractiveness,-”

“-Don’t have to put belief in a fact, Marto-”

“-that doesn’t mean anything. By that logic, he’s equally as likely to be in love with either of you, and my money would be on Sasha if it was anyone, because you’re clearly his favorite.”

“Ah, but that’s exactly why it isn’t me, but thank you for the transition into my second point which is: Jon is the kind of person that sees anything that might make him vulnerable and starts aggressively defending himself against it, and what’s more vulnerable than a crush? He’s not crushing on Tim, because Tim’s fucking great, but sometimes he’s also the walking, talking embodiment of sensory overload, and while I myself I love that, Jon clearly gets a bit overwhelmed by it at times. He’s not into me, because he knows better than that, and overall I’m pretty non-threatening to his whole thing, so of course he’s going to be the most relaxed around me. You, on the other hand, are single, hot, kind to animals and people alike, and make a great cup of tea. Incredibly crush worthy, thus incredibly threatening, thus Jon acting like That.”

“Hmm, this still seems like something that comes from watching one too many corny rom coms, and that’ s coming from someone who loves corny rom coms.”

“I also love corny rom coms, but that’s completely beside the point. Because, okay, sure, if Jon had just been a weird asshole to you, I wouldn’t be like ‘oh, yeah, that’s a classic case of covering for something’ but you’re right about him being nicer since the worm thing. So nice, in fact, I shall be bringing in Timothy as my star witness that’s going to blow this whole case wide open. Martin, you may not have heard how Jon has started to talk about you, but me and Tim sure have.”

“God, yeah. Like if we thought he wouldn’t shut up about you before-

“-which he wouldn’t-”

“it’s gotten way worse now.”

“I think the whole life threatening worm woman flipped a switch for him and now he’s all fuckin. ‘Oh, Martin should stay in the archives, let me give him the place that I sleep.”

“Oh, Martin, I don’t think he should go out on too many research trips anymore, I’d much prefer for him to be ~nice and close~”

“Oh, Martin, good lord, did you know that his tea is quite good? I’m think it might actually be the best I’ve ever had.”

“Oh, Martin, his work’s rather improved, don’t you think? It’s really quite impressive, especially considering all the stress he’s had to endure.”

“Oh, Martin, I just want him to take me into his big, strong arms and whisk me away from all of this.”

“He did not fucking say that last one.”

Sasha throws her arms up in the air. “He may as well have!”

Nodding sagely, Tim replies, “This whole thing holds water. I vote Sasha gets the shopping trip. Martin?”

Martin stares at his drink as if it has any ability to give him any sort of answers, then lets out a sigh with his entire body. “You know what? It’s probably nicer than whatever the fuck is the truth, so sure, why not? Let’s get Sasha her cardigans.”

Sasha lets out a whoop. “Hell yeah! Can’t wait for spree, assuming all three of us get out of this cabin alive.”

“Okay, nope, clearly Sasha needs another distraction. Got any suggestions, Martin?”

“Uh, wasn’t a karaoke machine part of the sales pitch for this place?”

“Martey babey, yes! I wouldn’t have thought you’d spring for that sort of thing!”

“If this were a public bar or something where I’d have to listen to drunk strangers and they’d have to listen to me, then no, I’d rather have my brain pulled through my nose a la mummification. But with only you guys and fourish drinks in? I’m down to clown.”

“Sash, you with us?”

“Dunno, what songs are there?”

Tim shrugs, and heads to the storage closet that contains all the various entertainment equipment. It takes a bit of searching, and a bit more digging, but he’s able to unearth the ancient portable karaoke machine. He also grabs some of the jigsaws, mostly on the thought that sometimes a bitch just wants to hang out with their friends and do a puzzle. Also because in light of the fact that they’re stuck inside with no sort of access to the outside world for two days longer than planned, there’s pretty much no way that they’re not going to reach a point where they all say fuck it let’s do a puzzle.

Plugging in the machine, it takes a solid several minutes to boot up, which is the perfect length of time to take it upon himself to take one for the team and chug the box wine himself, with Sasha and Martin chanting in the background. When he finishes, they cheer, and then Martin immediately shoves a glass of water for him to down as well, muttering something about how he wants him to be alive in the morning. Tim can tell he’s well inebriated by now, because the simple thoughtful gesture is enough to make him a little bit misty-eyed, and Sasha can attest to alcohol turning him into the world’s biggest sap. In order to avoid prevent himself from becoming the kind of person who says “I love you” in a gradually more sloppy repeat, he starts flipping through the discography of the now running machine. “Alright y’all, it looks like we got 80s songs or...80s songs. Ooo, they have the Grease 2 soundtrack.”

That gets him a well deserved “No!” from both parties, with Sasha adding on, “Not even if it was Grease 1. I’m putting an embargo on musical theater in general.”

“Oh come on, some musicals are better than other. Right, Marto?”

“I’m with Sasha on this one.”

“Boo. But fine, what do you want?”

Martin and Sasha glance at each other, and Tim’s amazed at how well the bonding night-turned-long-weekend has gone so far, considering they seem to have already mastered the art of silent communication. Martin speaks first, with, “They got Dolly Parton?”

The process of scrolling through individual letters to type is achingly slow, but luckily all he needs to get through is “DO” before she shows up. “They do.”

Sasha says, “Do they got 9 to 5, by Dolly Parton?”

Tim’s eyes light up with realization as he says, “They do,” and in a moment of spontaneous understanding, all three of them know that they’re not simply going to sing 9 to 5. No, they’re going to do a full blown music video for the benefit for nobody but themselves, because why the fuck not.

The next hour is spent in a very silly fashion. They figure out how to use the cabin’s layout to their advantage, assign various parts of the song to each person, and practice their inexpert choreography a few times with the song tinnily blasting from Sasha’s phone. The final result is hardly of professional quality, but it is of making them all giggle quality. It starts off in a relay like manner, each of them in a different area to coordinate with “Tumble of out bed and stumble to the kitchen” (Sasha on the couch), “Pour myself a cup of ambition”, (Tim at the coffemaker), and “Yawn and stretch and try to come to life” (Martin at the fridge), with them finally crowding around the karaoke machine together to scream sing the chorus. Despite their practice, they quickly go off key, and while they might end up with low points for accuracy, they get full marks on enthusiasm.

When the song ends, it takes them a few minutes to settle down into something less giddy. As they do, Sasha, out of breath, says, “Fuck me, I’m sleepy now. What the hell?”

Tim hums in affirmation. “Goddammit, I’m tired too. Let me guess, Martin, you’re young enough that you could go all night?”

“No? I’ve never pulled an all-nighter in my life. Actually, I know that it was supposed to be in case the power went out, but huddling together under a blanket in front of a fire sounds really nice? I mean, um, if you guys were down.”

Sasha leans her head against Martin’s shoulder and takes on the expression of a deeply content cat. “Mmm, I call Martin, he’s warm.”

“Absolutely not, I also want to leech Martin’s warmth. You good with being in the middle?”

Martin’s practically beaming, but his voice manages to almost fake being put upon. “I suppose it’s a sacrifice I could make.”

With Sasha already half asleep, Martin brings her over to the couch, while Tim gets them all set up. He manages to find the kind of big, fluffy blanket that all cabins should contain and wraps it around their shoulders. Luckily for them, the fireplace is gas lit and can be put on a timer. He sets it for 30 minutes, even though all three of them are going to be long passed out before them. Sasha is already softly snoring away, and Martin’s head keeps drifting down and snapping back up. Tim curls up against Martin’s other side, and even though all three of them are going to wake up with aching backs and worse heads, he thinks he really just might be a genius after all.

*Why is Mr. Boddy’s name Dr. Black in the UK. I hate that. Why would you not have the dumb joke of naming the victim “boddy”. Hey brits explain your crimes.

#anon #replies #nat fic #tma #martin blackwood #tim stoker #sasha james

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